#(AS THE REFERENCE MAYBE FLIES OVER EVERYONES HEADS)

[atomicami]

omg HIII. could you maybe like- write abt like abby and reader at school (in college obvi) and abby pulls reader into a bathroom and like makes sure it’s empty and locks the door, and things get uh.. hot and heavy?🤭

U DONT HAVE TO IF U DONT WANNA BUT THIS IDEA POPPED INTO MY HEAD AND IM A SHIT WRITER AND HAVE SHIT GRAMMER.

btw, ur awesome.

hi anon! i hope you don’t mind, i changed the setting to a college/frat party instead, but i hope you like it though! tysm for the love 🤍

all clear

abby anderson x fem!reader (college au)

- summary: it’s halloweekend, and after a lot of convincing, you reluctantly agree to be dina’s plus one to a costume party that’s being hosted at her boyfriend’s frat house. the night flies by slow for you, until an encounter with a certain classmate changes that.

- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, reader and abby are in college (as stem majors), reader is a little introverted, frat house setting, college partying, some alcohol consumption, bathroom hookup, kinda softdom!abby, oral & fingering (r!receiving), reader is wearing heels, and abby tells you to keep them on, nicknames instead of y/n (mostly angel), and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything else

- author’s note: happy halloween everyone! i’ve been having a bit of writer’s block with my bfm!abby fic lately, so i have to admit the timing for this request was perfect since it gave me the inspiration to write out this fic. i hope you guys like it!

“I still don’t get why you won’t come join me.”

You let out a sigh, taking your eyes off of your laptop and looking over at Dina, who was currently getting ready.

“Because, Dina, I’ve told you a million times that parties are not my thing,” you reply. “Especially if it’s in one of those awful frat houses.”

For the past week now, Dina’s been trying to get you to come to a costume party that’s being hosted at her boyfriend’s fraternity, Sigma Chi. It’s known to be one of the biggest fraternities at your university, and it’s also known for throwing the biggest parties.

The thing is, unlike Dina, you could honestly care less about college parties. What was the point of drinking and partying all night long when you’d just end up passing out and forgetting everything the next morning? You didn’t see the fun in it. If anything, you’d rather be spending a Saturday night curled up in your bed with a movie than getting blackout drunk and waking up hungover on some random person’s couch.

Dina finishes zipping up her skirt before turning around to face you. “But it’s Halloweekend…Don’t you wanna get out of here for a bit, and have some fun?” she asks. “I seriously don’t get how our dorm doesn’t give you any claustrophobia.”

You let out a chuckle and roll your eyes. “I think I’ll be fine, Dee. Besides, I need to study for my chemistry midterm next week.”

Dina lets out a groan in response. “You’re seriously going to spend this night locked up in our dorm studying?” You watch as she walks over to your bed with her black over-the-knee boots in hand and sits down next to you to put them on. “I truly love you babe, but you have got to let loose a little.”

You look over to your side as Dina goes on while she zips up her boots. “Besides…” she continues, zipping up her second boot. “There’s a possibility that a certain classmate of yours might be there…” she says with a wink as she nudges your shoulder with hers.

The ‘certain classmate’ that Dina was referring to was Abigail Anderson. She was also a STEM major just like you, but particularly majoring more towards the engineering field instead. You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t find her attractive, but you never found the desire to go for her simply because you felt like she was out of your league. You figured that she only saw you as nothing more than a classmate who would always sit in the back row during every lecture.

You shake your head and roll your eyes at Dina. “Just because Abby and I have the same chemistry class doesn’t mean we have actual chemistry, you know.”

“Okay, but she’ll probably still be there…maybe this party could be an opportunity for you to create some of that chemistry…” she replies back, nudging your shoulder once again.

Dina was most likely right about that. Abby didn’t seem like much of a party person either, but her best friend Manny sure was. Coincidentally, both Manny and Jesse just happened to be in the same fraternity together, which created a mutual connection between the two of you. And given that both Abby and Manny were on the market right now, chances are that she was going to be at that party too.

But as much as Dina was trying to convince you to go right now, you were trying your best to hold back.

“Well even if I did want to go…I still have a midterm to study for, so I still can’t come,” you said, pointing toward your laptop screen.

Once you turned around, you didn’t see the smirk that was growing on Dina’s face. She was so close to getting you to give in and join this party with her.

You felt the weight of your bed shift as Dina got up and walked around to where she was now standing in front of you. “You can study tomorrow,” she says, closing your laptop shut. “Come on, we’re going to the frat house.”

“But I don’t have a—”

“You can find something in my closet.” she interrupts back, pointing towards her closet. “Now start getting ready, I'm gonna go fix up my hair so we can leave.”

You watch as Dina picks up the set of bunny ears off her bed and walks to the bathroom, the sound of her clicking boots following along with her. After a moment of hesitation, you finally muster up the energy to get off of your bed and walk over to Dina’s closet to pick something out.

Your eyes meet with a crammed closet of clothes once you open the doors of her closet. As a roommate, Dina was one to keep her things organized, but when it came to her clothes, it was like an addiction. Her closet was so packed that if one more hanger were to go inside, you’re convinced that it would probably burst.

Taking a deep breath, you dive into her closet and dig around for her past party costumes, praying you’ll find a good candidate to wear for the party. You’ll have to admit that it's definitely not gonna be an easy task, given that Dina is obsessed with all things tight and revealing when it comes to going out, especially with costumes.

You fish out a few costumes from her closet and bring them over to your bed, spreading them all out to get a good look. At first glimpse of the costumes, you realize that none of these options are a good fit for you, so you try your best to pick the best option through the process of elimination:

Schoolgirl? No…

Nurse? Not really…

Cowgirl? Perhaps…

Mermaid? Absolutely not.

Eventually, you’ve narrowed your choices until there was just one option left: an angel costume.

You pick up the costume off of your bed and take a look at it. The outfit consisted of a white tie front corset top, paired with a white skirt and thigh highs, and topped off with a halo and large feathered wings. Out of all the costumes that Dina had in her collection, you figured that this one would be the most suitable for you.

The bathroom door opens, and you look up to see Dina now fully ready in her Playboy bunny costume. She smiles once she sees the costume in your hands. “That’s a perfect choice, and I even have the shoes to match with it,” she says, pointing at it. You then feel her hands on your hips, motioning you towards the bathroom. “Now go get ready! I don’t wanna miss the party!”

Yeah, this was going to be a long night for you.

🕸 ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩🕸 .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕷️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 🕸 ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩🕸

The two of you arrive at the Sigma Chi frat house, and you can already tell how packed it is just by looking at it. Music was blasting, multicolor lights flashing through the windows, and even a group of guys chugging a keg on the front lawn. The sight of it alone was already making you start to feel sick. You’re starting to wish you were back at your dorm now, studying as you were before Dina dragged you to this party. But it was too late to back out now.

You both approach the front door of the house, and Dina rings the bell. A smile soon appears on her face once she sees Jesse answering the door.

“Hey you!” she exclaims, leaning in to give her boyfriend a hug and kiss before pulling away to adjust his hat. Based on the red velvet robe, anchor chain, and captain’s hat, it's clear that Jesse was dressed up as Hugh Hefner to match up with his girlfriend.

Jesse smiles back at her before looking over to you, his eyes slightly widening in surprise. “Wow, I did not expect you to be here too,” he says to you.

Dina looks back at you before looking back at Jesse. “Believe me, you have no idea how much convincing it took me to get her to come join me,” she says to him.

Jesse simply nods in response, his eyes now on the both of you. “Well in that case, welcome to Sigma Chi,” he says, stepping towards the side to allow you two to come in. “Make yourselves at home, there are drinks and food in the kitchen, and whatever you guys do, please don’t fuck with the thermostat…the electric bills in this house are already fucking expensive as it is. But other than that, knock yourselves out.”

As soon as you enter the house, you realize that it is just as chaotic as you saw it from the outside. The night’s just getting started, and you truly have no idea when it’s gonna end.

Before you know it, 20 minutes have passed by, but to you, it feels more like a decade. You were upstairs, sitting on a couch, watching Dina and Jesse play beer pong with another couple. You’ve drank less than half of the Twisted Tea that’s in your hand, simply because you had thought at the time that it was just a regular iced tea when you picked it out of the cooler. The music and lighting were overbearing, and the corset and heels were practically suffocating your chest and feet by now. You wanted nothing more than to leave the frat house and head back to your dorm to rid yourself of this feeling.

But instead, you stand up from the couch, deciding to opt for a different drink from the kitchen downstairs. Before leaving you walk over to Dina and tap her on the shoulder to let her know. “I’m gonna get another drink,” you tell her loudly, hoping she can hear you over the music. Dina looks down at your drink and nods. “Get something stronger next time! I think Jesse has a bottle of Smirnoff in the liquor cabinet!” she shouts back at you.

You simply sigh and walk out of the room, the hard iced tea still in your hand. You look down and watch the liquid sloshing around in the small hole of the can until you bump yourself into a familiar figure.

“Shit!” you mutter quietly, almost spilling your drink. “I’m so sorry, I—“ your words get cut off as soon as you look up to see who you have just run into. “Abby?”

“Hey there,” she said with a smile, looking back down at you. “I didn’t expect to see you at this party…what brings you here?”

“Oh, I um…” you stammer, looking back into the room you had just walked out of before turning back to her. “Dina wouldn’t stop begging me to come so…I’m here.” You tell her.

Abby nodded in response, finally putting the pieces together. “Makes sense, I definitely figured you wouldn’t be a party person, not that it’s a bad thing though.” she tells you. You can’t help but notice her checking you out, her eyes trailing over the angel costume that was tightly hugging your figure. “This costume looks pretty on you,” she says, running her thumb and pointer finger through the large feathered wings that were on your back.

You try your best not to get flustered over her compliment. “Thank you, um…” you take a moment to look at what she was wearing. She had on her usual clothes, dark wash jeans, and a muscle tank, except she had on a backward snapback hat with the fraternity’s emblem printed on it. “Are you…supposed to be a Sigma Chi member?” you ask.

You hear the blonde let out a chuckle before nodding again. “Yeah, um…costumes are never really my thing, so this is really all I can come up with,” she tells you. “Besides, Manny dragged me into coming to this party anyway, so I figured I’d steal something out of it.”

You smile back at her response before letting out a chuckle as well. “Well, it suits you, Abs…” you let out a sigh before continuing. “If I’m being honest, I’m so glad I ran into you…This night has been flying by so slow for me,” you admit to her, briefly looking down at the ground.

That’s when an idea passed through Abby’s mind. However, she needed to know if you were up for it. “I can help it fly by faster, if you'd like…”

You looked back up at her, and you truly couldn’t hide the smirk that was appearing on your face. “Is that so?” you ask her. “What do you have in mind, exactly?”

She doesn’t respond right away, but instead reaches a hand out to you. “How about you come with me?” she offers, smirking back at you.

You hesitate for a moment before soon giving in, leaving your drink at the nearest surface you can find before grabbing her hand and following her. She walks you down the crowded hall before stopping at a door that was on her left, assuming that it might be a bedroom or bathroom. She opens the door with no hesitation, only to be greeted with an angry couple protesting from inside.

“Shit! Sorry!” she exclaimed, quickly closing the door again. She then turns to you and you can’t help but let out a laugh, leading her to shake her head at her poor decision to do that. “Come on, I think there’s another bathroom downstairs.

With your hand still being held by hers, you walk down the stairs with her until you get back to the first level of the frat house. You then feel her hand letting go only to snake itself around your waist, holding you close to her broad build as you both walk through the partying crowds of people. Abby soon stopped at a door that was on her right, this time knocking twice before slowly turning the doorknob to take a peek inside.

You also try to take a look inside to see if it is empty. “All clear?” you ask her.

She nods in response. “All clear.”

You then feel her hand moving over your wings down to the small of your back, motioning you to go inside first before entering herself, closing the door shut, and locking it.

The last bit of patience you had left was now gone the moment you stepped into the bathroom. Once Abby had turned around after locking the door and switching the light on, you grabbed her by her muscle tank and pulled her toward you in a kiss. As soon as the contact hits her, you can feel her lips smirking against yours in the kiss. One of her large hands rests at your waist while the other runs through your hair, causing the plastic halo on your head to fall and clatter on the ground.

You try your best not to trip on your heels as she slowly walks you backward toward the bathroom counter that was by the sink. Her hands that were on your waist and in your hair soon moved down to the back of your thighs, giving you a boost to lift you and sit you down on the counter.

Abby pulls her lips away from yours to get a good look at you, smiling as she does so. Your lips were plump from kissing her, your hair slightly messy from when she was running her hands through it, and your eyes were blown out with lust and desperation for her. “Look at you, my angel…” she murmurs, running a thumb through your lower lip line. “So beautiful for me.

Her hand trails down to the front of your corset top, fingertips landing on the silk ribbon that held it all together. “Is it okay if I untie this?” she asks, holding her eye contact with you.

You nod.

“Words, angel.”

“Please, Abby…” you whisper out to her. To Abby, that response was more than enough for her to start undressing you. The ribbon from your corset begins to loosen, and you instantly feel a wave of relief wash through you. Once the ribbon was undone, Abby then uses both of her hands to loosen the rest of it, just enough to free your tits out.

A whimper escapes from your mouth once you feel Abby’s hands on your breasts, your nipples instantly hardening from her touch alone. “God…such pretty tits…” she murmurs out to you, leaning in to quickly kiss down from your neck to your tits, her mouth latching onto one of them and gently sucking while her hand is gently squeezing the other.

More whimpers and whines escape from your mouth at the contact, followed by your thighs rubbing and clenching together. Abby was quick to notice that, removing her mouth and hands from your tits as a result. She takes off her snapback and tosses it to the ground next to your halo before getting down on her knees in front of you.

Once Abby was kneeling on the ground, that’s when you decide to remove your heels, desperate to get them off of your feet. Abby notices this as well, and catches one of your heels before it fals to the ground. “Leave them on, angel.” she tells you, slipping the heel back on your foot. “You look so fucking sexy in these.”

Normally, you’d just protest about how much they were bothering you and take them off anyway. But you simply oblige to keep them on for Abby’s sake. You were willing to go through it a little longer to stay on her good side. You wanted to be good for her. You wanted to be her angel.

Her hands are now making their way up your thighs, stopping at the bottom hem of your skirt. She then bunches the tight fabric that was hugging your hips before pushing it up, allowing more space for you to spread your legs open for her. Her eyes were now met with your clothed cunt, along with a visible patch seeping out of your white thong. She soon hooks a finger underneath the fabric and shifts it to the side, revealing your wet pussy from underneath it.

The sight of your pussy alone already had her mouth watering. Your slick was glistening under the dim, incandescent light of the bathroom and your tight hole was visibly clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled.

“Fuck…” she groaned out quietly as she gently ran two of her fingers over the surface of your cunt, collecting a bit of your slick in the process. “Is this all for me, angel?” she asks, looking up at you.

“M-Mhm…” you whimpered back, nodding quickly. “It’s all for you, Abby, please…”

Abby averts her gaze back down to your pussy, watching as your slick trails itself down to the bathroom counter. She was soon quick to dive her head in and lick an experimental stripe up your pussy to collect your slick on her tongue, achieving the taste of you as she did so.

“My god, angel…you even taste just as heavenly as you look right now,” she mutters out quietly.

Abby wasn’t lying about that. From her perspective, you were truly a sight for sore eyes right now. Legs spread out for her, head thrown back in pleasure with the material of your costume bunched up around your waist and hips to show the parts of you she wanted to see the most, all while your wings remained steady on your back, surrounding your precious figure. You truly looked heavenly in her eyes, and the sounds you were making from her touch sounded just as angelic as you looked right now.

Without delaying any longer, Abby inserts two of her fingers into your pussy, The sudden movement startles you for a bit, before your cunt soon begins to relax around her fingers.

“Look at that, angel…she’s taking my fingers so well…” she murmurs to you, watching as your pussy greedily sucks her fingers further inside. “This pussy is already doing so good for me, baby…I bet you’ve been wanting this for a while now, haven’t you?”

You nod quickly once again. “G-God, yes, Abs…I need you so bad..” you whimper back to her biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning any louder.

Abby notices once again, and brings her free hand up to your bottom lip to free it from the grasp of your teeth. “There’s no need for that, angel…I need to hear those pretty sounds of yours.”

With her fingers still nestling inside your cunt, she brings her mouth to your throbbing clit, gently sucking on it as she slowly pumps her fingers in and out of you.

It didn’t take long for the speed of her fingers to increase. The faster her two fingers pounded into your pussy, the harder her lips would wrap around on your clit, taking away all of the space in between as she continued to suck on it.

As a result of her fast movements, the sounds your body was making in that bathroom were absolutely obscene. Between the wet squelching noises of your pussy and the moans and whimpers that were escaping from your mouth, Abby can’t help but feel so turned on from it, practically rubbing her own thighs together for some relief as she continued to devour your pussy.

Your orgasm quickly began to build itself up inside you, and based on the way your cunt was squeezing Abby’s fingers right now, she could tell you were getting close too.

“A-Abby…I-I think I’m gonna cum…” you whine out to her, both of your hands gripping onto the bathroom counter while your hips begin to involuntarily grind against her face.

“Let it out for me, angel…” she murmurs into your pussy, her movements still refusing to quit. “Take it out on me, baby…fuck my face until you finish, just like that…”

Your hips rut against your mouth a few more times, along with the involuntary movements of your pussy tightly clenching around her fingers and your clit pulsing in her mouth.

You instantly finish into her mouth and onto her fingers with a loud moan of her name, followed by your thighs trembling right after your climax. Thank God that the party’s music from outside was loud enough to keep anyone else from hearing what was going on inside.

Abby soon removed her mouth from your pussy while slowing the pace of her fingers, fucking you through it as you progessively recover from your orgasm. You hear a quiet groan escape from her mouth as she pulls her fingers out of you, watching as your cunt pushes out your thick white release and let it drip its way down to the counter. You watch her do the same movement from before, licking another stripe up your pussy to collect the rest of your release onto her tongue.

Once you were clean, Abby removes each of your legs off of her shoulders and pulls herself away from your pussy, wiping whatever that was smeared on her face with the back of her hand.

Abby then picks herself up off the floor and stands in between your legs to fix up your costume. Once you were all good, she helps you get off of the counter and back on your feet.

You reach over to pick up your halo off of the ground, Abby also doing the same with her snapback. “Thank you again for that, Abby…This definitely made my night.” you tell her, biting your lip again to hide back your smile.

The blonde smiles at you in response. “Of course, angel, its no problem…” she takes a quick breath before continuing. “You know…you can spend the night at my place, if you’d like..” she offers to you, nervously rubbing the back of her head as she does so.

You smile back at her and nod, your eyes beaming at her blue ones. “I would love that, actually.”

Abby then turns the knob and opens the door, revealing the chaotic atmosphere of the party once again. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” she tells you, keeping her hand back around your waist and by her side.

From that point forward, it was safe to say that the rest of that night was anything but slow for the both of you.

- a/n: i’m so sorry if this looks rushed, i really wanted to have this out by today! @ anon if you’re out there i hope you enjoyed it 🙏🏻

happy halloween y’all, stay safe for me tonight 🤍

tags 🏷️: @ourautumn86 @abbyscherry @whore4abby @zombholic @catfern

2023 © atomicami | all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.

[dotster001]

Yo! I really enjoy your writting style and was wondering if you do songfics? I didn't see anything in the pinned post but if you don't you can just delete this

If you do, could I request a azul ashengrotto x reader (gn if possible) based on Study Me by Zutomayo? (https://youtu.be/Atvsg_zogxo), i just think that it would be fun for the reader to try and get their feelings across whilst it either flies over azuls head or he just thinks that the reader is pulling a prank on him

Terribly sorry if this request is too guided, i got really exited

Study Me

A/N: hope this is what you wanted, lol, I get especially nervous about song fics, cause it's such a "I know what I want" kind of thing

3k followers masterlist

Azul stared at you, expressionless. Then his lips split in a grin. A grin that sent shivers down your spine.

In these moments when I’m brimming with highly defined painful emotions Saying ‘there’s nothing I can do’ is embarrassing

"Or maybe it was one of his little friends. Either way, I'll find them whether you tell me or not. So this is your last chance."

"Rielle put you up to this, didn't he?"

"Who-" you started, but were cut off by his mirthless laugh.

"I'm so confused, do you not accept my feelings?"

He stared at you, the fury rising in his aura. You were more frightened than worried about your confession.

"I'll say this once. Stop wasting my time."

Ah~ It’s fine, put on your airs as you (you loner) are You punk punk, status quo maintaining immortal

You rushed out, bumping into Jade with a half hearted apology, before running down the hall.

"Don't you think you were too hard on them? Y/N seemed genuine?" Jade asked Azul, seeming genuinely distressed that things had not gone as expected.

"No one could ever love me," Azul smirked. "Find out who put them up to this. Make them pay."

You lay in your bed, staring at the ceiling. It all still hadn't sunk in yet. That he'd laughed in your face. That he'd yelled at you. That he'd outright rejected the deep feelings of love that had, you had thought, been mutually building.

This funky feeling will continue to change today’s song so that’s why I took the plunge

Guess you were wrong.

Your phone buzzed, Jade's name coming up. You let it ring, staring at the ceiling. When it finished that round of buzzing, it started buzzing again, this time Floyd's name popping up on the screen.

You sighed, shutting down your phone, and shutting your eyes, trying to drown out the crushing approach of realization.

Your eyes filled with tears, and you took a heaving breath.

But now I just wanna cry, make a plan for this reference book of emotions I’ve gathered

All this time, you'd truly thought…you'd truly believed …

You thought back to all the lingering glances you'd shared, all the moments you two stood closer than you needed to, the times when Azul initiated a touch or a conversation, and the two of you had hesitated to end it.

Had you truly misread the situation so hard? Was he using you?

Study me, figure me out

Azul was angrily drafting contracts. He'd get them. He'd get whoever had taken your fragile peace, and crushed it. How could he have been so blind? How could he have let you slip through?

"Azul," Floyd whined, waiting on the phone for what had to be the tenth call he had made to you. "Shrimpy really likes you? Why can't you see that?"

The pen in Azul's hand snapped.

"So you put them up to this? I thought you were my friend!" He snarled.

"Shrimpy-"

"You see me as some pathetic, clumsy octopus, just like everyone else!"

"Azul-"

"Get out!"

With a flick of his pen, Floyd floated out of the vip room, landing on his ass as the door slammed shut.

He angrily huffed, and moved to bang on the door, but froze in his step as he heard a shuddering sob from within.

"He's just scared. Please. Talk to him."

What should I do today? I can’t look back without being optimistic, it’d be dangerous

Jade and Floyd had broken into Ramshackle. They were sitting at the foot of your bed, reiterating the tale you'd heard time and again.

You were well aware of Azul's past. But you thought…

I want to stay healthy, at least

You had hoped…

Maybe you could have been enough.

In the end though I’ve managed to raise these emotions

And I’m staying humble about it all, I don’t wanna be poisoned by them

"Why should I try again?" You asked, bitterly. "So he can laugh in my face, again? So he can break my heart again?"

"Honestly? So I can go back into the dorm," Floyd pouted, quickly followed by Jade elbowing him in the side.

You turned on your stomach, burying your face in your pillow.

"Y/N. He loves you. If you try again-"

You groaned, turned back over, and kicked at Jade.

"Shrimpy, until you try again, I'm moving in," Floyd growled.

You kicked at him again, but this only made him laugh.

"You have plenty of empty rooms, roomie! It'll be fun! Confess to Azul~"

He skipped out of the room, seemingly to choose his room. Now it was Jade's turn to sigh.

Azul tried to focus on running the restaurant. Now that they were down a Floyd. But everyone around him was on edge. He couldn't say why for sure-

I put my memories of yesteryear through the wash but as usual In this cold season they’re still not dry In this season of false bravery they’re still not dry.

"Alanno! If you drop one more glass you're fired!"

Yeah. It was a big mystery. Consequently, he had to work twice as hard. So he had time to think.

To think about you.

You're laugh.

Your smile.

The way you always sought him out.

The way you snuggled against him when he helped you with homework.

Had he.…had he been wrong?

No. That's what you wanted, wasn't it? He thought as he snapped at Miles, who was going to comfort his stressed boyfriend.

Wasn't it?

Study me, figure me out

Wasn't it?!?!?!

He dropped his own tray of glasses. Making Miles and Alanno have to fight very hard not to snicker at him.

I hope that the weakness that keeps you thinking of me Is still hurting you, even just a little

He stared at the shards of glass on the floor, before slowly kneeling down.

You would have been comforting him right now. You would have told him to go to his room, while you cleaned his mess. You would have brought him a mug of tea, then sat next to him and caressed his hair.

And I hope that you even start to find them inevitable And be just as soaked in these emotions as me

You might as well have been dating already, with the way you both interacted on a daily basis.

I hope that the strength that keeps you thinking of me Is still troubling you, even just a little

You were probably just playing the long game.

But as he stared at the floor, he realized even if you were pretending…

He would be willing to play along forever.

Study me, figure me out

"Ask him. Ask him. Ask him. Ask him."

Floyd was the worst roommate ever.

But if his tactic was to get you to ask out Azul, again…it was working.

He wasn't just annoying you. He was telling stories. Stories of childhood Azul. Stories of present Azul. Stories of Azul before you. Stories of Azul with you.

Sevens, you love that man…

"Ask him. Ask him. Ask hi-" he cut himself off with your half hearted glare. He grinned, mildly sinisterly, before singing out, "Yes!"

You took a heavy breath, and knocked on the door of the vip room.

I’m choosing the uncertain Cause today’s song will keep changing

"Enter."

You square your shoulders, and push the door open.

He looked up, and his face was immediately beet red, eyes flickering back down to his desk.

"Prefect." He greeted.

"Azul." You said, cooly taking a seat. "I want to make a deal."

His eyes widened, quickly flickering back up to meet yours.

"Oh?"

"There's something I want."

He stiffened, but summoned a golden contract anyway, beginning to write.

"And what, pray tell, would that be?"

"Not what, but who."

The pen snapped. He slowly pulled out a second one.

"Mhmm."

"The problem is, I confessed to him before, and he doesn't love me back. So you'll have to use a love potion."

He froze, and gently set the pen down. He looked up at you, eyes tearing up.

"You don't need one. He already returns your feelings. He's just a stupid idiot sometimes."

You smiled, softly.

"I can work with that."

Isn’t that amazing for both of us?

That’s all i can ask now

[taigathenotsonicewing]

LYNXFALL INCORRECT QUOTES

For the desperate lynxfall shippers (like me)

-

Lynx: I'm gonna marry you someday.

Snowfall: Not if I marry you first!

Snowfall: wait

-

Crystal: I know you're in love with her.

Snowfall: I'm not in love with Lynx.

Crystal: I didn't say who.

Snowfall:

Snowfall: fuck you.

-

Snowfall: I've been dropping them the most obvious hints for like a year now. No response.

Lynx: Wow, they sound really stupid

Snowfall: They’re not stupid, They’re really smart actually. Just dense.

Lynx: Maybe you need to be more obvious? Like, "Hey! I love you!"

Snowfall: That could work.

Snowfall: Hey Lynx, I love you.

Lynx: See! Just say that!

Snowfall: Holy fucking shit

Lynx: If that flies over they’re head then, sorry, but they’re too dumb for you Snowfall

Snowfall: Lynx.

-

Snowfall: HELP! I TOLD LYNX I’D MAKE DINNER TONIGHT BUT I CAN’T COOK!

Winter, pouring milk directly into the cereal bag: And you thought I could help?

-

Lynx: *yawns*

Snowfall: Yeah, being that pretty must be tiring.

Lynx: Then you must be exhuasted.

Winter: Will you two shut up? Some of us are lonely

-

Snowfall: Wait, did you just flirt with me?

Lynx: Have been for the past year, but thanks for noticing.

-

Lynx: You have feelings for me?

Snowfall: Yeah, but it’s kinda wrecking my whole “heartless bitch” vibe, so I don’t know.

-

Snowfall: Hey can you turn on the light?

Lynx: You’re the only light I need in my life

Snowfall: Lynx, I can’t fucking see

-

Snowfall: I don’t do love. Love is for suckers!

Lynx: *exists*

Snowfall:

Snowfall: fuck!

-

Snowfall: Lynx made me feel.

Crystal: Feel what?

Snowfall: Feelings.

Crystal: Lynx made you feel feelings?

Snowfall: Yeah.

Snowfall: what a bitch.

-

Lynx: Snowfall, I don’t want to embarass you or anything, but I think you like me.

Snowfall, pointing at their matching rings: Lynx, we’ve been married for like two years now.

-

Winter: Snowfall isn’t answering her phone

Lynx: I’ll call

Winter: Crystal and I have both tried six times each, what makes you thi-

Snowfall: Hello?

-

Snowfall: Thanks to Taiga, Flint has now taken up cursing

Snowfall: Yesterday he referred to bedtime as a "fucking crisis".

(Included some ocs in this one, Flint is one of my SnowLynx dragonets)

-

Lynx: Just say "I love you", stupid.

Snowfall, with a small grin on her face: I love you, stupid.

-

Lynx: I love you.

Snowfall: how many dragons do you tell the same thing to?

Lynx: everyone.

Snowfall: everyone?

Lynx: yeah, I tell everyone that I love you!

-

Snowfall: What? Lynx? Why? Because she's pretty and sweet and makes me feel good about myself?

Crystal:

Crystal: I Didn’t say who

Snowfall:

Snowfall: No…

-

Snowfall: It’s so annoying how Lynx is good at everything. There’s got to be something she’s terrible at.

Crystal: Maybe she’s a bad kisser.

Snowfall: No, she’s good at that too.

Crystal: 

Crystal: Excuse me?

[bluebellhairpin]

Tamed.

Kenny Ackerman X Reader

Summary: Working as a bartender you meet a lot of different people. Kenny Ackerman just happens to be one of your regulars. Maybe a friend. Perhaps more.

Warnings: Swearing. Kinda Perv Kenny (but he's a good Uncle so it cancels out ig). Canon Character Death. Reader; drinks alcohol, is called 'sweetheart', refers to themselves as ' the mothering type', otherwise is g/n.

Listening to: 'More Than a Feeling' by Boston - "So many people have come and gone. Their faces fade as the years go by yet I still recall as I wander on, as clear as the sun in the summer sky - it's more than a feeling."

Masterlist || Ko-Fi || Slice of Life Collab

You’d been working at The Lake for two years. They would’ve been quite a pleasant two years working the local watering hole, if not for your own personal demon leering over your shoulder most nights. 

Kenny Ackerman. 

It wasn’t that he was an awful guy. His more sleazy words and looks were only ever that, words and looks. He dared never lay such sleazy hands on anyone - which was half the reason he had never been kicked out. It was mostly due to his endearing quality of how quick he was to throw hands with other patrons - the rowdy ones who deserved to be thrown out to begin with - and he almost loved doing the honours of telling people not to come back too much. 

Either way, he was more annoying than anything else. Plain old annoying. 

Kenny was so closed off that - even after two years of shifts that ended at 1AM where you stumbled out from exhaustion after closing, and he stumbled out beside you from one too many beers - you couldn’t even say you knew his favourite colour. But… 

You did know he rode a Harley Davidson which roared into the parking lot almost every night you worked. He’d tempted you with a ride home on it multiple times, and you’d yet to agree - and as much as you itched to take him up on the offer, the unspoken cat and mouse game you’d started wasn’t going to be ended by you. 

You knew he had a tattoo that stretched over the back of his shoulders - thanks to a New Year's bet that he wouldn’t completely strip and jump off the jetty into the lake (the one the bar was named after). He won over a hundred dollars that night, and promptly shouted everyone their next drink. The tattoo read ‘Ripper’ in big gothic block letters. Not that you remembered on purpose - anyone would remember a tattoo like that, you told yourself. 

You knew he had a sister - he didn’t talk about her much, but he brought a woman in with him once and told you “not to worry your pretty head” about it. She was a pretty little thing, with dark hair and eyes that matched his. She had a manner to her that spoke of a kind soul with thick skin. You liked her, but you’d yet to see her again. 

And you knew he was one of the only patrons of The Lake who could pull off a greasy mullet. Or sing Redgum karaoke while barely being able to stand and still make it sound good. Hell, that somehow made it sound more real, the guy had you almost pouring a martini through tears. 

You had guessed that tonight would be just like any other. 

It wasn’t. 

Thursday’s were about as uninhabited as The Lake got. On a night so humid, and with no reason to get out of the house, no one was around. A storm was smelt in the air, one evening spent at home wasn’t a worry for anyone, if only to save themselves from being caught in the rain. 

Hearing Kenny’s bike rumble into his usual spot was no difficult feat on a night so quiet. You’d just finished fishing out a new box of beer bottles for a fridge behind the bar that was lacking when he walked in. What had you stopping mid-step with your mouth open wide enough to catch flies was who he had with him. 

“Whose fucking kid is that Kenny?” 

Nothing but the sound of The Rolling Stones answered your question. “I could not foresee this thing happening to you.” The jukebox sang. 

Yet the state of the child whose bicep was in a vice grip between Kenny’s fingers only raised even more questions. His face wall sunken in, and eyes blown wide as if taking in the world for the first time. He looked awful. 

Kenny walked over to the bar, dragging the poor boy beside him and pulling him up onto a bar stool before sliding onto one himself. You sat the box down on the floor, looking at Kenny expectantly.

“What food you got?” 

“Depends what you’re looking for.” Kenny looked down at the boy, pointing vaguely. 

“Hasn't eaten in,” they both shared a quiet look, “A while.” 

“M’kay.” You ducked into the back room, telling your chef/manager/accountant/boss that an actual meal was needed tonight, then returned with a pre-made peanut bowl. You slid it down in front of the kid, turning again behind the bar to make up a glass of water and passing it to him also. 

Then you turned to Kenny. 

“I know you don’t like telling people stuff, but for that kid’s sake I’m gonna have to ask you what you’re doing with him.” You said, eyeing the boy as he plunged his hand into the bowl of peanuts. “You don’t really give off ‘dad’ vibes, deadbeat or otherwise, and I really hope you didn’t kidnap him.” He just scoffed. 

“Can I get a whiskey.” he said, looking up at you, “Or are you just good for not minding your business and looking pretty?” 

“I’m trying to make sure you’re not doing bad guy shit. I can let the lewd comments slide, but if you’re doing stuff with a kid you’re not supposed to I’m gonna call the cops.” you said, “No need to be rude about it.” 

You turned to grab the top shelf whiskey as he lifted a hand to push back his hair. He sighed deeply and hunched over as you placed a glass in front of him. 

“He’s my sister’s.” Kenny admitted quietly. “She’s… Died. I’ve got him for tonight. At least.” His words sent a cold but quick shock down your spine. “One step better than government housing or wherever.” You recovered quickly even though his openness had left you grasping at straws for what to say next. It wasn’t like him to give away so much information. 

“I’m sorry.” you’d said, resting your hands on your workbench, then after a few long moments added, “What’s his name?” 

“Levi.” 

The boy lifted his eyes at the sound of his name, but otherwise didn’t move from his now highly converted bowl of nuts. From the way his hands cradled the bowl, it didn’t look like he’d be sharing them anytime soon. You looked at him, properly, and saw nothing but how sad he must be feeling. 

You didn’t know Kenny well, but you knew him. Enough to know that he was not someone friendly enough for some kid who just lost his mum - whether he was their uncle or not. But could you do about it? You weren’t exactly the mothering type either. 

Thunder cracked in the not-too-far distance as you poured the boy another glass of water.

You hadn’t seen Kenny for a week. 

That was unusual mostly because the longest he’d gone without frequenting your bar was about three days. If you’d known his address, you would’ve visited just to make sure he hadn’t died while looking after his nephew. 

When he finally showed up, you almost didn’t notice him. If it wasn’t for him tapping the bar - a way of asking for a whiskey on the rocks that only he used - he would’ve completely flown under your radar on that busy Saturday night. 

“And where’ve you been?” you’d asked during a moment's calm while the other bartender poured drinks. 

He looked up at you, slighting his hat up with a pointed finger so he could meet your eyes. He had been so quiet - and he looked so tired. It was no wonder you barely noticed him when he was so out of character. 

“What, missed me didcha?” But the snark didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Where’s the kid?” 

“At home.” he mumbled into his glass, tipping it up and drinking half in one go. When he met your eyes again you raised an eyebrow. “Not alone - I’m not that stupid sweetheart.” 

“I’m five minutes from the end of my shift. Buy me a drink.” 

“No thanks.” He scoffed at you. 

“That wasn’t a question.” You said, starting to turn away, “Kahlua with vodka, thanks.” 

Going back to work, you kept an eye on him. Watching as he downed the rest of his drink in (again) one go. He got the attention of the other bartender, ordering another whiskey, and a kahlua with vodka. 

When you returned to the front of the bar after ditching your apron, you found Kenny sitting with his back towards you at a table near a window, with both drinks before him. 

“Didn’t think you’d actually listen to me asking for a drink.” you said, patting his shoulder as you came around to sit at the seat across. He smiled a little - but it was nothing like the wide wolfish grins you normally saw. 

“You weren’t askin’, remember?” 

“You didn’t have to listen.” you said, sipping on your drink and taking a proper moment to look him over. “You look horrible by the way.” 

“Jesus, thanks sweetheart.” he said into his glass - but took a much smaller mouthful of his drink compared to before, “You know how to make an old man’s night.” 

“The kid’s been putting you through the ringer, huh?” His eyes met yours and you saw his shoulders slump - barely. 

“That obvious?” he asked. When you nodded he sighed, slumping back in his seat with his hands ruling over his face and into his hair under his hat - his gangly legs stretched so far under the table that they slid between yours. “He’s a downright brat. It’s ridiculous. Karma has it out for me, I can see it now.” 

“It surely isn’t that bad, you might just need to get used to it - it’s barely been a week -” 

“I found him standing behind me in the kitchen holding a bread knife.” Kenny said, leaning forward on his elbows to whisper. “I think he wants to kill me.” 

“He wouldn’t be the first.” you said, taking your turn to speak into your glass while you drank. 

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.” you scoffed, setting the glass down again, “But after two years, I think I don’t want that so much - just give him time.” 

“You seriously trying to persuade me that an eight year old who hates me doesn’t want me dead?” 

“‘You seriously trying to persuade me that an eight year old who hates me does want you dead’? Listen to yourself Kenny.” You said, mocking him, but making him think seriously at once. “He’s lost his mum, you’re not so cold to think a boy would want to lose another relative again so quickly.” 

You felt his legs shift between yours - they pulled away, but not enough. You could still feel the warmth of his calf press against yours. “Anyways, with how you wave your pocket knife around so - he might’ve just been trying to copy you.” 

“Right,” he said, lifting his glass to his lips and casting a long glance out the window. “Kids do that, don’t they?” The conversation entered a lull as you both took turns sipping your drinks and staring at the lake lapping at the jetty. A comfortable silence if you ever knew one. 

The air around you changed as the jukebox started a familiar riff of AC/DC. “She was a fast machine, she kept her motor clean. She was the best damn woman that I ever seen.” 

Kenny looked at you, downed his drink, then spoke. 

“Wanna take me up on that ride tonight?” he asked. You broke out in a grin. 

It was still warm outside, and the gravel car park crunched under your feet as Kenny led you to his bike. 

There was a thrill sitting hot and heavy in your gut. The fact you had said yes to Kenny to a ride home - perhaps more. Did you want more? He was attractive, in an older man sort of way, and despite all the gross things he could say sometimes he was still a nice enough guy.

Heaven knows you could both use a chance to get laid.  

“I was starting to wonder how much longer I had to work on you before you finally said yes.” he said, breaking away from your slide to throw a leg over the seat with a grin. His hand outstretched to offer help to get on behind him. “Lucky for you, I'm a patient man.” 

As you slid your hand into his, you climbed on - soon finding that in order to be comfortable you needed to be pressed quite close to his back. But you were feeling like being a tease too. 

“Maybe I’ve liked making you wait.” you hummed, chin pressed to his shoulder as you spoke into his ear. You felt him chuckle under your palms as he kicked the engine into gear. 

“Maybe I’ve liked waiting.” he said over the machine’s roar. 

[annabelvallie]

The Regime of Gluttony and Starvation.

a dystopian short story by Annabel Vallie.

I wonder if they know. Do they sip the golden bubbled concoction and think of every throat that spit cannot even comfort? If they pull seared flesh from polished forks do they imagine the gnashing, desperate teeth of children who claw desperately at what they call “dog food,”?

They call this city Eden. In school, we’re taught that we are safe from disease, agony, and sadness. Something everyone at this grotesquely over-decorated table knows nothing of. How can the pleasured know they are joyous when they have never been pained? How can the glutted know themselves satisfied if they have never been hungry? Eden was built on gluttony. We are told the outside world is sick. A type of illness that doesn't forgive but punishes. I wouldn’t call it sick—morbid maybe. I had learned that word from one of the novels we read in Lyceum education; the book ‘A Dark Hour’ was written some 500 years ago in a place called Vietnam. The author called the country hell on earth, a place where filth and evil are magnified. Our city’s teachers reference beyond the walls as desolate nothingness, birthed from a war that was far worse than Vietnam. 

Rusted oranges and browns made the outside world. Kicked-up dirt filtered the air with a thick haze; irritating eyes that would never know tears; water was too precious to be wasted on emotion. The heavy sound of moans and comfortless cries carried with no destination, as did the smell of waste, constantly assaulting the hairs in your nose. Hot air thickened my throat, making it hard to breathe. Bodies discarded like statues haunted the breathing, similar to those on paper that piled into sunken earth. Every movement was strained as if they had to fight for the ability to take a step. Through the swarm of people, there was no end.

Barbed wire snatched a handful of skin from my thigh, making me wince. Before the sultry air could oxidise the gash, flies were frenzying on the crimson. 

I had never known suffocation until the day of Matia.

“Joseph, pass the grapes please.” A short man whose jaw seemed to rest slack held out his hand, motioning to the silver bowl that harboured bulbs of green and purple. Passing it to him, I watched as he pierced the skin of a grape with pearly teeth. All I could think of was the people beyond the wall who would fight one another for a cluster of what he would consume in a short moment, not out of hunger but boredom before the main course arrived.

Praefectus Cain, the man sitting at the head of the table with a Navy Blue suit, held up his glass, motioning for silence. “Welcome, Abigail Dupont, Elijah Fournier, and Joseph Martin.” He hovered his glass in the direction of the girl on my left and the boy on my right. “We thank you for taking your position in the Imperium. We trust that after Matia today your eyes have been opened and you will continue Eden’s legacy and keep our people safe and at peace.” 

The values of Eden surround love, whether that means the effort and care of a pastry or the simple act of clearing a guest’s plate. Gratitude is more important than the act itself. The way your fork and knife lie after a meal is communication and appreciation on its own. The meal was delicious if the handles were south with their blade and prongs pointed east. Lust, the overwhelming desire of another, is praised almost as highly as a perfectly smooth-shelled macaroon. Devotion is embroidered into liquor that makes your brain twist as if it were inside a dough mixer. 

Here, to love is to feed, eat, indulge, and blur gluttony and greed into the same idea. Seared beef, vanilla sponge cake, caramel, strawberries that dribble at the corners of your mouth, thick shakes with colour dye, the peel of a mandarin, wishbones, salted butter, sherbert, pineapple that burns your tongue, appetisers, and hors d’oeuvres. The table shrank as plates piled from the kitchen, what used to be a pristine cotton table cloth now plates of every meal imaginable. It is a special day of course. As people began to feast I felt as though my body had conformed to a jelly-like substance, unable to move on its own, only able to react to the drunken movement surrounding it. 

The next day I found myself focused on every passing person on my way to work. Specifically, I stared at how their mouths curled into smiles and eyes creased with joy. Stupidity and negligence are bliss. If they knew what was outside they too would be burdened and distraught. 

A woman with blonde hair that moved like ripples around her head caught my attention. Her cheeks and lips looked to be stained with cherry juice, and she took her time letting her heels click on and drag with every step she took. At that moment I thought of how she laughed—if it was quiet and withdrawn or louder. How did she prefer her eggs—scrambled, poached, fried, or boiled? I thought about a lifetime in a minute, and during that time, I forgot about what was beyond the walls. Possibly, I could remain this way. If I mocked what everyone around me did, I might find the joy that they experienced. If I married and partied and ate would that sickening feeling I have held with me since Matia dissipate? 

The Imperium was stationed north of Eden just past a row of oak trees that signified the end of the orchid plantation. I would park in the furthest spot from the entrance, press through a swing door that moves awfully slowly to accommodate those who wobble more than walk, and make my way through the hallway that runs through the city wall. Even though I pass through five days out of seven I cannot help but stare out the wall’s windows every chance I could. The small slits in the hallway that allowed tainted auburn light to flow through and the large painting-like glass in the central office reminded everyone of what we shield from our citizens. At lunch for an hour we sit at a stretched table overlooking Eden’s farmland and feast on whatever specials the chef had plotted, yesterday was a honeyed duck. “I don’t know what is wrong with you Joseph, this is one of the best ducks I’ve had this year and you refuse to eat more than an appetiser,” Abigaile exclaimed after finishing off the meat. 

I replied softly, knowing more than one ear was listening. “My appetite isn’t as strong as it used to be. Thank you for your consideration” It was an uncommon phenomenon, a refusal of food. Not eating is the equivalent of vetoing oxygen. “I’m just going to use the bathroom, excuse me.” I stand, placing the folded unstained napkin on the cushioned chair. Taking a last glance at the quantity of people and the view of my city I continue down one of the hallways. Even though my stomach growled the idea of eating repulsed me. During the day my mouth would salivate in the hope of relief, by night when all I wanted was to binge I would finally make myself something.  Tonight I may have the oysters my father brought round this morning. He works at a lease and every time I crack salt over my plate I think of him, how his skin smelt like the unfiltered water and his hands that were callus and corse from cutting open their shells. 

Taking each step I find myself mimicking the women I see most days on my way here. Click, drag. Click, drag… and just as I do with every window, discarding the bathroom where I was headed, my eyes wander to the clear surface overlooking the apocalyptic world a mere twenty meters away from our utopia. Instead of continuing further, my body lurches to a frozen halt. Apparently, on the other side, they can’t see through the glass. To them, it looks like the stone pattern remains unbroken. I don’t believe that. Staring through the glass, I am met with another man mirroring myself. His eyes are tired but focused and unwavering from mine. His nose has a crease at the bridge as if it were broken, and his teeth are jagged with gums receding so highly that they could have been finger bones. What scared me the most was how hollow his cheeks were. As if scooped with a soup spoon. His face resembles somewhat of Edvard Munch’s ‘The Scream’. 

Instead of taking a step forward in concern or back in retreat, I simply stared. When I felt someone lock their knees next to me, my gaze remained on the window in a competition-like fashion.

Praefectus Cain’s firm voice began, “Joseph, is something upsetting you? Are you hungry?” 

Pulling my head back, feeling the muscles tense around every vertebra in a rehearsed sequence like piano keys in a glissando. I looked at him—at his round stomach, at his creased forehead, at his thin blond hair, at his tie bar with the words ‘Ab ovo usque ad mala’ engraved into the silver—before staring back at the window like a child and a cartoon film. I felt nauseated like I had just drunk vomitorium, a tiny ounce glass filled with yellow liquid that made you sick so you could go on eating. They usually have them at balls and galas. “I’m fine, thank you… Do…” My voice crackled as if a teaspoon of honey sat on my windpipe. “Do you ever think of helping them, the people out there?”

He thought, not about the answer but how to word it. “Yes, when I was your age.”

“I can’t think of how to describe it. I feel bad, sorry.

“Guilt.” The word was spoken as if he had been waiting to use it. 

The word was alien: “I’m sorry, sir, I don’t know what that means.”

We remain facing forward, “It means you have morals, something only a few here hold. Knowledge is the heaviest of all burdens, even if it carries no weight.  

“We have food to spare.” By then the man on the other side of the wall had walked off, his feet kicking up more loose orange powder-like dirt.

“How could you choose who receives a bounty? Every living thing is bound by fate. The people of Eden are safe from hunger because they are lucky. If we were to open our resources, what would happen? They are animals, Joseph. Unlike us, their world does not have a drop of civilisation.” Through the window, two boys ran towards a bird that had fallen to the ground. With desperate efforts, the taller one had proved victorious in the feathered corpse, and the shorter one crouched over the ground, echoing the fallen animal. “Tell me, Joseph, would they eat, or would they devour? The flesh of our loved ones would be torn from their bones and they would drink like we do red wine. These animals do not know amity, love, or kindness; we are survivors, that is what separates us.”

With a sigh, I could feel the pads of my fingers tingle with anticipation of cold sweat and unease. “Then, if being inhumane constitutes our difference, are we not the same?”

[silvermags]

RWBY Reaction Part 1

So! Storytime: When the RT shutdown was announced, I was of course very sad, but I also got anxious, because a very dear friend of mine, @ajelementus had previously expressed the desire to watch RWBY with me, and at the announcement I was worried that we would not be able to, since at the time we didn't know if RWBY would be coming back. So, we found a time, and we marathoned all the way through RWBY over the course of about four days, finishing just ahead of the website deletion. I spent the whole time writing down our reactions, and now, in honor of RWBY being so back (!) I'm releasing them. This will be part 1, covering volumes 1-6. I'll do a second post later with V7-Beyond, and maybe I'll even release the RWBYxJustice League reactions too!

Actual reactions under the cut. Important note, I had already watched RWBY before, but AJ never had. My reactions will be black, AJ's green, quotes from the show in bolded red, and any other notes in purple italics. With that, let's get to it!

-AJ twigged to Ruby's reference fast.

-I forgot how much of a piece of work Weiss is.

-“No one will know we're working together” “Sweetheart, everyone knows you're working together.”

-“I drink milk” “There we go.”

-”I'm pretty sure they'd actually intervene.”   “Let's hope.”

-”YoU wiLL bE fAlLiNg”

-AJ’s current favorites:  Ruby and Jaune, but "Ren and Nora's dynamic is fun."

-About Pyrrha:  “Good shot.”

-Ruby Weiss partnership “Mwahaha.”  “Seems fitting.”

-“Attacked out of turn”  I forgot about that.  Man Weiss was sheltered.

-Yang watching Ruby “You and I know what that was.”  “My baby sister’s doing it!”

-”Why would you ask if they’ve been discriminated against?  It's like asking if anyone's experienced racism!”

-This is pretty humiliating for Cardin, Jaune's not even trained and he's holding his own better than him.

-I love Penny 

-”Wait, you weren't supposed to know she's a faunus yet.” “I'm not?  But her last name, it makes sense she's part beast.”

-”I like Blake's music.”

-Before docks fight “I can't wait to see what Penny does because I know she's gonna be OP.” 

-After: “I was right.”

-”Is she an android?” “You keep figuring things out way faster than you should.”

-“There's plenty of fish in the sea.” In unison: “Hint.  Hint.”  “He'll get a clue eventually.”

-“I've made friends that will last a lifetime.” Me internally:  aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

-AJ’s favorites as of the dance:  Blake and Pyrrha.

-”She's gonna lose because of the shoes, isn't she?”

-About the white fang “They are very bad shots.” “Although I suppose if they did hit we might not notice because of aura.”  “True.”

-“this doesn't make sense.”  Three seconds later “this doesn't make sense!”

-Blake kicks Torchwick’s head.  “Good shot.”  “He deserves that.”

-During the V2 finale “I don't trust them [Atlas] one bit.  They're gonna be the enemy, mark my words.”

-”I feel like there's something about the Grimm we're missing.”

-”I don't trust him.”  Ironwood “You have to trust me.” “I don't!”

-”The Amity colosseum flies.”  “Until it falls.  That's how it usually goes.”

-“I don't know who to trust.  These people are either evil or really bad at not being ominous.”

-”Silver, why are they being so stupid.”  

-”I don't want her to change. They're cute.  Don't ruin it.  Aaaaa!”

-“Wait, is this a show where people die?” (I laughed so hard at this.)

-We had to skip over Penny's death.  I told her what happened, but it was too much.

-“Grimm attack incoming” “Oh good, everyone's feeling super emotionally stable right now.”

-”They do not have enough airships for the evacuation.” 

-How did they get the Grimm on the airships?

-”Roman is way too casual to be participating in total civilizational collapse.”  “I get the feeling he doesn't know the big picture.  Then again, he's participating.”

-”Aha, they [the robots] ARE the problem.  Just not the way I thought.  Go Ruby go!”

-When the dragon emerged “That's great.”  (The most sarcastic I have ever heard her.)

-AJ’s least favorite character as of v3e11: Mercury.

-“Lie, steal, cheat, and survi-” “Well that was unexpected.  It was so random!”

-about Adam: “creep”

-”Well we're just dropping like flies.”

-AJ is doubtful that Oz is dead.

-In the tiniest voice I've ever heard from her:  “Pyrrha.”

-Wow that animation jump is bigger than I remembered.

-”I'm glad Ruby teamed up with Team Juniper.”

-Ooh boy, here she comes.

-I don't know what's wrong with Tyrian,  but it is not a small thing.

-Seriously, what is Oscar doing?  And why? 

-“I don't think that's gonna work.”  “big mistake.”

-“Right, then I will” Run for it.

-I forgot how great this music is.

-Me @ Jacques Schnee:  Blech.

-AJ about ironwood:  “I like him now, I was wrong, but I was right about the robots!”

-I reiterate:  whatever is wrong with Tyrian is not a small thing.

-Jacques is a terrible person.

-”Weiss needs to go to Ironwood.”

-As of now, Jacques is riding in AJ’s least favorite list, along with Tyrian.  Favorites are Jaune and Ruby again.

-”Qrow and Tyrian fight is cool.”

-”It's the shire moment.  [For Oscar]”

-Baby Ren is adorable and this episode tears my heartstrings.

-AJ doesn't think that the flashback in Kuroyuri has the characters' accents matching Ren.

-Poor baby Nora

-“You didn't drag us along, you gave us the courage to follow you.” “I knew I'd like this guy.”

-I'm literally crying, I forgot how much Ren losing his parents hurt.

-I hate the nuckelavee so, so much.  It makes the WORST sounds.

-“Go Nora!  Only close one of your boyfriend's hands around his ancestral weapon so he doesn't cut himself!”

-Weiss escapes:  “finally!”

-Watts really did just put his feet on the table, didn't he.

-AJ thinks Shay’s name is great.  I think he's a sleazeball.

-You startled my dog, Mr. Pilot man.

-Oscar's switch is creepy.

-AJ agrees with Nora.  

-I think Weiss would literally rather die than go back to Jacques, which is fair and valid.

-Oscar has jumped to AJ’s favorite.

-I love the old West music they keep giving Yang.  On a related note, AJ burst out laughing when Shay said he's dead.

-“I've known that Vernal is spring since the first time we saw her.”  (Me internally:  are you sure?)

-Qrow's list.  “That's not a good sign.”

-Raven’s voice is really nasal.

-I cannot believe a nomadic bandit tribe is hauling around all this crap.

-“Raven is a nosey spy.”

-“There's revelations left and right.”

-It's strange and amazing seeing Weiss defend Blake.

-“Someone didn't have her aura up and got the wind knocked out of her when she got divebombed.”

-“Oh look, he took off his armor.” “What was he saying about…”

-Watching this knowing all the songs is so cool, I'm catching way more details than the first time.

-“The return of the gun-chucks!”

-“Fennick is not so bright.”

-I love that Blake's crisscross straps are a Menagerie style.

-“[Cinder] needs to go down.”

-There's something wrong with Hazel too.

-AJ has called the healing semblance nearly ten minutes early.  Best guesser I've ever met.

-“That's a perfect semblance for Jaune.”

-After the raven reveal, “Should have gone with my original instinct.  We didn't know about the maidens then, but there was something.”

-Forever Fall playing when Jaune says he still believes Pyrrha!

-“I love how [Jaune's] semblance is what Pyrrha did for him.”

-“Why would you pose on something that's actively falling?”  “She can fly.”

-“It's interesting how there's layers of villains.  We don't like Raven, but we really don't like Cinder.”

-”What the heck is up with Emerald’s understanding of bones?”

-I forgot about Dee and Dudley.

-I didn't realize how early the diagonal checkerboard pattern showed up.  I think I saw it clear back at initiation.  Something to keep in mind for v9

-Cinder appears alive “Awwww”.

-“I was wondering what was up with the lady in the last season.”

-I never noticed that og Ozma sounds just like Oscar 

-Me and AJ @ the brother of light:  “what the heck?”

-Oh goodness, the unison guards.

-Ruby's theme in the background of the silver eye conversation, followed by “This'll Be the Day.”  So cool!

-“Emerald needs to put on a freaking shirt.”

-“They were all searching the city for him, and he literally just went shopping and came back to cook dinner.”

-Watching Lost was emotional for us.

-As of v6e9 AJ's favorite character would be Pyrrha if she was alive but is currently Oscar.

-We decided it would be easier and include less ads if we just found supercuts on youtube for the Adam vs. Blake and Yang and Cordovan fights, so some stuff here may be out of order.

-“Man Adam is a creep.”

-Me @ Adam every time he opens his mouth:  gagging noises.

-“Well, I think he's dead.”

-“An impressive mech.”

-“What is even the point of this [for cordovan]?” "Ego?”

-I feel like if you hadn't brought the giant robot out to try and beat up a bunch of teenagers, it would still be operational to fight the giant monster.

-“Oh boy, this one has a breath weapon.”   “That's no fair.”

-“Better go, before [Cordovan] changes her mind again.”  

-“All these floating things make me nervous.”

-I forgot they put the northern lights behind Atlas.  So pretty!

-“Oh boy, now she has flying monkeys!”   “I love all the things they throw in, they're fun.  Bad, but fun.”

[magicxc]

Hills and Valleys

Synopsis: Legend has it that Halloween is strictly for the scares. With ghouls and goblins, vampires and werewolves, witches and broomsticks, who could disagree?

However, all this friend group wanted was a little trick or treat. Sprinkle in a few party favors, loud music and a cabin in the woods, the myth was bound to come true.

Lurking around the corner is danger like never before, eager to bring this night to a bloody finish.

So join these friends as they fight to make it through a Hallween they’ll never forget.

Word Count: 3521

Warnings: more murder lmao

Chapter 7 - 3rd POV

Series Masterlist

Feet scraping against the floor, Emery starts a string of stuttering - the fresh words dying on her tongue each time a new thought pops into her mind, as she tries desperately to put as much distance between her and Jason.

Tears filling both eyes, they spill down puffy cheeks while she scrambles up to her feet, shoulders violently trembling as she manages to throw accusation after accusation his way about the gum in question. 

“Really? I got it from a convenience store, you can’t be serious right now.”

“As serious as a heart attack Jason, stop fucking with me.”

Head rising out of the palm of her hands and eyes narrowed into slits, Lynnley feels genuine confusion on why the people around her have found yet another reason to fight with each other; especially considering what just happened.

“I'm sorry, wh- what's the reason now?”

“Uhh, apparently Emery here isn't a big fan of peppermint flavored gum?” Jason questioned.

“Jason you bitch, I fucking dare you to play coy with me again.” Emery screeched. “Lynn he- he- he has that shit flavored gum.”

Realising what Emery is referring to, Lynnley decides to play mediator between the pair, for fear that she’ll get sucked into a screaming match next, both physically and mentally exhausted from the events of the night.

“Em, chill out, it’s probably just a coincidence. For goodness sake, Jason can’t be the only one that buys the damn flavor or else they wouldn’t sell it.”

Walking off to the corner of the room, Jason leaves the argument, preferring to avoid the topic at hand, even if it means clearing his name. 

“Chill out? Lynn, our friends are all dead, how can you say that?”

“Because it’s the only thing keeping me sane right about now,” Lynnley ranted. “After everything I’m to believe that my boyfriend has been slaughtering everyone I love? How sick is that?”

“Just a few hours ago, you were convinced it was Lenny. What are the odds that our friends start dropping like flies the literal moment he steps foot into our lives?”

Hands cradled around her head Lynnley feels a multitude of emotions, the top one being revulsion. Was Jason really capable of doing something this cruel? Physically yes, but what kind of sane person would stoop that low on the moral scale? 

This is the same man that lotioned her entire body down after every shower. This is the same man that tracked her periods so he could have snacks, movies, and hot compresses on standby for when aunt flo paid a visit. This is the same man who insisted on cuddling her to sleep every night, stories about his day a common subject until he heard her light snores; an indication that let him know it was safe for him to rest his eyes. The first time she played asleep was an experiment after confronting him about it, a sly grin creeping up on her face after realising that he’d gladly lose sleep if it meant she could finally meet the sandman. 

So, could it be that Lynnley was so head over heels for the guy that a few tendencies went overlooked? Like his persistence on knowing her every move? Surely he was just protective. Or the fact that he kept his private life so secretive? Maybe he was just a tough cookie to crack.

Fingernails digging into her scalp Lynnley replays every sketchy moment Jason’s ever had, finding any and every excuse to combat it because one thing she could never do is live with herself after inviting this man into the lives of her closest friends and watching the deadly consequences unfold. Hands gripping at the roots of her hair, she doubles down on the fact that Jason is but a law abiding citizen and their sleep deprivation is getting the best of them. In fact he’s been by her side through some of her most challenging moments and not to mention most of the night.

“Most of the night? For fucks sake Lynn, OPEN YOUR EYES BEFORE HE SHUTS THEM FOR YOU.”

“Em, please can we just-”

Cut short in the middle of her sentence, Lynnley struggles to speak through the searing pain coursing through her body. During their heated bickering no one had noticed Jason creep up behind her, his pocket knife lodged deeply in her back. 

Mouth formed into an “O” Emery stood glued to the floor in shock, watching as blood slowly pooled to the front of Lynnley’s shirt. 

“Six centimeters to the left of the spine and eight centimeters down from the shoulder. That’s where I got you sugar,” Jason whispered, licking the shell of her ear. “It stings doesn't it? You see the tip of the knife punctures the lung at such an angle that any breath you do manage to take in is used to supplement your body as opposed to letting out those earth shattering screams, I just know you can make,” he snickered. “Be a doll and stay put for me."

And with that he yanks the knife from her back, none too gently, watching as her body falls limply to the floor. 

Blood splatters from the open wound and oozes from her mouth as Lynnley drags herself away from him, tears rapidly streaming down her face while she lays belly up on the floor - hoping that the hard wood can apply pressure to the wound she can’t reach.

Emery reaches out to Lynnley, vision blurry and body weak as she watches her friend's worst fear come true. Meanwhile Jason has his targets set on his final victim, slowly inching his way toward her. 

For each step he takes forward, she takes two back, mind whirling with thoughts of where she can reasonably stay put for another half hour or so. Her thoughts don't yield much answers and she instead breaks off into a sprint around the living room, foot ready to step into the hallway until a hand lands on her shirt and snatches it back. 

Jason finds this sorry attempt laughable at best, yet pathetic entirely. After all that, does she really think she stands a chance? Against him? No, in fact this little cat and mouse game has gone on long enough and it’s time he put this whole scuffle to rest. 

Hurling Emery on the floor, his pocket knife rests painfully on her throat. Pressed into her neck, the jagged edges prick the soft skin, small drops of blood sliding down to her decolletage just daring her to move any further. 

And move she does, arms flailing and legs thrashing, it isn’t until her palm connects to his face does his fingers replace the knife, curling tightly around Emery’s neck. Jason can't help the twisted smile etched onto his sinful lips, admitting that he likes a woman that fights back. 

Even if Emery doesn’t make it through the night, she’ll be damned if she makes it easy, or at the very least pleasurable for him. So instead, with every fiber of her being, she swallows the retort on the tip of her tongue and plays possum, body completely flaccid in an attempt to ruin whatever sick fantasy he’s conjured up. 

But all it is for Jason is a minor bump in a very satiable road. Though he finds himself on the verge of irritation this isn’t anything he can't get through. After all, he didn't work his way up to staff sergeant just to back down from a little challenge. She may not move for him the way he’d like, but Jason’s confident he can coax a little wiggle from her taut body. Plus, it’s the psychological aspect he enjoys most when it all boils down to it; so mobility or not he’s bound to have a good time. 

“You know, back then when we first met? It was actually supposed to be you that ended up at the rest stop near the border,” Jason admits, smearing the blood stained steel on her shirt. “That night when you pulled into the parking lot, things felt too damn easy. Here comes this woman, in the pouring rain, pulling into this desolate place just to use the bathroom. It almost felt like a gift. 

Emery feels rage like none other. There's several things she has to physically hold herself back from and one of them is punching him right in his stupid face. At least if she goes out, she can do so with a bang; literally. But she has to keep her calm and play the long game. Even if it means revisiting the night that's cost her countless hours of sleep. 

Never did she think she’d come face to face with the man behind her night terrors, at least outside of a courtroom that is. But all this means is that she has to do whatever it takes for the homies lost along the way. She just has to play it cool long enough to survive the night because if it’s one thing she’s determined to do is get through this. 

Tucking his knife back into the pocket Jason continues his flashback, reminding her of that fateful night leading up to this very moment. In the grand scheme of things, it worked out much better than he could’ve ever imagined getting five for the price of one. And what a grand finale it’s turned out to be. 

“What stopped you from picking me that night?” Emery croaked.

Tongue tracing over his bottom lip, Jason seemed deep in thought before admitting that he wasn’t so sure exactly what spared her from such a fate. Bending down so his lips meet her ear, Jason goes on to recall step by step the events that took place leading up to the seventh victim and what a vivid picture he painted. So close yet so far away, their shoulders centimeters apart in the lot, symbolizing the literal inch in which her life was saved. 

Deeply inhaling, a twisted smirk finds its way onto his mouth, a heavy dose of nostalgia transporting him back to that very moment in the lot - her vanilla scented shampoo just as potent in his nostrils as it was in the rain.

Try as she might to widen her lids and roll her eyes back, the pool of tears that's gathered threatens to spill with the inevitable blink to follow. The fluttering of her lashes doesn’t help much and instead encourages the free flow of tears that slides down her cheeks. Heavy breathing from his weight or this moment she may never know, follows suit; wishing the earth could consume her entirely, all that talk about surviving the night tossed out the window. Why did she ever think she was strong enough to see this through? Why couldn’t he just make it quick? Instead he mocks her and sears her skin with his icky touch. 

“Shhh,” Jason coos. “We’re not even at the good part yet. Cause really I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Hands balled tightly together, Emery settles for turning her head to the side, the wall suddenly a lot more interesting than it was a mere few minutes ago. 

“You were the first time I’ve ever hesitated. And for obvious reasons I couldn’t just let you leave, but more so I wanted to see what it was about you that had me stopping in my tracks,” he explained, fingers tucking her hair behind the ear.

That night after brushing past one another, it was truly miraculous that he was able to clock your license plate given the circumstances, but by all means he did and wasted no time using his resources to track you down. What was supposed to be a one and done, something along the lines of an accident, turned into the prospect of a five for one special. And who could turn down such a possibility?! After a few weeks trailing her, he was able to find a way to end it all, but more importantly Jason was able to find his in - through none other than Lynnley. She was so desperate for love it was amusing, though it did allow him to brush up on his social skills if you will. That ‘relationship’ really brought his other talents to the forefront.

Just a little while longer, Emery thought. Who knew the prick was such a talker? But it just might work in her favor after all. If Julianna could survive drowning and Stephanie could survive a knife to the throat, the very least Emery can survive is this motormouth prick, gloating in all his murderous glory. In fact, a jail cell is too good for him, and if all goes well, it’ll be his organs at the end of a very pointy knife. 

“Can you believe it Em? Not only am I able to adapt to the personality traits of a loving boyfriend, but I was even able to get you all to join in.”

Did he just? Too stunned to speak, let alone think Emery couldn’t believe that he hadn’t a crumb of decency left in him. To brag about the literal deaths of her friends? Suddenly it was becoming too much. 

“Shut up!”

“I mean, I’m a pretty hands on guy, but to watch myself thrive in the psychological side of things was something else entirely. For sure I thought I would’ve been figured out after the whole Steph situation. But then this amazing thing happened-”

“SHUT UP!”

“Did I mention this is a new record for me? I tend to take care of things one at a time but phew, what a night am I right?”

“Jason you are literally SICK,” she cried. “What went so fucking wrong in your life?”

“Do you want the long version or the short version? It doesn’t matter though because you’re definitely someone I’ll carry with me for years to come. I mean look at this gotdamn scene? And as luck would have it, we meet again and I get to save the very best for last.”

Emery wretches, but all that comes up is a gust of air - the liquor from the night long gone from her bloodstream and her stomach. All she can manage is a dry heave as Jason condescendingly pats her head in comfort.

Raising up to shift his body weight to his knees, Jason goes on to undo the buckle of his belt, Emerys breathing now dramatically increasing in speed. Frazzled, she starts kicking once more, this time a loud cry managing to tear its way past her throat. 

Fingers clamped around her jaw, Jason squeezes it to discomfort and spits inside, mentioning how her mouth can be put to better use. 

“And please, don't flatter yourself Em, you’re not my type. I just prefer you of all people quiet. Go ahead and give it a swish,” he taunted.

With the belt free from his pants, Jason places it around her neck, quicker than she can stop it and loops it through the buckle with minimal effort. He goes on to admit to actually wanting to keep her alive to deal with the aftermath of everything, for the simple fact that it’s the mental aspect of things he’s grown to enjoy most. But he couldn’t possibly risk her identifying him to the police.

Horrified, Emery realises the gravity of her situation and notices that any major movement could actually work against her in terms of squeezing the leather around her neck. Fingernails scraping deep into his flesh, she tries to grab at his hands before they can grip onto the belt and they both push against one another, her strength oddly satisfying to him. 

This is someone who should be worn out, but it’s interesting what fear can make you do - another reason he’s found himself so infatuated with the group and the unexpected turn of events throughout the night.

Jason finally manages to wrestle her to the ground, cooing words of affirmation for the good fight she’s fought and grapples with the belt until he has it firmly placed in his hands. Pulling at the end, he wraps it around his knuckles and tugs it back as far as his body will allow. 

All of Emery’s focus now lies on the belt and try as she might, it just won't budge. She manages to slip her thumb between her neck and the strap, but it does very little compared to the strength of the man atop her. Heels buried into the floor, she tries scooting backward in an attempt to throw Jason off her though all she manages is shoe scratches embedded along the floor boards. Veins popping from her neck and teeth bared, Emery musters up the last bit of strength she has, a hoarse scream on the tip of her tongue as black dots dance around her vision. 

Wrapping the belt once more around his hand, Emery surprises Jason at every turn at the fight she’s put up. This night is definitely one for the books and a pilot to what his future skillset can conjure up. If he ever gets caught, he’ll be sure to credit her with this new inspiration of his and that way her name, too, will live on in the tales of time. Her efforts eventually subside, head sluggishly shaking from side to side, and he holds his position for a few minutes longer to make sure the deed is done. 

Tiredly huffing out a breath of air, Jason stands to his full height and fixes his clothes. Walking over to Lynnley, he crouches down and thanks her for the part she played in it all, acknowledging that none of this would've been possible without her. 

“I sincerely hope that you were able to enjoy the final show sugar,” he winked, bending down to place a final kiss to her lips. “If it brings you any type of solace, you were my favorite.”

Lynnley croaks out one last gurgled moan, no doubt a slew of curse words. A tear escapes her right eye, all her energy thwarted from the serious wound and Jason takes the time to brush her lids closed. 

Tires crinkling over the leaves on the ground breaks him out of his daze. Shuffling to the window, he sees what only could be Lorenzo’s parents pulling up. Digging his hands through his pockets, he pulls out the house keys and heads over to the back door

Unlocking the deadbolt, Jason slips through and jogs up as far away from the house as he can, stopping once he gets a good enough distance away to still be within earshot of the scene to unfold. That's the good thing about places this far out. Wide open spaces act as an echo, sounds rippling off one another until they fade into the distance. And even though he is a sizable distance away from the house, he reminds himself to be careful as the echo in question works both ways. But boy what he wouldn’t give to see the look on the parents faces at his parting gift. He’ll just have to do without for now as he’ll see it on the news station soon enough.

Peering behind a tree, Jason waits, watches, and listens for what comes next. How insanely cool would it be to pull this off again? The same family line, the same trauma, the same ending? It’s almost too good to be true. Hands slithering down to his pants, he has to adjust his bulge at the thought, leg shaking loose his oncoming boner.

But is it wise though? To hit the same place twice? No, that's how people get caught, they get too cocky. The only reason he’s been as successful as he has is because there are no connections. Different states, different people, different races, different traits - it’s how he keeps em guessing. And this? Five at a time? It's not his MO. He could roughly get away with something like this for months to come, authorities quick to profile someone else entirely.

He could never take full credit for it though. In all fairness, the other players of the game helped create the art scene in the same way the person who brought paint to Michaelangelo helped create the sistine chapel. And while he could never pair up to Michaelangelo, he did consider himself an artist. Did his work push boundaries? Of course it did. What great artist hasn’t? And while he didn't work much with paint or photography, he did prefer himself a realist of sorts, his works imitating that of ordinary people in ordinary surroundings. He may not have been Jean-François Millet, but his style will be talked about for centuries to come. 

The scream that echoes through the air has Jason smiling wide, trudging further toward the main road at a mission well done. The breeze is light and the sun is warm as it beams down on the earth, his next quest fresh on his mind. 

After all, lightning doesn’t strike the same place twice, or does it?

A/N: Wowww!! This is a story thats been brewing for a little over a year now. I never expected myself to get so gory while writing and in the beginning it was super tough emotionally. Overall, my growth is insaneee and Im in mf awe of how this turned out :) Im finally at a place where I can, for the most part, jot my thoughts accurately on "paper"!!! This journey was fun and tiresome, and Im excited to see where my muse takes me next.

[starryeyedjanai]

Janai!!! Pen pal au for WIP weekend pleeaaseee <3 - Joey

@matchingbatbites and @eriquin

hi friends!!! it is no longer the weekend, but here we are! I'm 40k+ words into this fic and i'm realizing anything i write will kind of spoil where this fic is going, sooooo here is a snippet of the beginning!

--

Steve is trying so hard not to roll his eyes, but it’s getting increasingly difficult to do as his English teacher explains the project that’s going to end up being 40% of his grade at the end of the year. 

A goddamn pen pal program.

His teacher is so excited about it too, and that makes it even harder not to roll his eyes. 

This pen pal thing is a sure-fire way to get the teenagers who don't typically have lots of time to write long papers (the musical theater kids, the marching band nerds, the jocks, the freaky dance recital girls who can fit their legs behind their heads) to hone in on their writing skills, or so she says. 

He was suspicious when he started his senior year with most of the senior guys on his basketball team in his English class and he was so right to think it was weird because they're trying to run an experiment on them. 

How can the teachers of Hawkins high get their jocks more involved and more enthusiastic about school? Let's stick them with a year long writing assignment. What could possibly go wrong?

Steve can feel the insubordinate urge to just not even pick up his assignment on the way out the door, but he really can't afford to fail this class. He barely passed all of his classes last year and he has to keep his GPA at a C average to stay on the varsity basketball team this year. He thinks he can deal with writing to some nerd from another school for a few months.

He doesn't look at the assignment until a couple weeks later when Miss Chandler reminds them that she'll be conferring with the English teacher from the other school to make sure everyone in the class received their first letters soon.

He pulls the crumpled folder the assignment came in from his backpack and opens it. There's a grainy picture of the marching band attached and he's guessing his pen pal is somewhere in that picture. Great.

There's a sheet that explains the project. Even the rubric makes Steve roll his eyes.

This project is worth 40% of your grade... You must submit your first letter no later than Monday, October 28... All subsequent letters should be submitted on the 1st and 3rd Monday of each month. Letters from the sister school should arrive by the following Friday. At the end of the year, you must have sent at least 10 letters to your pen pal... 

Yada, yada, yada.

Behind that sheet is a letter introducing his pen pal.

Eddie Munson. 

There's a list of topic starters that Eddie filled in so that Steve has something to put in his first letter.

I am (age) 18 years old. I am a member of the marching band. I live in Indianapolis. In my spare time, I like to play D&D! I'm the dungeon master for the school club. I like music! Ask me anything about music and I'll write you a novel.

There's an identical sheet that Steve's supposed to fill out and send back with his first letter.

He has no idea what to write for this first letter since he knows basically nothing about him. He knows he does D&D like the kids he babysits for, which is something to go off of at least. Maybe he can get Dustin to write something nerdy that Eddie will understand.

He does actually end up talking to Dustin about the assignment and he tells him a line to put in the letter that Eddie will understand, but it flies right over Steve's head.

-

October 28, 1984

Hi Eddie! 

I'm Steve Harrington. 

You can probably read this on my character sheet (ha, D&D reference!!), but I'm on the basketball team. Do you think they paired everyone this way on purpose? I definitely have more in common with the other jocks at your school than you, but everyone I've talked to in my class is paired with someone from a different activity. 

Your info sheet mentions that you like music. Tell me more. Who's your favorite artist? Who do you listen to when you've had a bad day? What song is on every mixtape you give a girl? 

I guess we're in this for the long haul, so we have plenty of time to get to know more about each other this year. I honestly can't think of any interesting questions to ask you right now so I'll leave that up to you. Aren't dungeon masters supposed to be able to improvise well? 

Signing off, Steve Harrington

--

@legitcookie- you mentioned you were interested in this fic so i'm tagging youuuuuu too!

[riahlynn101]

Dad December - Day Twelve: "Hero & Villain."

Summary: Part two of “Prison Visit.”

Trigger warnings: Mentions of the aftermaths of war, and a character (almost) getting sick.

word count: 1,904

--

It’s like the setup of a bad joke. A hero and a villain walk into a room, and the villain turns to the hero and says…

“Scared?”

“No, I’ve had my blood drawn enough times.” Izuku crosses his arms, staring stubbornly at the wall ahead. An exasperated nurse, yanks one of his arms down. She ties a band around it, cutting off his blood supply. 

He grimaces. This is always his least favorite part. 

All for One clicks his tongue. “Ah, but that’s not what I’m referring to, and you know it.”

The needle slides in once, twice, three times before the nurse finds an acceptable vein. She hums to herself, filling a little vial with blood. He hates how casual everyone is about this blood test. The nurse. The guards. All of them. 

“I know exactly what you’re referring to, and I’m honestly shocked that they let you be here for this.” Shouldn’t there be a procedure for this? Allowing the most dangerous criminal in a room with his maybe-maybe not long-lost son (who is also the one person he’s seeking to destroy above all others) can’t be the best option. 

But if they already did it once, and nothing happened, why not try it again?

“Why wouldn’t I be? I’m your-”

Izuku cuts him off, waving his one free hand around frantically. “Nuh, uh! No, you aren’t. The test isn’t done yet, so you can’t call yourself that .”

Again, All for One laughs. “I would be more shocked if you weren’t my son.”

Right at that moment, whether by the blood draw, a lack of airflow in the room, or those downright nauseating words, Izuku throws up a little in his mouth. He forces it down. 

Thankfully, the blood draw is over relatively quickly. And no sooner than the needle is removed, Izuku is escorted out of the prison. The guard that leads him back to the lobby where All Might’s waiting nervously, tells Izuku that they’ll call him when the results come in. 

“How was it?” All Might asks, hovering over his shoulder. His mentor is restless, fidgeting as he questions Izuku. 

“Fine,” he answers, shrugging on his jacket. All Might offered to hold it while he got his blood drawn. He looks up at his mentor. “He’s very smug. I wanted to punch him.”

All Might laughs, ruffling his hair. They stand in front of the security checkpoint (one of three). “He is,” he confirms, before his face gets oddly serious. A guard orders them into position, scanning their persons for weapons of any kind. Once the scan is complete, they’re allowed to move along. 

Izuku starts to move towards security checkpoint two of three, but All Might grabs his arm. He looks at him. “What?”

“He’s also dangerous. And highly unpredictable.”

Izuku laughs. More out of a need to lighten the situation and less because he thinks it’s funny that not listening to the vestiges is having real world consequences. (His ears are still ringing from the scolding he got from First, Second, and Seventh).

“I’m serious, Young Midoriya. He will stop at nothing to get what he wants.”

I wouldn’t dream of anything more….

Izuku suddenly feels dizzy. Not wanting to admit that he’s in over his head, he gives a curt nod. “I know.” 

-x-x-x-

The rest of the week flies by. U.A, while not quite as bad as the rest of Musutafu, is deemed unsafe to hold classes. Not that there’s anyone to teach them (Mr. Aizawa, Present Mic, a few other teachers, and most of the hero classes are recovering in the hospital. While the general education teachers have either fled the country before the war broke out, or are trying to piece their lives back together)...or learn for that matter. 

Instead, he spends most of his days helping to recover casualties from the attacks and offering aid where it’s needed. All Might accompanies him, making sure Izuku eats, sleeps, and takes care of himself. 

The vestiges, as well, like to mother-hen him. Particularly The First, who will try his best to comb Izuku’s hair with his fingers (“just like his,” he murmurs, face scrunched up in concentration. Izuku pretends not to hear him.) Although, The Second is vying to take that spot. 

Izuku’s busy schedule rarely allows freetime, but when he gets some, it’s split between visiting those recovering in the hospital, his mom, and going to see Tenko Shimura (who’s currently being held in a long term care home). 

Every Thursday, like clockwork, All Might drives him all the way out of the city. To a place that’s made of rolling hills and lush forests, and virtually untouched by all the destruction wrought by the war. Izuku has no idea what the hospital's called, or what prefecture they’re in. 

It’s peaceful, and the perfect place for Tenko to recover. 

All Might waits in the lobby while he visits - not ready to face his master’s grandson. 

The nurse that guides him through the hallways tells Izuku about how far Tenko has come in only the last few weeks. She sounds proud, and it makes him happy that despite his reputation, the people taking care of Tenko don’t resent him. 

Tenko is coloring when he gets to his room. The room is decent - with a bed, a desk, and a small old-fashion TV that plays approved (read: no extreme violence, current events, or anything that could be too triggering for Tenko’s recovery) shows and movies. 

 “Knock, knock.” Izuku smiles, standing in the doorway. 

A smile breaks across his face. Tenko puts his crayon down and looks up. “Hey, Hero Brat! You’re half an hour late.”

Izuku blanches.  He waves his hands around. “Ah…sorry. I had to help ration out food, and there was this family-”

Tenko snickers. “You’re so fun to mess with.” He turns back to coloring. “You can sit down if you want. I have a lot to tell you.”

The next hour is filled with Tenko recapping his entire week. He occasionally sounds angry and confused, which Izuku understands on a basic level (but feels a part of himself panic whenever Tenko’s voice starts taking on that villainous tone.)

“So, that’s my life. How about you? I guess things aren’t the best out there, are they?”

Izuku hums, considering his next words. “They could be better.”

“And…?”

“And…what?”

Tenko sighs, swiveling dramatically in his seat to look at him. “That’s all? I’ve been stuck in this facility for weeks now, and I managed to talk your ear off for a solid hour. C’mon I know you have a lot more going on than me.”

“Well…” Izuku thinks of digging through the wreckage to find remains; of trying to comfort screaming babies; of telling a pregnant mother that they have no more food to give her or her children; of no sleep; of nightmares; of the ever-present guilt of not doing more.

He smiles, pushing that out his mind. “I went to Tartarus.” The words fly out of his mouth before he can comprehend what he’s saying. 

“Why?” 

Izuku fidgets with his fingers, looking down. 

“Izuku?”

He looks up.

“Why?” Tenko says again, slower. 

“I had to talk to somebody.” Izuku mentally berates himself for bringing up Tartarus, at least Tenko has no idea that the visit was to see-

Tenko’s door opens, a nurse pops her head in. “Midoriya?”

Izuku breaks eye contact with Tenko, though the other boy continues to stare daggers into the side of his face. “Yes?”

“Yagi says it's time to go. Something about test results.”

He nods, and the nurse ducks back out into the hallway. 

“I…have to go now.” Izuku pulls on his jacket. “But I promise I’ll explain more next week.”

Tenko scoffs. “Whatever.”

This isn’t how he wanted their visit to go. “Bye, Tenko.” 

“You better not be talking to who I think you’re talking to.”

Izuku is halfway out the door, but he pauses for a second. “I’ll see you next week. I promise not to be late again.” Without waiting for Tenko’s response, Izuku hurries from the room and down the hall. 

No longer with Tenko as a distraction, he worries about the test results. He talked a big game to All for One, but what if the man was right? What if he is really, truly Izuku’s-

No, he can’t be. 

The car ride to Tartarus is long and filled with awkward silence. All Might puts on Christmas music at one point (the only CD in the rental car) even though it’s still July. 

Izuku is led into the same examination room as the week prior. This time All for One isn’t in attendance, which he thanks his lucky stars for. A nurse stands in front of him (not the same as last time but equally as mean-looking). She hands him an envelope.

Just as he’s about to pull the paper out, the door swings open. And in steps-

“What’s he doing here?”

“He has requested to be here, and since the higher-ups can see no reason not to…”

Izuku feels offended that his right to privacy isn’t enough reason to keep the villain of villains away from him. “Well, I don’t want him here.”

“Too bad,” the nurse says, shrugging her shoulders. “I don’t get paid enough for this. Open the envelope and move along.”

He pouts, and tries his best to ignore All for One’s cooing when he does so. Can the man get anymore insufferable? Wait, no, Izuku doesn’t want to know the answer to that. 

He glances down at the envelope. Better get this over with…

Why couldn’t they send this in an email, or call him? It has to be easier than-

His eyes read the words written across the page. His mouth hangs open, and he has to fight the urge to cry. 

“What’s it say?”

Izuku smiles. “I’m not your son!” Relief floods his entire body. All this worrying for nothing. He can’t wait to tell All Might that All for One is not his dad. 

All for One frowns. “I was so sure that-”

A knock interrupts Izuku’s internal celebration. The nurse answers the door. “Hello?”

An exasperated doctor passes the nurse another envelope. “We messed up. DNA tests got mixed up. The names on the sheet are wrong. That should be the right one.”

Izuku looks down at the paper in his hands. And, just like the doctor said, neither his or All for One’s names are on it. 

He’s made to open a second DNA test. This time when he opens it, Izuku makes sure to check that the names are correct. 

“No,” he says. “Absolutely not.”

“Why? What does it say?” All for One asks. 

Izuku is filled with so much rage he can’t even get the words out. Eventually the nurse takes the paper from him. She smirks. “You are his father.”

Hearing it outloud feels so much worse than reading it. He wants to cry. He wants his mom. He wants First to hug him (his hugs are always so warm). He wants to be anywhere but here. 

All for One closes the gap between them, hugging him. “I’m so happy. So, so happy.” His arms wrap around Izuku like vices, and not for the first time he wonders who let the resident supervillain free from shackles. “Things are going to be so much better now. You’ll see.”

Izuku disagrees.

[asknarashikari]

Someone calls Azuma “buffy”

Lmao, the reference just totally flies over everyone's heads XD Maybe Win would get it but he'd just crack a joke about Azuma being more like the things that Buffy would kill lol

[bmacreadz]

"Love on the Brain" by Ali Hazelwood

Hazelwood definitely has a style, and I LOVE IT. It's quirky, funny, and brilliant, but also down-to-earth and relatable. I loved "The Love Hypothesis," which is exactly why I also love "Love on the Brain."

"Love on the Brain" follows Bee as she undertakes a new career-advancement project with NASA. Unfortunately (or maybe, fortunately) this new project has her working alongside her archenemy from grad school, the broodingly handsome and disturbingly unapproachable Levi Ward. As they work together, truths come to light and Bee becomes increasingly naïve over the things that are right in front of her (as Hazelwood's characters have a tendency of being). But in Bee's defense, Levi was extremely standoffish and pretty hostile towards her for several years for no real reason. Regardless, the chemistry between these two characters made me feel a lot of the things I want to feel when I'm reading a romance and I enjoyed every second of this story.

A little bit about Bee: She has a twin sister who she is rarely able to see; she's orphaned and has been on her own for many years now; she's experienced the type of betrayal that's made her swear off any type of long-term attachments; and she's obsessed with Marie Curie.

A little bit about Levi: He has been secretly in love with the same woman for years but no one, including this woman, knows anything about it because those feelings were well-hidden behind instances of some severely misplaced assholery.

If you've read "The Love Hypothesis," then you might be familiar with the theme here. But I personally don't think there's anything very wrong with writing similar stories. Sure, you want to change it up, and Hazelwood did in every way that mattered. The story is just similar enough that it gives the reader all the things they love about her romance writing-style, but she is also writing a completely different story. (If you're sensing that I'm a little defensive about this, it's because I've seen reviewers ripping Hazelwood's work apart because "The Love Hypothesis" and "Love on the Brain" are so similar.) But that's why we love authors, right? Because of the types of stories they right? I love Hazelwood's storytelling. And when I want to read something like "The Love Hypothesis" and feel all the things Hazelwood makes me feel when reading, without actually re-reading "The Love Hypothesis" for the sixth time, then "Love on the Brain" is the perfect book for me. It's cheesy and romantic and just plain good.

Reading Hazelwood is like reading a rom-com and I LOVE A ROM-COM. I love her characters, her style, her intense genius that flies off the page. So many references go over my head because I am not involved in the science field, but that's also partly why I love it so much. It transports me to this whole other world that I know almost nothing about, but I feel like I belong there anyway.

I'll read "Love on the Brain" over and over because there's something I just love about it. And I will definitely be reading her new book "Love, Theoretically" when it comes out this fall.

Maybe this book isn't for everyone and that's okay. I get it. It is cheesy and weird and so, so obvious. But that's exactly why I love it. So, if you're like me and you liked "The Love Hypothesis" enough to read it several times, then yes, read this book. Immediately.

[kuromi-hoemie]

For anyone who's curious about what my little Elden Ring spell wishlist for when I'm making mods looks like so far, here are my ideas.

I'm also just posting this so I have a visual reference that I can look at and think about because I previously just had a small notebook paper with some rushed bullet points on it.

The way each note here is formatted is:

[ the base spell I'm using followed by a screenshot ]

[ the effects and projectiles of other spells I want to borrow followed by their screenshots ]

1. Founding rain of stars that spawns over an enemy

and the modded versions a. ) rain lava that drips and spreads over the target b. ) rains canon of haima fully charged shots and blows everything and everyone to hell with a very wide area of effect

Desired Effects: magma shot, cannon of haima

2. some sword type of move like the Black Blade or Adula's Moonblade

that a. ) creates a wave similar to the Lansseax's Glaive except it's a wave of thorns, or maybe sends out like 7 lines of thorns that home in on ur target wrecking everything in their path b. ) projects a wave of bloodboon and fires one or a few fast moving Swarm of Flies. might also want this to send out the wave of thorns and for sure want it to inflict the health drain effect that Black Blade does

Desired effects: Lansseax Glaive style wave with Briars of Punishment instead, Bloodboon and Swarm of Flies

3. Ambush shard (the one that appears behind an enemy) that

a. ) releases night maiden mist, possibly mixed with hemorrhage damage b. ) casts Zamor Ice Storm at the enemy's location but with a wider area of effect

Desired Effects: Night Miaden's Mist, possibly mixed with hemorrhage, Zamor Ice Storm

4. Homed Blot

except a. ) it launches 2-4 strikes of Fortissax's Lightning Spears down on your target

Desired Effect: Impact spread from Fortissax's Lightning Spears, make bolt red.

5. [DONE] Ancient Death Rancor

except a. ) maybe double or .5 times more heads get spawned and on impact they all do Explosive Ghostflame

Desired Effect: Explosive Ghostflame

Demo:

and them's the spells i have so far :3 i already have a few base spells that I've tweaked and it's already So much more entertaining. Some of the spells too were previously like... it's cool but too slow or would be nicer as a homing spell and I'm glad that it's at least easier to make it so More of that spell get cast at once (like how there are i think 5 or 7 strikes that come out for Beast Claw) and to make them move faster or home in on enemies.

As i make these spells I'll add a gif of them being used here ^~^ might also add some of my existing modded spells after work.

[adventurous-adventures]

January 5 2024

First session of the new year! Let's get into it!

We spent ages just going through out-of-context quotes we had collected from various places.

"SUCK SUCK SUCK SUCK" Mick dying from the sucking. "Maybe not do that to the person who spilt their drink last year.

River Lea and Raven dump Orc corpses at the butcher: "Wait… what is this guys race?" "Oh god, he's not an orc right?"

Did we mention they are naked? The human butcher is hauling naked Orcs to the back of his freezer.

Oop! An opportunity to get more Australi- I mean Orc Meat.

DM.exe is not responding.

Town Master is pretending not to be home to deal with us.

Juniper threatened to break in and enter through the broken window (courtesy of Cryovain)

Yeah the town master hates us now. (I am not surprised)

Bill Neigh the Cowboy Guy!

"Georgie, stop breaking the DM!" I'm on notes today… 👋Hi! Also, I'm making little quips

We now can't stop laughing at saying we're selling Orc meat.

Mr. Wester is a fucking pussy making us do shit while he hides in his broken house.

(Pussy autocorrected to Pussy-cat and I don't know what's funnier)

Bill and his horse having a Flynn Rider and Maximus 'when he looks at me and I look at him' moment.

Bill and Town Master have similar accents.

Looks like the Orcs are Arsonist but in a Minecraft sense.

River Lea is banned from her dead ex's bakery for obvious reasons.

"Firecunt"… can we say cunt on here because we're kiwi? (Lara here, I say yeah. Our blog, we can do what we want)

they exit with a basket full of bread (of different shapes) and a cheese wheel the size of Juniper.

"What's that jerky made out of?" "Beef" "Are you sure about that?"

The butcher is traumatised so much that the DM forgot Juniper and Iphigenia did not come in with that Orc meat.

Debating who will mount what creature together. Enter Alistair with a shipping chart. Dewdrop & Alistair are plotting.

*insert shipping chart here*

Going back to the Farmer's house.

"Say boyfriend! Say boys! Say boyfriend!" Zain, 2024 in relation to getting the DM to refer to Raven in his dialogue to his child.

Juniper is canonically unhinged (slay). She may be a cleric but she will say unhinge shit to get a rise out of each other.

During our second long rest: "Do you want me to roll perception again?" "Ummm." *rolls dice* "Yes." "I don't like those sounds"

A long rest later: BOOM white cow.

"You notice some bodies on the ground" Everyone chants 'let the bodies hit the floor'.

"Oh look! Orc meat." "They are swarming with flies." "… We're not touching those!"

Australian Orcs have returned.

Zain mispronounced Satyr to Satire.

We bonded with the Orcs over Racism. For once violence wasn't the answer.

Iphigenia is going to pull the dead sister card to get the Town Master to agree to get the folks of Phandalin to help rebuild the ghost town for the orcs

In the tune of Do You Wanna Build a Snowman: 🎶Dewdrop, do you wanna fuck an Orc?🎶

Is Alistair a Furry?

Bonus:

Here is Juniper vs the image the DM had in his head when Juniper and Iphigenia returned with bread and cheese

[mercurygguk]

winter soldier | jjk

genre; winter soldier/avengers au, angst/smut/fluff

pairing; winter soldier!jungkook x avenger!female reader

summary; the love of your life died during ww2, they honored his death. you had never imagined you’d ever see him again until you’d join him in death, but here he is and he’s trying to kill you. he’s not himself at all. you, however, insist that the man you used to know is still in there somewhere.

word count; 6,764

warnings; descriptions of war/battle/fight scenes, descriptions of scars, the rest of the avengers joins the party, reader is like Cap A but not like Cap A, you know??, jungkook looking hella hot with his long hair and steel arm, inspiration from ‘captain america: winter soldier’, swearing, SMUT; explicit sexual activities, oral (f. receiving), love making at its highest- nothing kinky, just plain ol’ sex

a/n; okay so um, i’m binge-watching the avengers movies atm and i was watching Captain America: Winter Soldier. i kid you not, throughout the entire movie i was imagining what jungkook would look like as the winter soldier- jungkook combined with superheroes is like the perfect story, amirite?? ;)) enjoy!

ps. once again, i didn’t proof read so ignore my possible mistakes lol

(for reference, this is what jungkook’s hair looks like in this fic)

War.

Terrorizing. Horrifying. Absolutely petrifying.

There are several words to use when talking about it, describing it, reliving it. Once you’ve experienced it, it will haunt you till the day you die and even beyond that. There isn’t much positive to take from it, not many positive memories come to you as you think back to the time during war. Only one positive memory returns to you from those dark times...

Him.

Him who did not fit in with the military services due to his lack of strength and speed. Him who never let anyone step upon him and evolved with the job. Him who never backed down from a challenge or an order given from the highest ranks. Him who had braveness unlike anyone, loyalty like no other, a will to fight for what’s worth it and to win. Him who made you fall for him without meaning to. Him who promised he would always come back to you, no matter what happened.

And then one day he didn’t. They had told you he went down in the fight, died for his country, for his team. He hadn’t hesitated to sacrifice himself, thrown himself towards the threat in the hopes of ending it for everyone once and for all. That he did. He killed himself in the process of saving everyone else.

A hero is what they had called him. Honored his name, saluting as they all stood facing his military photograph, serious faces and emotionless eyes all over. Tears had filled your eyes that day, but they didn't fall. You refused to let them. There was no way you would cry because of a liar. A coward, really. Anger kept you going, anger aimed at him. A rage so intense that you would convince yourself that you hated him. Some people would call you selfish, selfish for hating a man who sacrificed himself for everyone else. They were right. You were selfish. But love makes you selfish, and you loved him. So ridiculously much.

Years later, decades into the new century he remains as a positive yet heartbreaking and frustrating memory in your mind and heart. You haven’t aged a day thanks to the advanced technology and the project you offered to be the experiment of, in the end of the war. After his death and the war seeming more out of control than ever, you thought there wasn’t much more to live for, so you volunteered. A successful masterpiece, professor Kim had said as you regained consciousness on the lab table. You were his greatest, most succeeded experiment. You still are, except for the fact that Kim Namjoon is no longer walking among people on earth.

Now you’re living as the successful masterpiece he has created. Stronger, faster – young too even though your real age is something near 98. It doesn’t show. You look like any other 23-year-old but with extraordinary strength and speed. Being a part of a team as the Avengers truly has given you a meaning of life, a purpose that you didn’t feel you had before joining this outstanding team of superheroes as some would call you.

But as you stand here, in the middle of a battlefield that is scarily similar to those back in the 1940’s, you feel small. Gunshots fire around you, flying past your head and ringing in your ears. Explosions going off from the shots fired by Stark, Iron Man as he’s known as. The grounds breaking from the power of Thor’s hammer, the bad guys falling like flies in the hands of Widow. You’re watching it all unfold, breathing for a split second as robots are charging at you with red, glowing eyes.

For God’s sake, just how many of these are there?

Keeping yourself from rolling your eyes in pure annoyance, you set off running towards them with an unmatched speed, fists up and ready to take them out. One goes down after another, surrendering to your very angry, very powerful fists. Your patience is running thin as the robots keep appearing from left and right, setting their focus on you as demanded by whoever’s controlling them. A person you haven’t managed to find yet, but determined to hunt down and put a bullet through their head.

“Hey, Thor!” You call out to the nordic God flying around you, punching fists through robots and throwing his hammer at them. He glances your way, finding you surrounded by robots, too many for you to fight by yourself. “A lil hand here?”

He nods in response, immediately dropping to the ground and plunging his hammer into the asphalt on the ground, lightning seeping through the ground and into the robots, taking them down and splitting them in half. Thor throws a smug smirk at you before turning back around to fight another round of robots. You roll your eyes, about to run off when shots are being fired at you.

“Shit!” You hiss, running to hide behind a tipped-over truck while fishing out a gun from the strap around your thigh. You lean out, aiming in the direction of the shots. There is a man with long, dark hair, a black mask covering half his face and a silver arm that does not look familiar at all. The mysterious man steps onto the railing of the bridge he fired shots from, hard glare focused on you as he steps out and lets himself fall to the ground beneath the bridge. He lands on his feet, supporting himself with the silver fist into the asphalt. He stands to his height, walking straight towards you and leaving a mark in the asphalt where he had landed. Your eyes widen as he holds up a machine gun, opening fire at you as you scramble to run off while loading more shots into your gun.

Peeking around the corner of the brick building you’re hiding behind, you hold your gun up to aim at him. You fire a bullet, hitting his silver arm. He doesn’t budge, the bullet not even leaving a bump in the silver.

“What the-” you gape, firing shots again. He holds his silver hand up, the bullets bouncing off like they’re made of cotton, still walking towards you with eyes focused on you. There’s something about him that seems familiar – maybe his build? Or the way he walks? Or was it the slightly curly hair on top of his head? You can’t quite pin it as you watch him get closer, fists clenched tightly at his sides as if he’s ready to throw punches at you. You contemplate running to him, throwing the first punch at him before he gets to you. There is a slight hesitancy in your body as you can’t shake off how awfully familiar he seems the closer he gets to you. Knowing what the right thing to do is, you step out from your hiding spot, collecting all strength as you charge at him. A yell of anger and confusion rumbles from your chest as you jump on the last step, fist pulled back only for it to be forced forward and into the center of the mysterious man’s chest.

He stumbles back slightly, gaining his balance quickly before he steps closer, throwing a punch at you as well. You dodge, throwing your leg into his side in a strong kick. He grunts as he catches your leg, pulling on it to force you towards him. You ram into him, his clenched fist connecting with your jaw. You groan in pain as you fall to the ground, landing before his feet. Squinting at him, you watch as he kneels down over you, holding you down against the ground. As he stares at you, raising his hand to deliver a punch to your face again, you realize it as your eyes meet his. You gasp softly, not believing the sight in front of you. It’s a known fact that you would recognize those deep, brown eyes anywhere in any given moment.

“J-Jungkook?”

The sound of your voice, the sound of his name falling from your lips has him freezing for a split second. His eyes shift between yours as he slowly begins to sink his fist. But not even seconds later he’s raising his fist again and that’s when you can tell that he does not recognize you. He is looking at you as if you’re a complete stranger, like he didn’t spend the last year of his life telling you that he loved you more than life itself.

His gaze fills with the only feeling he feels, hatred. He moves to force his silver fist down and into your face, a face he used to call beautiful as he traced his finger tips along the edges. You barely dodge it, trying your very best to meet his eyes again as you call his name.

“Jungkook!” You fight the tears that are brimming your eyes as you continue to dodge his hits the best you can, “Hey! It’s me!”

He’s not holding off, continuing to throw punches at you and hitting the asphalt as you squirm in between his thighs. He’s impeccably strong, the asphalt cracking under the jabs of his fists. His thighs are keeping you in place as he pins you to the ground, your arms locked along your sides. You know he’ll punch you to death if you don’t get inside his head. It seems nearly impossible as his eyes are trained on you, emotionless and angry, only a small glimt of the man you used to know in them.

“____! Might wanna duck down a bit,” Tony shouts as he flies in your direction, his glowing hand aimed at Jungkook.

Your eyes widen in horror as you scramble together all the strength you have, throwing Jungkook off you and away from the deathly ray of light coming from Tony’s palm.

“No!”

The shot hits the asphalt a few meters away from you, nearly grazing Jungkook but it doesn’t, thankfully. Tony is shocked as he comes to a halt in the air, staring between Jungkook and you. You wave a hand at him. “I got him,” you assure him as you pant out breaths of air, nodding towards Widow and Thor, “go help the others.”

The man in the iron suit in front of you seems to hesitate for a second as he looks at you. He catches the pleading look on your face, glancing back at Jungkook for a moment before nodding at you once and flying in the direction of Widow and Thor, aiming his shots at the robots that are still coming from all sides. You turn your attention back to Jungkook, the body of the love of your life but not the eyes or mind of him.

“Jungkook,” you try again, slowly stepping closer as he stays still, slightly shocked that you had saved him from Iron Man’s deadly shot, “it’s me, ____.”

You’re begging, tone pleading him and hands up in surrender as you slowly step closer to him. He’s breathing hard, chest rising and falling in deep breaths. His eyes are dark, cold and distant as you get even closer. He’s frozen in his spot. He seems confused behind that hard expression, confused because you look less terrified than you did before realizing who he is. He doesn’t flinch or move away from your hand as it inches closer to his face, reaching for the black mask on his face.

“Hey,” you softly say, hesitating to touch him as you let a single tear escape and roll down your cheek. Something flashes in his eyes as he looks into your wet eyes, a small hint of recognition, familiarity too. Maybe he remembers. You hope he does. He lets you pull the black mask off completely, the strong line of his jaw appearing in front of you as well as his pink lips you used to kiss so often in that hidden place you liked to meet almost every night. “It’s me,” you whisper, “it’s ____.”

You’re afraid you’re imagining things as tears build up in the corner of his eyes, his jaw tightening. It’s too much for him. The memories returning with full force, the emotions filling his chest and warming it for the first time in 70 years. He wants to cry. He doesn’t know whether it's happiness because you’re right here in front of him, after he thought he would never get to see you again as he took his last breath back in 1944, or sadness because he’s well aware that he almost killed you if you hadn’t pushed him off you.

“____?” His voice betrays him as it cracks, your name coming out in a croaked voice. More tears escape as you hear your name falling from his lips for the first time since that morning in the military camp where he said ‘see you soon’ and then never returned. He freezes as you throw yourself at him, arms wrapped around him as you pull him closer in a tight hug. The sniffles and muffled cries you let out breaks his emotionless, cold heart and filling it with a warmth he hasn’t felt in so long. A tear escapes from the corner of his eye as he lets his own arms snake their way around your waist, hugging you just as tight as you hug him.

Relief.

That’s what he’s feeling.

Jungkook wanders around inside Stark’s office, eyes exploring things as he calmly runs his silver hand over them. You watch him from a few feet away, arms crossed over your chest. Worry is filling your entire body as his back is turned to you. He still doesn’t seem like himself. There is something about him that makes you anxious, something about him makes you wonder if he’ll turn at any moment, falling back into whatever sort of amnesia he has been experiencing for the past decades.

You jump in surprise when the door opens beside you, revealing Tony. He notices your jumbled state, giving you a small, half smile. You turn your eyes back to Jungkook who’s picking at an ancient-looking sculpture on Tony’s desk causing Tony to take a step closer.

“Hey! Buddy!” He calls out, catching Jungkook’s attention. “Don’t touch that, please. It’s antique.”

Jungkook steps away from the desk, hands up in mock surrender, emptiness in his eyes as if he couldn’t care less about Tony’s antique sculpture. No one really cared about that sculpture. It’s doomed to break at some point when it’s placed in his office, in the Avengers building.

“Tony,” you catch the attention of the older man, looking straight at him with hopeful, desperate eyes, “can you help him?”

He turns to face Jungkook, looking him over from head to toe. “Friday, give me a scan of whatever’s controlling Jungkook.”

Anticipated, you wait while biting a nail. Jungkook doesn’t move an inch as Friday scans him for anything to help Tony figure out a way to help. He’s glancing from Tony to you, his eyes meeting yours. Seconds. It takes seconds from his stare meeting yours to something flicking behind his dark brown irises, something inside of him snapping like the tips of someone’s fingers. Your eyes widen in panic as you move to stand between Tony and Jungkook.

“Tony!” You shout, moving fast as you try to get in between the two men. Tony has already activated his iron hand, catching Jungkook’s silver fist right before it hits him square in the face. You come to a halt, staring in surprise as Tony tightens his hold on Jungkook’s fist, forcing him to the ground. “Tony, please, don’t hurt him. He’s not in his right mind!”

“Oh, really?” Tony scoffs, sarcasm dripping from each word. A small yelp leaves your mouth as Tony kicks his knee up under Jungkook’s jaw, knocking him out. Jungkook falls limp to the floor, eyes closed as he’s kicked unconscious by Tony. You kneel down beside him, brushing his long strands of hair out of his face. He looks peaceful as he lays there, completely unconscious, and yet there’s a furrowed look on his face, like he’s never free from whatever that is controlling him. You sigh deeply, head dropping as you cradle Jungkook’s hand in your own. Tony’s palm rests on your shoulder. You glance up at him. He gives you a small, reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry, we’ll help him,” he tells you. You nod, knowing he spoke the truth.

“Thank you.”

The frustrated look and furrowed eyebrows are gone. He looks genuinely peaceful this time, long lashes resting on the top of his cheeks as he rests beneath the sheets on your bed. You can’t help yourself as you reach out, palm cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone in a soft caress. Hopefully you’ll have the love of your life back once he wakes up from the deep sleep Tony put him in.

You’re about to move away, retrieving your hand from his cheek just as you hear him whimper softly. Turning back to him, you watch as his lower lip begins to quiver, eyebrows furrowed tightly together. “No,” he whimpers again, head shaking in his sleep. “Please, no! Don’t!”

Worry fills you once again as you sit on the edge of the bed beside him, hands cupping his face between them. “Jungkook,” you softly call, trying your best to wake him without startling him. “Jungkook, my love, please wake up. Please!”

Startled, you gasp as his eyes shoot open, his lips parting as he gasps for air. He’s looking right into your startled, widened eyes. It takes a minute for him to realize who you are and where he is, the surroundings not seeming familiar at all, but it feels nice. The aura, the warmth and the dimmed lighting in the bedroom where he’s tucked under the sheets.

“Hey,” you breathe out as you smile, not sure what to say to him. Tony had made sure to help him, get whatever that was controlling him out of him, his head to himself now and slowly filling with memories, both good and bad ones. “How are you feeling?”

He groans as he moves to sit up. You help him straighten up, making sure he has a pillow for his back as he leans back against the head of the bed. He closes his eyes tightly together as he drops his head back, still trying to calm his erratic breathing. You sit back in the chair you had pulled to the bedside when you got here.

“I feel…” he begins, words feeling foreign on his tongue as he speaks with a croaking voice. He sighs deeply. This is a lot for his head to take in in just one day. “I feel like my head is about to explode.”

Your smile is careful as you look at him. “Makes sense,” you softly say, watching him glance at his arm only to notice the silver is still there, like he had hoped it would be gone. It’s easy to tell the arm itself is a symbol of a very dark time as he looks at it and then looks away from it. He isn’t fond of the silver arm, obviously having a love-hate relationship with it as it has given him power and strength he never had to begin with and problems he never voluntarily wanted in the first place. There’s pain in his eyes as he glances at you, shame as he cowers under your gaze.

You frown deeply. “What happened to you?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper. He closes his eyes, not really wishing to go back to those dark times where his life was saved and changed for the worse. The dark times where he became a shadow of himself and a manipulated soldier, brainwashed to take orders from others.

“I, uh, I don’t think-“ he stumbles over his words.

You place your hand over his actual hand, your thumb brushing the skin there. He glances at where you’re touching him before looking up at you. You’re hurting, it’s easy to see. It’s not your own pain though, it’s his. You’re feeling pain for him, hurting because he went through things he never should have, things where death would’ve been much less painful. You want to kiss him, kiss it all better if that was possible.

“You can tell me,” you whisper, pleading him to confide in you, to tell you what happened to him all those years ago.

He sighs deeply, turning his hand over to wrap it around yours. A rush runs through your stomach as he grips onto your hand with a hold so tight that you find yourself promising him silently that you’ll never let go again by giving his hand a small squeeze.

“They found me a few days later,” he starts, gaze focusing on the way yours and his fingers intertwine with each other like they’re meant to do it, “in the ruins of buildings. I-I wasn’t fully awake when they did, only just coming to my senses again after the explosion that was meant to kill me.”

You’re focusing on his hand in yours now, not able to look into his eyes as he tells the story of how he ended up here, 70 years later, and still looking like himself but with longer hair and impeccable strength.

“I didn’t recognize them. They wouldn’t tell me anything. They took me to this place, a bunker or something like that. There was this huge laboratory inside with equipment way ahead of its time,” he looks confused as he relives the horrifying moments, “I was placed in a chair and the next thing I know they’re sawing my arm off-“

You whimper. “Oh, god,” tears dwell in your eyes as you grip his hand tightly.

“____, I have never felt as much pain as I did that day,” he looks you straight in the eye, the pain from that day flashing over his face as he recalls it, the feeling of it. “And all I could think about while they turned me into this- this monster… was that I lied to you.”

You shake your head in denial. “No, Jungkook,” you whisper, “you couldn’t know. You couldn’t.”

He offers you a small half-smile, remorse covering his features as he reaches up with his silver hand, careful as he lets the fingertips of it brush your hair out of your face.

“I’m sorry I gave you an empty promise,” he whispers, silver fingertips brushing against the side of your face. You cover it with your own hand, letting him cup your face in the cold silver. He leans closer, hissing lightly as pain shoots up the side of his torso. “I’m sorry that I didn’t come back to you like I promised.”

“You did though,” you sigh deeply, resting your forehead against his. “You’re right here.”

He nods softly, his eyes shifting between yours.. “and I won’t leave again,” he assures you before hesitating, shrugging as he adds; “unless you want me to.”

You chuckle through the tears that had built up in your eyes. He’s smiling at you as you reach up to cup his face in your palms, brushing your thumb across his cheeks. He’s watching you, still not quite believing that you’re here with him. After so long. 70 years of wondering if you’re still alive. 70 long years of wondering where you were in the world. 70 unbearable years of longing for your touch, your soft, plump lips that made his heart stop beating for a few seconds each time they would touch his in a kiss.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” he whispers into the small gap of air space between you and him. “Each time I’d return from a mission and become myself again after being under mind-control, you were the first thing on my mind. To be honest, I don’t think you ever left it. You’ve always been there with me, in the deepest parts of my consciousness. You kept me sane during the missions, kept me from forgetting myself completely.”

Listening intently, you close your eyes as your thumbs continue to brush over the skin on his cheeks. He continues, a deep sigh falling from his lips and clashing against yours causing goosebumps to rise upon your body. You’re shocked that you have gone this far without smothering him in kisses. You don’t want to risk anything, waiting patiently for him to make the first move in the direction of more physical affection, whether it’s a touch of his hand, a hug or more.

“And when I realized it was you earlier today...” his voice cracks, “when I realized I almost killed you- I don’t think I can ever forgive myself for that.”

“You can and you will,” you softly tell him, the undertone of your voice stern, “you didn’t kill me. You wouldn’t. You were gonna recognize me sooner or later.”

He exhales shakily. “You don’t know that,” he almost snaps, eyes closed tightly as he drops his silver hand from your face. He pulls away from your touch, the warmth of him disappearing the further he moves away. He’s not looking at you. Tears are threatening to spill as you stare back at him, lips slightly parted as you want to speak up. You want to tell him he’s wrong, but you already know that he will not take your words for what they are. He, and you, know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t pushed him off when you did.

“You’re right,” you say, catching his attention again. He barely glances at you, noticing the small remnants of tears in your eyes before looking back at his silver hand, clenching and unclenching it. A tear rolls down your cheek. “You’re so right, Jungkook. I don’t know if you would or not.”

You get up from the chair you’ve been sitting in since you brought him back to your apartment. Jungkook still refuses to look at you as you move onto the bed, crawling closer to him. You don’t hesitate as you lay a hand on his shoulder and throw a leg over his to straddle his lap. He finally looks at you, eyes slightly widened at your actions. His eyes meet teary ones again, his silver arm moving out of an old habit as he reaches up to wipe your tears away.

“But I like to think you would.”

Your lips press against his before he can reply to your words. Jungkook gasps and then grunts in response as you press your mouth to his, desperately and needy. His body freezes beneath you as you kiss him, tasting his lips for the first time in an unbearably long time. It takes him a while to realize that you’re kissing him, finally kissing you back as he cradles you in his arms, pulling you closer to his chest. The silver arm keeps a tight grip around your waist, holding you in place as the other runs up your thigh.

Pulling away, you gasp for air, letting your forehead rest against his. Jungkook is breathing heavily, his breath once again clashing against yours as you both catch your breath. Your eyes meet, seconds after he’s kissing you again, your tank top riding up as the silver arm keeps you tight against him. The silver touching your skin causes goosebumps to cover your skin, a chill running up your spine as you cup his face. His tongue licks against your bottom lip, you let him in. A moan escapes your lips as his tongue touches yours.

“I’ve been holding myself back ever since you woke up,” you whisper against his lips, making him smile as his hands slide under your top, pushing it up before pulling it over your head completely. You return to his lips, catching them with your own as you reach for the hem of his t-shirt. He helps you pull it off, your mind elsewhere as you throw it onto the floor. Your hands rake down his body, over the tensing muscles of his abdomen as he moves his kisses down your cheek and further under your jaw. Your breathing is ragged as you pull away, only a few inches so you can glance down at his torso. The sight horrifies you, your fingertips brushing over scars and healed wounds.

“Oh my god,” you whisper as you glance up at Jungkook, his eyes meeting yours for a few seconds before you look back at his chest. Your eyes wander, over his both small and larger scars to his silver arm. You feel your heart tightening as you take in the way the silver arm is sewed onto his body. You hesitate to reach up, Jungkook’s eyes on you as you let your shaking fingertips brush over the burned, scarred skin that keeps the silver arm attached. “I- This…”

His human hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb caressing your skin. “I know,” he agrees without hearing the rest of the sentence. You look back at him, finding relief in his eyes as you rest your palms against his chest. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” he then says.

“They literally cut off your arm,” you point out, shaking your head in disbelief. You can’t even imagine how much pain he must’ve been in when they did this to him. “I wish I could have spared you this pain, spared you the torture you went through.”

He smiles softly. “I know, ____. But there's no way you possibly could’ve.”

You're carefully running your pointer finger along one of his scars when you look up at him, eyelashes framing your eyes so perfectly. He thinks you’re absolutely beautiful, even more so than the last time he saw you. You can’t do anything to stop the words that tumble from your lips next.

“I love you so much, Jungkook.”

His breathing stops for a second, his heart skipping a beat. He hasn’t heard those words since 1944. He didn’t even hear those words that morning you had sent him off, he hadn’t said those words when he promised to return. He should have. That way you’d never be in doubt of his love. He wonders if you’ve loved him since or if there has been anyone else in the meantime to love you the way he should’ve.

Silently, you watch him as his thoughts run one hundred miles per hour. Your palms are sliding from his chest to his shoulders and further up his neck to cup his face again. The love he feels is evident in his eyes as he focuses on you.

“I love you,” he whispers, carefully turning you over onto your back only for him to hover over you. You’re watching him, tingling in your stomach as you hear the words fall from his lips. He returns to kissing you, kissing the skin on your cheek, your neck and further down to the very top of your chest, right beneath the collarbones. He glances up at you as he kisses his way down the valley of your bra-covered chest. “I didn’t say it enough back then,” he mouths against your skin, another round of goosebumps rising beneath his lips, “I should have said it more. I’m sorry.”

You exhale deeply, arching your back into his touch as he reaches your navel and moves even further down to the waistband of your pants, your spandex pants that you so elegantly wear whenever you have a mission with the Avengers.

“Stop apologizing,” you breathe out, eyes closed as you succumb to his touch. The silver hand brushes over your stomach as it runs up to your chest, unclasping your bra on the front. It falls to the sides, revealing your perky nipples to the crisp air. You gasp softly as a silver hand brushes over both, the cold steel doing nothing but erecting them even more. “I've always hated it when you apologize.”

He smirks softly against your lower stomach, pressing one last kiss to the skin there before pulling the silver hand down to pull off your pants, and panties too. The pants are barely on the floor before he returns to your lower abdomen, kisses being spread across your hip bones and pubic bone. You reach down to tangle your fingers in his long hair as he runs his hands up the inside of your thighs. He spreads your legs, revealing your throbbing core to him.

“God, I missed this,” he breathed out, the air of his words hitting your wet folds. “Having you like this, all to myself.”

You whine from above him. “Jungkook,” you whimper, “please.”

It doesn’t take more for him to lean closer, tongue licking a stripe up between your folds and to your clit, his silver arm sliding across your abdomen to keep you down as he eats you out for the first time in decades. One would think he had lost his touch and knowledge of a woman’s body, but you can say that he certainly didn’t as he roots himself between your legs, tongue licking your wetness and prodding at the entrance.

“Oh god,” you moan, softly gasping for air as his human hand rests on top of your one thigh, fingers digging into the flesh there. You’re in heaven, on the ninth cloud as he slurps your arousal, licking your folds and clit as if his life depended on it. “Fuck, Jungkook!”

The sound of your name toppling from your lips as he hits a certain nerve makes his body flush with a warmth he almost forgot what feels like. You’re writhing in the tight hold of his silver arm, squirming as he licks you to your release. The orgasm is approaching fast and hard, Jungkook being the sole reason for it. No one could ever get you there as fast as him.

“I’m s-so close- oh!,” you pant, your walls clenching as Jungkook’s actual fingers slide into you. He pumps his hand in and out of you in a pace that is perfectly building up your orgasm. He takes nothing but a glance into his eyes as he leans down to softly kiss your clit that you’re toppling over, hitting the wall of your orgasm. “J-jungkook, my god!”

You jerk away as he leans forward, tongue licking up your release, tasting it on his taste buds. He hums with a small smile as he glances up at you, loving the way your eyes are almost bulging out of your head at the sight of him between your thighs. It takes nothing more than a few seconds before you shitting up, Jungkook meeting you halfway in a kiss. Tongues clash against each other, the taste of you on his tongue as he kisses you deeply, needingly.

“Please fuck me,” you mumble in between kisses, a desperate whining tone attached to your words. “Make love to me, Jungkook.”

He seals your words with a kiss, giving you a silent promise of doing just that. As if he’d lick you out and that would be it. No way.

You watch, teeth biting into your bottom lip, as he gets off the bed to remove the sweatpants you had dressed him in when you got back, getting him out of those military pants with belts and buckles all over them. His cock springs free, slaps against his abdomen as it stands proud into the air. A rush runs through your stomach at the sight, mouth slightly watering. Once the sweatpants and his boxers lie on the floor by his feet, he crawls back onto the bed. He moves closer, pushing you back onto your back as he hovers over you. You’re glancing at his silver arm for a mere split second, your hair reaching up to run along the hard edges of it. Jungkook can’t feel your touch but he’d like to imagine that he can as he watches your palm brushing over and further up to the nape of his neck. His eyes move back to lock with yours. You’re looking at him just like you did that last night of intimacy you had back in 1944, the night before he was sent off on a deathly mission. A huge wave of emotions hits him as he glances from your eyes to your lips and back again.

“I love you,” he softly says, eyebrows furrowed together as he looks at you, “so much, ____.”

You smile, pulling him down to meet you in a kiss. The kisses are soft, tender even as he reaches down to line himself up with your entrance. You gasp into his mouth as the tip of his cock prods at your folds. A hand of yours tangles back into his locks as he pushes inside, the tightness overwhelming for the both of you. He rests his forehead against yours, your breaths clashing together between you as he buries himself to the hilt.

“Shit,” he hisses, glancing down at your connecting hips. “Can i move?”

You nod your head, whispering, “yes.”

Jungkook watches the way your eyes roll to the back of your head as he pulls out and pushes back in, the sight causing him to do it again and again, wanting to see you lose yourself and succumb to the feeling of his cock brushing against your walls.

“Oh fuck!” You gasp as he gives you a particularly hard thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin as he hits that exact spot that makes you whimper out a soft, whiny moan. You’re clawing at his shoulders, his neck and chest as he sets a rhythm, keeping it steady as he grinds into you. He grabs your leg with his silver hand, helping you to wrap it around his waist. The other follows suit, locking with your other behind his back. He hits deep inside of you, his veiny cock sliding against your walls so deliciously.

It’s like that last night you had with him all over again just with more longing and more desperate kisses. Your stomach tingles with the overwhelming amount of emotions you’re feeling in this exact moment as you look up at him – his long hair slightly damp at the roots, his toned chest glistening in sweat as he works you both to a release, to a high you’re both so desperately in the need of.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans as you unawarely clench around his length, his head dropping to your shoulder. “Don’t do that or I’ll cum right now.”

“Sorry!” You squeak, chuckling as he eyes you with a small smirk. God, you wanna ride him so badly. “Oh, Jungkook,” you moan breathily as he hits your spot again. He’s watching you, eyes running over your face as it contorts in pure pleasure.

“Fuck, I’m close,” he grunts, leaning up on his hands to get a better angle. He rams his hips into you, his strength coming to show as he thrusts into you harder than ever before. The power of his thrusts have you seeing stars as your second orgasm nears you. Jungkook can feel it as you clinch repeatedly around him. He won’t last much longer if you continue to do that.

High pitched moans tumble from your parted lips as he speeds up his movements, desperately trying to get you over the edge before he topples over himself. Your nails are digging into his shoulders as you reach your high, the orgasm hitting you like a bullet.

“Oh my fucking god,” you moan, breathing ragged as he continues to fuck you to get himself to cum. His breathing is uneven, not matching his thrusts as all as he moves in and out a few more times before stilling inside of you, spilling his load and painting your walls inside.

“Fuck, I love you,” he breathes out as he drops his forehead to your collarbone. You’re smiling widely as you run your fingers from his shoulders and up into his hair. He lifts his head to look at you as you push his long, brown hair out of his face. You know him too well when he gives you a look, a small smirk on his lips. A joke is coming. You can just feel it. And you can’t help but grin at him as everything feels exactly like 1944 again. Also, you want to punch him for his next words:

“Not too bad for a 98-year-old, huh?”

all rights reserved © mercurygguk (with help from marvel studios *wink* )

[zuluc]

@kookieyachi​ requested: i hate to be that one person but i doubt they'll increase the rate but imma try my best & start saving for zhongli & childe 😼🤚 anYWAY-, i was wondering if u could write another diluc x reader whr they're in a secret relationship (only kaeya knew somehow-) & one of the mcs & paimon heard rumours of diluc having a s/o & decide to follow him, to see him gg on a date w the reader or summ,,, hope its not too confusing haha🥺💖

pairing: diluc x gn!reader

style & genre: written; fluff

warnings: none

notes: i meant rng rates those screw me over when it matters but i hope we get good ones when their banners come in, i wish the best of luck to everyone pulling may we get our dream teams; THIS IS CUTE ty for all your requests you know what’s good 😪😪

the mc in this is aether because i love aether

“I hear someone has Master Diluc’s heart!”

“Is that so?”

“Aw, man! I wanted him...”

It’s been the talk of the town for longer than he expected and wanted it to be: Diluc’s love life. He was always the private one and never shared anything about his personal life so it was only natural that no one, minus Kaeya it seemed, had a clue as to who took Mondstadt’s most wanted bachelor.

“Are they sure he’s even with someone? Isn’t it just a rumor?” Paimon asks her travel companion as they make their way into the tavern for a late night drink. The pair had travelled back to the town for a few days and while walking through they listened in on what the townspeople were gossiping about this time around.

“Not sure, he doesn’t seem like the type. Why not ask him, Paimon?” 

Paimon flies in front of his face and places her hands on her hips, “You don’t just ask him! He’s so secretive and... and well just that! Also, Paimon thinks he’d just avoid the question.”

“You won’t know it’ll work if you never try.” Aether suggests and opens the door to the tavern. He himself actually wanted to know the truth to those rumors because, well think about it, it’s Diluc and any information that made him seem more emotional than he let on was interesting. He steps inside, seeing the people inside drinking and laughing. They all greet him with their cheerful, yet drunk replies, and Diluc nods his head in acknowledgement. 

“Welcome back. What’ll it be for tonight?” He asks them. Aether places his drink order and Paimon hovers over the bartender with a judging look on her face. Convenient that he is working tonight. He raises a brow, “Can I help you?”

“U-Uh,” she turns her attention to Aether who simply looks back at her and sips his apple cider vinegar, a look of you’re on your own for this one on his face. “Have you heard what’s being said around Mondstadt, Master Diluc?” She asks in a way to slowly lead into the main question. Diluc picks up a glass and shakes his head, turning around to place the item on one of the shelves. 

“I’ve never paid attention to gossip if that’s what you’re referring to. And like I’ve said before,” he eyes the emergency ration suspiciously, “I don’t dwell on idle chat.” Those words, while they weren’t intended to be as cold as they sounded, prevented Paimon from pressing on. She pouts while flying, but her gaze lands on his hands. They are void of his usual gloves and Diluc wore them even while working. She brushes it off as a useless observation and the door of the tavern opens. 

“Evening!” Charles greets them. He waves a hand to Diluc who finishes the last of the glasses he is cleaning, silently thanking the bartender for taking the rest of his shift. He walks out the back and Paimon floats up.

“Does he have something else to do? He usually stays for the rest of the night.” She questions Charles who shakes his head in amusement.

“He must be working hard,” Charles comments, “or maybe taking some time for himself.” Paimon perks up at what he says and she looks at Aether. The traveller finishes his drink and narrows his eyes at her.

“What?” He barely gets another word in before she is rushing out the door. “Paimon!” He places mora on the counter and bids Charles a good night before following her. The door swings open and Aether is met with Paimon flying in front of his face.

“We’ll follow him!” She states confidently, a glint in her eyes.

Aether stares at her blankly. “Uh, why?” Again, she doesn’t give him an answer when she sees a flash of red hair behind his head. They keep quiet and hide behind the stone building when they see Diluc look side to side, almost catching them in his sight.

“He’s definitely going somewhere!” She is much more invested in this than Aether thought, but his own curiosity was overpowering the possibility of getting caught by the pyro user as well. He wordlessly agrees and they quietly tread behind him through Mondstadt, hiding behind every pole and wall whenever they thought he believed someone was following him.

Minutes into their mission Aether catches sight of the Knight of Favonius building and his suspicions are raised. Diluc wouldn’t be caught dead near this place, what more just by walking by it? He stops at the side and Aether tugs his hovering companion away from Diluc’s line of sight when it opens, a familiar person stepping out.

“It’s--!”

“Honorary Knight!” Huffman interrupts Paimon’s exclamation as he rushes to the both of them. “Would you be able to help us out near Windrise? Quite a lot of slimes showed up and the other knights are preoccupied with their own missions. I know you just got back but...”

“We’re good!” Another knight shows up, running to them, “Captain Kaeya helped us out!” Aether looks back and forth between then before looking at the door. It seems that the person and Diluc had already left. 

“Ah, I see. Sorry to intrude on your evening.” Huffman excuses himself and leaves with the other knight. Paimon flies towards the empty stairs, floating around premises as if looking for clues.

“Paimon saw y/n! Do you think they’re together?” She questions. 

“Isn’t that too much of an assumption?” Paimon floats to Aether’s face with mock anger on her features. “Maybe they could just be well-acquainted.”

“Let’s just see who’s right then! I bet...” she places a finger to her chin, “...5000 mora!”

“You don’t even carry mora.”

--

The commissions burned you out but you are more than happy to see what awaits you after you leave the building. Bidding Jean goodbye, you settle into your coat and push the doors open. He’s standing there waiting like he said he would and you notice there is no one around, though you had an inkling that someone was watching you. You are broken out of your thoughts when Diluc’s warm hand cups your face. He was initiating more touches after becoming comfortable in your relationship, so you felt happy that he could do so outside though with no one to see.

To you, it was hard to believe that you managed to attract him in the first place, considering his many suitresses, but despite that he insisted that it was you he was after.

“Something the matter?” He asks gently, removing his hand when he could hear steps behind him. You shake your head and smile at him causing his heart to warm at the sight. “Good, shall we?”

Your dates aren’t like the usual ones. You walk around the sides of Mondstadt when everyone is asleep as you both share what has gone on in your day. Sometimes, you even take a stroll outside the city and sit under the large tree in Windrise, watching the stars twinkle. Going on many secret rendezvous were fun and brought an excitement and mystery to both of your lives when they occured. 

But even so, sometimes you wondered what it would be like if the townspeople knew. 

Diluc never explicitly mentioned that he wanted the whole town to know and you both came to the conclusion that keeping your relationship from the public would be beneficial. He was known to be aloof yet protective of Mondstadt. He had a reputation to uphold and the enemies would otherwise have vital information to his weaknesses if they came to know of your connection.

You know he loves you, he tells you every night before you have to part until you see each other the next day. And any doubt in your mind is gone when your hand is held tightly in his.

--

“Paimon, we’ve been following them for too long. They’re just talking.” Aether felt uncomfortable doing what they were doing and spying on the both of you. He watches the both of you engage in a regualr conversation. After losing sight of you at the Knights of Favonious building they glided around trying to track you both. He couldn’t see that your hands were intertwined due to how your coat concealed it. 

“Ahh! Fine, we should go rest,” Paimon says defeatedly, “Paimon can’t believe she lost 5000 mora!” Aether rolls his eyes and jumps down from the roof to head to a nearby inn. The streets are quiet but there are audible footsteps from their right as they move through the houses.

“Hey, it’s nice to see you back in town.” Kaeya greets him with the usual lilt to his voice. “Why are you two still up?”

“We were following Master Diluc because we think he’s seeing someone!” Paimon really has no shame, does she? Aether thinks to himself and he looks up at the Cavalry Captain when the latter lets out a light chuckle. 

“What an interesting activity... I do hope you find your answer,” Kaeya nods his head to direct it behind them. Aether and Paimon follow his direction and see the two they had been trailing for the past hours. “Good night.”

“I almost forgot!” The duo’s ears perk at the sound of your voice. You and Diluc are at the front of your home and their eyes widen at the sight of your hand in his. You reach into your coat pocket to pull out his gloves, “You left them here.”

“Thank you,” Diluc replies, lifting the hand he held to his lips and kissing the back. “Good night, my love.”

“Good night, Diluc.” The smile on your face is ever radiant and he leans down for his kiss. You oblige but pull away to lean closer to his ear, “It seems that we have company.” Your hold leaves him and you open your door, disappearing inside. Diluc turns his head and sees the shocked faces of the traveller and ration. 

“Paimon wins.”

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (January 19/2021) - The Last Night

The last night before things go down.

After continuing for over six months -- half a freaking year, the Disc War might finally come to an end tomorrow.

HBomb leaves home, Niki discusses anarchy with Technoblade, and Snowchester continues on its merry way on the side.

Though the situation looks dire, things might not be completely lost, as Punz makes a surprising discovery that could shift the tides of the battle...

The meeting will happen at 7pm GMT/ 2pm EST TOMORROW.

---

- HBomb sees the signs Tommy left at his place, but is a little upset that he didn’t bother to learn that it wasn’t Eret living there. He sees the upside of Tommy learning and growing in maturity, though.

- HBomb meets with Niki at the ruins of her bakery by the Docks. She is wearing Wilbur’s cloak. He’s confused by why she had to blow up the bakery and burn L’mantree. Niki says it’s because of the memories.

HBomb: “You wanna get rid of your memories? You don’t just wanna learn from them?”

- HBomb says he’s only been able to trust Niki and Eret this whole time, but he doesn’t even know if he can trust them. He’s thinking about moving.

- They head to HBomb’s place at the Castle. He gives her all his supplies -- everything, except for his two Pigstep discs.

- They head up to the Nether roof and start heading West. They head out into a savannah and find a populated village. Niki leaves, and HBomb begins his new goal of keeping the villagers protected and safe. 

He has to go back to help Niki since she got lost, and the subject of Tommy comes up again.

HBomb: “Good deeds cause good people to do good deeds...”

Niki: “I am done with doing good deeds.”

HBomb: “But Niki, bad deeds cause people to do bad deeds. So in this case, wouldn’t it just be better not to do anything?”

Niki: “What will happen if we don’t do anything? Tommy will keep doing the same things he is doing over again...”

HBomb: “Okay, maybe you’re right...I...I just don’t like the idea of you trying to hurt him rather than just leave him.”

Niki: “You don’t need to agree with me, HBomb, I’m not asking you to. Just trust me on this.”

HBomb: “Okay, just...try not getting carried away. Not too much...”

- Tubbo’s got himself some NUKES. 

(They’re sticks with a texture pack)

- Tommy comes online later. He keeps talking about how it might be his last night alive. Tubbo comes over to say hi. Tubbo shows him the nuke and says he’d like Tommy to live with him in Snowchester after they get the discs back.

- Tommy decides to go around and say some goodbyes. First up is George’s Mushroom House.

- He then heads to Techno’s house, hoping for some supplies. Techno and Ranboo are both there. He’s extremely bad at being subtle and soon gets found by Techno.

- Tommy and Techno have a conversation. Tommy fills Techno in on the fight happening tomorrow and says he messed up. Tommy starts running back to the portal. Techno doesn’t feel like chasing after him. Tommy says that after tomorrow, if he doesn’t die, he wants to make amends.

- Next, Tommy visits the remains of Logstedshire. He reflects on his exile and says that for all the struggle, he made it out of there. 

- He returns home and decides to make one last drug room, as that was his happiest memory: making drugs in the Camarvan.

- Tubbo leads Tommy over to Snowchester. While on the way, Tommy looks at the Prison and reflects on how, since it was built during his exile, he was the only one who couldn’t see it being built...he and Techno. What purpose does Dream have for it?

- They make it to Snowchester and greet Jack and Foolish.

- Sapnap comes online and speaks with Tommy. He reminisces about how the three of them killed Dream in that first fight. Sapnap gives Tubbo the Axe of Peace.

- Next, Tommy speaks with Connor.  

Tubbo: “We’re gonna kick the crap out of Dream to save some music!”

- Connor says Ghostbur left him a gift to give to Tommy. He gives Tommy Chekhov’s Gun and Ghostbur’s Pick, meaning Tommy has both Dream and Wilbur’s crossbows.

Tommy: “You know the old Wilbur? Let’s make him proud.”

- They drink some drugs. End life on a high note!

- Techno sees the Eggpire propaganda and comments on how this sounds an awful lot like a government, and says that he’ll “deal with this later” as he makes his way to the L’manburg Crater as he searches for Niki to meet with her.

- Niki sends her coords and Techno flies through the rain to the Secret City.

- He speaks with her about how she wasn’t fighting for L’manburg on Doomsday II. He tells her how there’s more to anarchy than violence -- Everyone does violence. Anarchy is distinguished by freedom from hierarchies and rulers.

He says to consider anarchy once she’s past revenge.

- Techno then starts decorating the Syndicate headquarters with warped wood.

- Meanwhile, Tubbo and Jack Manifold have continued to develop Project Dream Catcher.

- Punz comes online, since during the fight with the withers, he lost the Blade of Justice. He sees the Vine growing on his tower and remarks that it’s cool.

- Punz checks his house. There’s a sign left from Tommy that says to check the seventh floor of his tower.

Punz knows about Tommy and Tubbo’s fight. He’s still a spy, after all. Dream’s told Punz all his plans. 

Punz says that they don’t stand a single chance. Dream’s showed him the area that’s been prepared.

Punz thinks Tommy’s going to die.

Punz: “Dream’s a sly guy...I think Tommy might lose his last life. I dunno...they’re going up against an un-winnable battle here. We’ll see though.”

- He goes up to the seventh floor.

There are signs there saying that Tommy’s been suspicious of Punz ever since he said he joined his side, but he’s provided a gift in the hopes that Punz will have his back.

There’s a chest there filled with riches.

35 diamond blocks, 35 gold blocks, Netherite, TNT...

Punz says it’s more money than Dream has ever given him.

- Punz says he has a reason to go against Dream now

Punz: “Wait...I actually have so much influence over the outcome of tomorrow. Do I help Tommy? Do I -- do I betray Dream? Why am I so torn on this?! I’m a mercenary! I do whatever the money tells me to do!

 ...We’ll see. We’ll see.”

- Tubbo tells Ranboo about Project Dream Catcher and Ranboo is very skeptical. He doesn’t tell Tubbo about his meetings with Dream, but tries to convince Tubbo that building nuclear weapons is an extremely bad idea.

- Connor accidentally walks into Pandora’s Vault through a Nether Portal link-up and then wanders back out.

As one does.

- Ranboo continues rebuilding the Community House using Eret’s recreation in the Museum as a reference. 

- Hannah works on her house

---

Upcoming Events:

Tommy and Tubbo’s confrontation with Dream is TOMORROW at around 2pm EST