#and then she told me i need a creative writing minor lol

[b4tboys]

my irl read a chapter of the book i’m semi-working on and then asked if i wrote fan fiction 😭

[lahooozaherr]

What Was I Made For?

Part 2

Please note: This blog stands with Palestine. If you are interacting with my account and TLOU related posts, I ask that you PLEASE visit these links. Be critical and mindful while partaking in TLOU content and be aware that creator Neil Druckmann is a Zionist.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: FLUFFY FLUFF, Joel is very soft and deserves softness, slight angst if you squint?, yearning, “first date jitters”, a smooch!! Honestly that’s kind of it, nothing wild happens in this. As always, let me know if I missed something 🫶🏻

MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI. AGELESS/BLANK ACCOUNTS WILL BE BLOCKED.

Chapter Summary: Since your recovery, you’ve settle into town and your routine nicely. Tommy sets you up with a job at the stables caring for the horses after their morning patrol, where you regularly see Joel. The two of you spend a lot of time together and Ellie has noticed. Joel asks if you’ve ever ridden a horse before, and upon discovering you haven’t, asks you take you on a horseback ride.

A/N: I had to rewrite parts of this, sit and contemplate, daydream, etc until I was finally somewhat satisfied with what I wanted to do in this chapter. So if it’s seems kinda clunky I apologize lol. I’m planning to make this a three parter so we’ll get to the fun in the next part! I can’t make promises on when since a lot of my writing is very dependent on my mood and how creative I feel. But I’ve also started my Death Worker apprenticeship and it gives me enough homework to space out for the month, so I have to keep balance! I hope yall enjoy this little installment. It’s a special little project for me, I just want Joel to be happy and to have someone that brings out his ability and need to process his grief.

Joel Vibes Playlist

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | AO3 | My Taglist

Joel continued to visit you as you recovered, bringing you some of your meals and discussing the books you shared interest in. Sometimes you’d share moments of vulnerability with him when you spoke of your past, and he’d do the same. He was guarded over some parts, but you understood. It can be terrifying to share that much about oneself.

You offered him a kind of softness and compassion he hadn’t come across in a very long time. That’s not to say he hadn’t, Tess was compassionate in her own ways, albeit her tough exterior, and he had immense respect for that.

He wasn’t used to it and at times he’d find himself questioning if he’s too harsh around the edges. But you never withdrew from him, you welcomed him with a warm smile everyday. You displayed a genuine interest in his company, it had become a comfort for you. Inadvertently, it had become a comfort for him as well. A balm for his aches that he didn’t know he needed.

Ellie had started to notice the times he had been absent, usually after his morning patrol.

“I haven’t seen a lot of you lately,” Ellie noted as she takes another bite into her breakfast. Joel leans against the counter with his coffee mug and takes a sip before replying, “when I’m not doing patrol I’ve been checking on that woman I told you ‘bout.”

“Oh?” Ellie’s face brightens, the corners of her lips turning upward into a mischievous grin. “You got a girlfriend now, old man?”

Joel shoots a glare back at her, “no.” It doesn’t deter her and she smirks, “if you have to deny it like that then she probably is.” He releases an exasperated huff before taking another sip from his mug, “I’ve just been checkin’ on her. That’s all.”

“Whatever you say,” Ellie stands from her place at the table and walks to the sink beside him to deposit her dishes. Joel gives her shoulder a pat and squeezes with his free hand, she returns the gesture by placing her hand on his and squeezing back.

She heads for the door and turns back to him as she opens it and calls out, “it’d probably do you some good!” Shooting him finger guns as she backs out, he rolls his eyes.

Eventually, you’d meet her and her unending curiosity. Ellie wanted to figure out what drew Joel to you. Eating meals with her and Joel was refreshing, allowing you that feeling of belonging in this world again. Ellie was a firecracker with the mouth of a sailor and you grew to adore her all the same. She enjoyed your company and sensitivity towards her and her interests.

Your recovery was swift, you were in good hands with the town’s doctor. Upon the day she cleared you with a clean bill of health, Joel’s brother Tommy and his wife Maria helped set you up in one of the houses in town. The house was currently being used by a few other unrelated individuals, basically creating a roommate situation. You didn’t mind at all, you were immensely grateful. This was far better than your situation back in your previous QZ.

They took time to show you around town, showing you where everyone meets up to eat in town. Various “shops” in town, trading was “currency” of course. They helped you aquire you some new clothes and essentials

Tommy suggested bringing you on to work in the stables in the mornings, helping care for the horses when they returned from that shift of patrol. After getting to know you and what he’d been told by Joel, he felt that your delicate touch was just what was needed to care for the horses. He also knew how therapeutic it could be to be with them.

His suggestion was met by an immediate ‘yes’ by you. You were mostly excited to start doing your part. You had never worked with horses before but you were sure you’d get a hang of it in due time.

Horses are gentle creatures, you remember hearing of forms of therapy done alongside them from the days before. You could see why, they were calm for the most part. You had slightly worried about being intimidated by them but that subsided when you were introduced to them.

The stable-hands you worked alongside were thorough and patient when they trained you. Teaching you how to feed, brush and even untack the horses upon their returns. You got along with them quickly and with ease. It had been too long since you’d been able to give love and care to an animal.

Being in this position also meant seeing Joel very regularly. Whether that was on purpose by Tommy or not, you weren’t sure. But you didn’t mind, you treasured your bond you’d created with him in such a short amount of time. It had also been too long since you felt connected to another human being.

When he’d return from patrol, you’d welcome him back as you helped him remove the saddle from his horse, Old Beardy, a beautiful and well mannered horse. He’d stick around to chat about what he’d seen that morning as he helped brush his coat as you fed him. When the horse would nicker at you and nudge you with his snout, you’d return the gesture with affectionate scratches and cooing.

Joel would watch you in admiration, an old and almost unfamiliar feeling that had been simmering under the service had started to take root. Everyday it sprouts new leaves and blossoms. Although it was undeniable, he’d been afraid to name it. A while ago he had told himself he can’t let “someone like himself”, rough edges and all, dim your light. He had only recently begun to explore what it meant to be a father again, he wasn’t sure if he was fit to re-explore having something more with you.

He was scared that he would hurt whatever he touched. That he would fail to protect, again.

You, on the other hand, are aware of the crush you’ve been harboring. Although there was that little, nagging voice in your head that would ask how someone as independent and strong as Joel could have those kinds of feelings for you.

You’d sometimes catch the way he looks at you when you’re focused on your work in the stables. Or the warmth he regards you with compared to others. You weren’t sure if he returned your feelings exactly, but you’d caught on to small gestures of his.

It was hard to deny the way your heart sped up in your chest when you’d greet him in the mornings. How it felt to have his eyes on you, his undivided attention. Sometimes guiding you by the small of your back when he walked with you through town, on the way back from the stables or your meals.

But how does one court another in an apocalypse?

—————————————————————————

“Mornin’, Joel,” you turn to see Joel returning Beardy to his stall, back from his morning shift.

He returns your greeting with nod and a smile as he begins to remove the horse's saddle, “Mornin’ sweetheart.”

You turn back to your task of cleaning your brush, hiding how you fight back against a grin that twists your lips and the warmth spreading across your cheeks.

You finish up and join Joel at his side, handing him a brush. He takes it from your hand, brushing his against yours in the process. Beardy turns his head towards you and bumps his nose against your arm, he knows what time it is. With a loving roll of your eyes, you remove an apple from the apron you wore, “Yeah yeah boy, I’ve got you, don’t worry.”

Joel truly admires the way you interact with the horses. You move around them with confidence and intention, he’s pleased to see his idea of suggesting this job for you to Tommy seemed to really suit you. You’ve really come out of your shell since your recovery. You were very thoughtful and attentive to the horses you worked with daily.

“I haven’t thought to ask ‘til just now,” Joel begins as he works to brush the horse's shoulder. “Have you ever ridden one?”

You snicker, “ironically, no. I’ve somehow come this far in life without the privilege.”

Joel is almost surprised, people are typically kind of afraid of the animal at first. You acted as if you’d always been around them.

Joel fights to look neutral as he offers, “I could….take you on a ride…”

He pauses and you glance at each other quickly as he almost nervously adds, “I mean, if you want.” To not seem overly dependent on your answer, he gives an indifferent shrug, but the smile behind his gesture betrays him.

With an excited sparkle in your eye, you perk up and smile, “Really? When?” You never shy away from showing your emotions or how eager you are. He also appreciates that about you, it’s helped provide some kind of a balance in his life. Regular connection with someone in touch with their emotions he finds safety and refuge in. “Emotion” is something he just only shows to a select few.

“How about this next day off?”

“You mean it?”

“When have I ever not meant what I said, sweetheart?” He flashes a smug grin and you shake your head with a chuckle.

“That’s very true. In that case, I’d love to.”

Joel finishes his brushing and sets the tool aside on a hook, “Alright, I’ll be at your house first thing in the morning? Before sunrise, I think you’d like seein’ that.”

You remove your apron and hang it, adjusting your coat as you do. You walk up to him and state, “It’s a date.”

He’s caught off guard and slightly frowns, not in disagreement but having trouble processing what you just said. A date.

You frown back and a sinking feeling almost lands in your abdomen, then his lips curve into a smile. A warm, humored one.

“It’s a date.”

Relief washes over you in the form of a big grin you can’t seem to fight off anymore, biting your bottom lip. He tosses you a wink before turning to leave the stables.

—————————————————————————

Maybe calling it a date wasn’t such a good idea, because it’s added much more pressure than you’d originally intended. You don’t date in this kind of world, do you?

You’ve spent a good 30 minutes bouncing back and forth between outfit choices, the very few you own. Pieces that are more about durability and appropriate for weather and not so much…attractiveness. But you wanted to at least try.

One of your roommates, Lisa, passes by your door on the way back from the bathroom you share, noticing you fidgeting at your outfit.

“You’re up early,” she takes notice, she herself is getting ready for her own morning shift. It’s your day off and unusually early for you to be up and about.

Her voice startles you and you turn to greet her, “Morning, Lisa.”

“Morning! You got something goin’ on today?”

“Yes, uh…” you become flustered as heat threatens to take over your face. “I’m going on a horseback ride with Joel.”

Her face lights up, “are you finally going on a date with grumpy Joel?”

“You really shouldn’t call him that. And yes? No? Maybe? What do you mean ‘finally’?”

She smiles knowingly and folds her arms across her chest, “I don’t know, it’s not like you spend most of your free time with him. On top of time you get to see him when you’re working.”

“Is that….bad?”

“Not at all, girl. I just think it’s about damn time.”

You blow a raspberry at her and chuckle as you make final touches on your outfit, she mimics you and taps your shoulder with the knuckles of her fist, “you look good, stop worrying.”

—————————————————————————

Joel approaches the door to your home. He’s nervous, if he’s being honest with himself. He can’t remember the last time he’d even been on a date, even before the outbreak. He was way more invested in being a father and running his business.

He rubs his hands on his jeans, palms slightly sweaty. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and knocks on the door. You open it shortly after, whispering to him a “good morning” before quietly exiting and closing the door behind you. He echoes the greeting in a similar tone of voice, being mindful of your roommates you share the home with.

When you smile it makes his stomach turn over, a weird dance between anxiety and peace plays inside of him. He feels so out of practice, but something about your energy helps ease those worries and grounds him.

The walk to the stables is quiet, something he chalks up to it being so early for the two of you on your mutual day off. But really, his mind is also racing, so it’s just a convenient excuse for him to gather himself on the way there.

When the two of you have Old Beardy prepared and ready, he looks to you, “you ready?”

A glimmer of joy is in your eyes, “absolutely!”

“Alright, let me help you up.”

“Oh, right,” you say hesitatingly, looking over the horse and saddle wondering how this will work. A chuckle rumbles in his chest before he kneels beside you, holding out his hands laced together.

“I’ll lift you up. Just step here and swing your leg over.”

He can still sense your hesitancy and offers you more reassurance, “don’t worry, I’ve got ya. I won’t let you fall.”

You trust him implicitly, you have ever since you’ve built your relationship with him. So without fear, you move as he instructs. When you successfully land on the saddle, you let out a squeak in triumph.

Joel pats your leg as he stands back up. “Atta girl,” he remarks in his southern-drawl.

That embarrassing heat begins to crawl back up your spine. What did he just say? But you love it, can he say it again please?

Joel lifts himself up and settles right behind you in the saddle, caging you in his arms. His broad chest against your back is warm and all encompassing. You haven’t been this physically close to him since he rescued you. It’s electrifying, a feeling you crave more of.

Joel has similar feelings about this, but stays professional. He has to. This isn’t that kind of date, or so he tells himself.

Beardy begins to trot in response to Joel’s whistle and commanding movements. You gasp in amazement and laugh, Joel can’t help but smile to himself as he listens to your small reactions.

Soon, the two of you’re out the gate. The sky is still somewhat dark, but a light in the distance signals that sunrise is on its way. Joel has the perfect spot in mind.

“How’re you doin’, sweetheart?”

“I’m great, this is so fun,” you respond joyously. His laugh in response is deep and rich as he signals the horse to speed up just a little bit.

The surrounding area is quiet, save for sounds of crunching snow under Beardy’s hooves and Joel’s breathing. You debate if you should break it and say anything, but you can’t seem to come up with anything. You don’t really want to. It’s so peaceful, it’s just perfect. If it’s like this every morning, you almost wish you could join him on his patrol.

“Oh, hold very still,” Joel’s voice drops an octave as he lowers his lips next to your ear to murmur, lightly brushing, and it sends shivers down your spine. You hope he doesn’t notice. “Look.”

You look around and see a family of deer, a Doe and her two babies. They don’t notice the two of you, Joel had stopped to a standstill just a few yards from them. The scene is serene and makes your heart swell. It’s amazing how life goes on in the wild despite the outbreak. If anything, it has thrived even more so.

“Beautiful,” you’re careful to whisper so you don’t disturb the moment.

He’s caught himself watching you again, instead of the deer family. It feels like witnessing the world again, through your eyes. You hold an appreciation for the small things that he’s taken for granted before.

Joel nudges Beardy and turns his reins to walk beside carefully, avoiding the small family. They go on eating, undisturbed.

“It’s just right up here,” he states. After a few turns, he brings you to a small hilltop. The sun is just starting to rise as you arrive and Joel gives himself a mental pat on the back for his perfect timing.

“Oh, Joel….” You trail off, the view of the sunrise and landscape leaves you speechless as you take it all in. The snow before you is untouched and smooth. It sparkles in the growing light of the sun rising over the mountains. The sky itself looks like a beautiful painting with purple bleeding into red, pink and orange hues.

“This is…this is breathtaking, I don’t know how else to say it,” you profess to him.

“I know, it makes you just stop, doesn’t it?”

Almost instinctively, you lean back into Joel’s chest and relax. You feel him freeze and almost regret your action until you feel him quickly settle that fear, feeling his chest press against your back in return. You wish you could tell him his embrace makes you feel the safest you ever have.

The tranquility of the moment lingers on until you speak, “thank you, Joel.”

“You don’t have to thank me for this.”

“I mean, for everything. You’ve been so kind and welcoming to me since I came here. You saved me.”

You turn your upper body to face him, he looks back into your eyes with his deep brown irises. Suddenly, you could slice the tension in the air with a knife.

“Thank YOU, also,” his lips purse.

“Me? For what?”

“For helping remind me why I’m here. Why I’m STILL here.”

“Oh gosh, you didn’t need me for that…” you begin to turn your head away until suddenly, his large palm cups your opposite cheek and brings you back to face him.

Your breath hitches in your chest when your eyes meet his. Joel’s eyes are dark and formidable, but you’ve found the hints of compassion and warmth in them recently. This time is no exception, chocolate eyes conveying how genuine he is. He always means what he says.

The initial shock of him maneuvering you to face him subsides quickly, as if it’s natural of him to do this. He wonders if he’s being too forward when you nuzzle your cheek into the palm of his hand. He lets out a quiet sigh of relief.

“That means the world to me,” emotion breaks through your voice, tears begin to break through at the corners of your closed eyes.

Joel wraps his arms around your shoulders and brings you close to him, placing a faint, soft press of his lips to the top of your head. Your quickened heartbeat threatens to expose you to him but you don’t seem to care, because maybe it’s time he knew.

Maybe it’s time he knew what he really means to you.

“Could we get down for a moment? I’d like to stretch my legs.”

“Hm? Sure thing,” Joel agrees. He jumps down from the horse and turns and reaches up to assist you. It seems the tables have turned from you using this moment to confess when he brings you down into his arms, encasing you in his embrace.

He doesn’t move and neither do you, as you search each other’s faces. Your lips part, you try to find the words you need but they’re as lost as you are in his eyes. You watch as his eyes dart down and back up to yours as the tip of his tongue quickly darts across his lips.

A fire is lit in his chest, one that he had assumed was gone for ages. It became an ember when he met you, and now it scorches as he holds you in his arms. He can’t find the words either, but he’s more of a man of action.

His face inches closer to yours and you take the cue and mimic him. When he sees this, he takes the plunge and closes the gap and gently, experimentally presses his lips onto yours.

With butterflies in your chest and a boost of confidence, you take advantage of the angle he has you in. Bring your arms up and wrap them around his neck to deepen the kiss.

His lips are as soft and pillowy as they look, a puff of air escapes his nose as he slowly molds his lips to yours. His aquiline nose pushes against yours, he feels like a puzzle piece made to connect to you. You can smell him, a mix of the smell of firewood, pine and a smell that's unique to him.

You feel one of his hands lift up to grip the back of your hold to himself steadily against you. It’s like he refuses to part and come up for air, continuing to take short breaths through his nose. But soon enough he’s forced to pull away, if ever so slightly.

It’s been too long since you’ve ever shared something so intimate with someone, and surely you’ll be addicted after this. Kissing Joel Miller is sensual and slow, right off the bat. You probably look drunk on his kiss but you don’t care, if your feelings weren’t obvious before they really were now.

“I, uh-I…” Joel stammers, blushed from the cold and being unused to speaking his feelings. You lean in and kiss him again, effectively shutting down his attempt to speak. When you part from him, you look into his eyes smiling as you exhale a breath.

His heart races in his chest and he doesn’t remember the last time it did this in response to something other than adrenaline or fear. He asks himself if you can read his mind when you place your hand over it. But really, you just wanted confirmation.

His smile in return is wide, showing his teeth and exhilarated as he does so. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him exude such happiness.

You cup the back of his head with both of your hands, gently nudging him towards you. You touch your forehead to his and close your eyes and he joins you.

“It’s ok Joel, I’ve got you.”

@nerdieforpedro @joeldjarin @orcasoul

Divider by @saradika-graphics

[httpdabi]

AmongUs

Summary: You decided to play AmongUs with your best friend and troll some randoms in there, what you didn’t really expect was to meet an extremely handsome stranger that has to offer you things your ex boyfriends never did.

Genre: smut, romance, No quirks looool

Word count: 7.5k

Warnings: 18+ (minors fuck off kindly), creampie, multiple orgasms, fingering, forced orgasm, daddy kink, dom!Dabi, orgasm denial, praising!

I had lots of fun writing this! Hope you enjoy it <3

,, Girl, you promised that you’ll come over tonight’’ you whined loudly over the phone, as your best friend Nejire told you that she won’t be able to make it, breaking your plans into tiny little pieces. Damn her childhood friend and his whole family deciding to come exactly today over, ruining your perfect evening with your best friend.

,, Yeah, but we can drink and play, doesn’t matter if we ain’t together, I’m sure he’ll like to play with us ‘’ you could almost feel her smile on the other line, and with only that you couldn’t even think about being mad at her, knowing very well how much she loves that guy. Probably in a way that no friends love each other.

,, Yeah, yeah. But girl, if you dich me tonight and let me troll people on my own, I’ll never forgive you’’ you smiled, knowing very well that she won’t do that. The two of you spend too much time playing stupid games together, drinking till you are comfortable enough to argue with strangers online, and troll the shit out of them.

Since it was weekend, and you were spending time on your own, you decided to start drinking a bit earlier. Turning on a movie, you started sipping on your wine, exchanging some texts with your best friend every now and then.

Your first glass was done way too fast, and you were already sitting in front of your computer with your forth glass beside the keyboard, and a cigarette in your right hand, texting a code to Nejire as you puffed on your cigarette.

The moment you saw one familiar and one not so familiar usernames getting into the private lobby , you smiled widely once Nejire started laughing loudly.

,, HAHAHA BITCH WHAT KIND OF NAME IS THAT’’ she screamed, as her lover boy giggled quietly beside her, probably too shy to say anything.

,, What is wrong with Kentuckycriedfricken?’’ you asked, as you slowly tapped with your fingers over the table. Well, you weren’t so creative tonight, but you could only blame alcohol on that.

,, Why the fuck are you called TURKEY_SANDWICH’’ you added another question, not giving her a chance to answer to your first one.

,,BECAUSE I’M CARVING ONE’’Nejire screamed, and in that moment you knew very well that she drank as much as you did, if not even more. You giggled to yourself, as you watched the room getting full, some people talking, some texting in the chat and some simply waiting.

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, once you saw all the people commenting START In the small chat box. There was something about it that was pissing you off, making you kick or ban anyone who writes it. This time, you were too busy laughing with your friend, and instead doing any of it, you simply started the game.

CREWMATE

You sighed in relief, taking a sip of your wine, as Nejire ran around you with her friend, singing loudly. Ignoring the two of them, you made your way to the Admin room, to swipe the card, not so surprised once you saw a crew of other players doing the same thing.

,,KENTUCKYCRIEDFRICKEN WHERE ARE YOU’’ you heard Nejire once she entered the room. Once she noticed the cyan color hiding in the crowd she hurried with her Pink character toward you.

,,Wanna watch me scan?’’ she asked, making you giggle as she just gave you the secret code, making sure you know that she’s the Impostor.

,,Nah, Imma pass’’ you said, getting out of the room. You were pretty sure she’ll win the game, since she had you and her friend on her damn side, but you did wish you could know who the other Impostor is. Ignoring her, you made your way toward the Weapons, to clear the damn Asteroids and just look for someone to play around with. These people were way too quiet for your taste.

,,Heyyyy what’s up man?’’ you almost screamed excitedly when you saw a dark blue character, hopefully a crewmate, standing there and clearing Asteroids, or you thought so. You forced your voice a pitch higher, giggling to yourself, knowing how stupid you sound.

,,Oh my god, how old are you?’’ the stranger asked. The moment you spoke, all the giggles were gone. That guys voice was so damn deep, you literally had to lit a cigarette before you decided to speak up again.

,,Old enough’’ you laughed, refusing to tell him your real age just now.

,,Older than 18?’’ he asked, as you were shooting those Asteroids, not that focused.

,, Of course’’ you gasped, rolling your eyes, like he might see you.

,, Thanks God.. Do you play Amongus often ?’’ he asked, not even knowing that his fucking voice was doing things to you.

,, Amongus is my favoire game’’ you said, finishing your task. The way he talked to you, you were almost sure that he was trying to troll you a bit there, probably thinking you are one of those uwu pick me girls.

,,Mhmm.. you’re up pretty late.. what’s your bed time?’’ he asked, and with that question you were more than sure that he was messing around.

,, Daddy beats me if I don’t go to bed at 9’’ you tried to hold your laugh, and you could almost hear the stranger doing the same thing you do.

,, Ohh, I could be your daddy and I would never do that to you ‘’ he said. In that moment, if it wasn’t for his voice, you would probably just laugh loudly and just go away. But damn, the way he said that.

,,HAHHAHA YOU CRAZY FUCK’’ You choked out, once you got out of your little dream, liking how he played along.

,, So that’s your real voice’’ he mumbled, small muffed laugh following the sentence, as you ran away from him. You didn’t hear a voice like that for a long time, and you really hoped that the dude will follow you around for the rest of the game.

Which at your surprise happened.

You were about to ask him some stupid question, but in that very moment someone found a fucking body.

,,Pink killed white and just jumped into the vent in front of me’’ some dude accused Nejire, and that’s when you knew that you have to jump in.

,, I saw Pink scan tho, so that makes you pretty sus dude’’ you lied without thinking twice. Yeah, you knew that it’s more fun if you play by the rules, and don’t team up.. but Nejire is rarely the Impostor and she’s always so damn excited when she wins.

,, Yeah, that’s Pretty sus… ‘’ your new friend said, probably believing you, since you two spent some short time together.

At the end of the short meeting, White was voted out.

You made your way to Reactor to do your task, and Nejire and her friend followed you, probably to look a bit clear to others. You hated the task you had to do, so you took your time, ignoring the loud laughs coming from your friend.

Shortly, the voice of Nejire was changed with the deep one.

,, So, what do you do usually?’’ he asked, as you tried to start the reactor. You had trouble with that task without being tipsy, so alcohol wasn’t really helping in your current situation.

,, I’m streets salesman of burgers’’ you joked, making him laugh a bit. Only to end up telling him that you are actually a student, having a mini job at the café near where you live. You weren’t even sure if his voice was making you speak up or the alcohol, but you almost found yourself telling him the story of your life.

,, Where are you going?’’ he asked you, as you made your way toward Electrical, stopping once the lights got off. You didn’t want to look sus to him, but you didn’t want to go there, since everyone knows that the first person that enters the room will end up dead.

,,Well, I wanted to go to electrical, to do my task, but not so sure about it anymore’’ you said honestly, running around him.

,, Come on, I’ll keep you safe’’ he laughed, and you followed him. The moment you were about to do your task, the game finished, showing how the Impostors won.

You heart almost skipped a beat when you saw In the chat box how your dark blue feiend was the second Impostor. You found it extremely cute that he had way too many chances to kill you and he never did. Instead of killing you, he was simply chatting with you.

CREWMATE

Usually you were the one to hate playing as impostor, always feeling the pressure and thinking that you’ll ruin the game for the other impostor, but tipsy like that, you wished you could be one now, and kill some crewmates around.

,, Doll, teaming ain’t nice’’ deep voice told you as you were downloading the data in the Cafeteria.

,, Awh, come on, she needs a bit of support’’ you said, focused on his voice more than on your task. ,,After all you just used me to clear yourself and look less sus’’ you added and he sighed loudly, acting shocked that you could even think of him like that.

You thought that the little play with the stranger will be just one time ‘’experience’’, but at your surprise he asked you for your instagram at the end. Usually you aren’t the one to share your personal information’s with others, and you also weren’t sure what you’re getting into, yet you found yourself giving him your username before you turned the computer off and drifted into a deep sleep.

Once you woke up, your phone was blown up with notifications, every single one from instagram. One text message and the rest of it were likes.

[Touyaf]:

,,Well, didn’t expect you to be this pretty.. super glad I met you there ’’

You smiled to yourself as you read the little message, with one of your post attached to it. Tapping on his username, your eyes almost widened in shock once you realized that not only his fucking voice was attractive. The dude was a motherfucking snack, and you had a pretty big luck that you found him in that silly lobby.

To Touyaf:

,, Heyy, you ain’t looking bad either lol same, let’s play together again ‘’

You replied, before you returned to his profile to like some photos he posted. Being honest, you didn’t know what to expect, but what you didn’t expect was a black haired guy, with piercings and tattoos covering his body. He definitely didn’t look like someone who spends his time on computer playing fucking Among us.

Hopping out of your bed, you made your way to get ready for the day. There were many things you planned to do, so you didn’t really want to waste your time. The faster you’re done, the more time you’ll have at the end.

After you packed all the post you had to send for your work, you headed to the bus station, hoping you’ll be able to catch the next bus. At your surprise Dabi was replying to your messages way too fast, making it one of the conversations where your eyes simply have to stay glued to your phone.

You found it almost funny how you ended up checking up your phone more often than usual, for someone you didn’t even meet yet. Sure, his profile looks legit, but the possibility that some attention thirsty freak is hiding behind that profile will be there till you meet him personally.

Once you finished everything up, you made your way toward the little Game shop, the one you were a well known costumer in. The now not so new Crash Bandicoot game that got out months ago was finally on the sale. You wanted to buy it the same day it got out, but $75 was too much, and it’s not like you’re shitting money.

The moment you bought the game, you wished you could fucking teleport yourself home, but sadly, you still had stuff to do and the game had to wait.

..

Your steps felt heavy, as you pushed yourself in the crowd, trying to keep your balance. Someone’s shoulder almost knocked you out, making your blood boil in just a damn second. Turning your head to the side, more than ready to fight, a smile crept on your face once you realized who you’re facing.

,, OH MY fucking god ‘’ you gasped, pointing every word out.

,, Woww, you’re alive’’ your cousin laughed, once she realized that you were ready to throw some hands. You really wanted to go home, but since ALL OF SUDDEN, both you and your cousin had some time, she forced you to go grab a coffee with her.

The two of you wanted to meet for a long time, but yet none of you could manage to get some free time and meet.

,, Yeah, Kai went to that Music program. The whole town was voting for him, didn’t you know that?’’ she said, talking about your childhood friend that always wanted to become famous.

,, Wow, strong community ‘’ you joked, acting surprised. Even tho he was your friend, you had to be honest. He couldn’t sing for shit.

The two of you ended up spending much more time than you planned to, and you ended up not minding it at all. You actually enjoyed talking about random shit form the last with her.

,, Wow, I didn’t think Bonnie is still alive. That dog could sense us from far away, so weird’’ your cousin said, sipping on her now cold coffee. ,, You think she would still smell or sense me if I would be on my way to your parents house ?’’ she added, eyes almost twinkling excitedly.

,, She can definitely smell your stinky ass’’ you joked, playing with the metal straw in your drink.

,, Oh eat shit, I’m sweating so much that I’m showering two times a day’’ she protested, slapping your arm playfully.

,,And even that ain’t helping’’ you laughed loudly once you saw her disgusted face.

The two of you finally parted ways, once you told her that you have some other important plans, deciding its better not to tell her that you’re dying to go home and play the game you bought.

You almost teared up once you were finally in your pajamas, laying comfortably on your couch and playing the game. You almost teared up, when you chose the retro function of the game, where you can get and loose life, thinking you’re the old school gamer. Oh, how fast you changed it once you realized how hard the game is.

After playing the game for two hours, you realized that you definitely won’t be able to finish it in one night. You were glad that the production was aiming for the old public, but you didn’t expect it to be that hard.

[Touyaf]:

,,The game is dope as fuckkkk, but too easy imo’’

You smiled when you saw that he replied to the picture you posted on the story.

To Touyaf:

,, Are you insane ? I’m on the same level thirty fucking minutes now :( ‘’

You replied, as you continued with the game, only to pause it after one minute of gameplay just to check your phone when you saw the instagram notification.

[Touyaf]:

,, Want me to help you?’’

To Toyuaf:

,, How ?’’

[Touyaf]:

,, Send me your address ‘’

Your eyes widened when you saw what he wrote, too scared to open the message he sent you. Of course you wanted to meet him, but so fast ? And at this time ?

Was that really smart ?

Well, it doesn’t matter if it’s smart or not, you ended up sending him your address, last name and running around in the middle of the night and cleaning your apartment anyway. You found yourself smiling the whole time while hysterically cleaning around. You didn’t know if he is living near or far, yet there was so much to do. It was very visible that you weren’t expecting any guests.

Luckily for you, it took him some time to arrive, giving you a chance to clear everything nicely and throw your clothes that were laying around into the closet.

The moment you heard the doorbell you got nervous like a little teenage girl that was about to go on her first date and the moment you opened the door, you were more than sure that you made the right decision when you sent him your address.

Was is possible that someone could be that handsome ? At one point you thought that he was just photogenic when you scrolled his Insta feed, you thought maybe he knew his angles. But damn, the dude standing in front of you was someone you would spread your legs for without thinking twice.

,,Hey, nice to finally meet you’’ he said, giving you a small hug which you definitely didn’t expect. ,, You look even prettier than on photos’’ he added, smiling at you.

,, You think? Thank you. You too’’ you said awkwardly. Usually you are much more confident, and you don’t have problem with communication, but the fact that this handsome dude you barely know, is in your apartment, made your legs shake.

,, I mean, you are really handsome’’ you added fast, trying to break that creepiness in your voice, giving yourself a mental facepalm once you realized that he was holding back his laugh. You almost looked like fucking Bella from Twilight. Was that necessary ?

,, What do you want to drink? Tea ? Coffee? Orange juice ? Wine ?’’ you asked, preparing the glass. He probably noticed how nervous you are and that made you even more nervous. Everything that could go wrong, is going wrong right now.

,, Well, I’m really up for some wine’’ Touya said as he sat comfortably on your couch.

THANKS GOD. You weren’t sure if you would be able to survive being in the same room with him while drinking a fucking chamomile tea.

,, You can’t beat this level? This one ?You can’t be for real’’ he laughed, as you placed two glasses and one bottle of wine on the table.

,, Are you dissing my gaming skills ?’’ you laughed, pouring the wine in the glass while he was playing the game like it was nothing.

,, Ah please, how many times did you paly it ?’’ you whined loudly, as he played almost perfectly.

,, Oh thanks God, you are a smoker, I was already stressing myself out if I’ll have to go out for every cigarette’’ Touya said once he saw you lit a cigarette.

After your second glass of wine, all the nervousness was gone. The two of you were having pretty much a fun time playing the game and drinking together.

,, What are you doing ???’’ he asked, almost screaming once you died in the game, without getting to the checkpoint.

,, MY BEST, I’M DOING MY BEST’’ You screamed back, throwing the controller to his direction, one again feeling defeated.

After that night, Touya started visiting you more often, and every night he would visit you, the two of you would drown a bottle of wine. You didn’t expect him to be such a cool person actually. In your opinion he did look like someone who’s full of himself.

Also, when you told Nejire that you met the dude from Among us, she immediately started lecturing you about how he could have killed you, totally ignoring the fact that you were standing in front of her alive and more healthy than you ever were.

,, Anyway, they have one appointment free today ‘’ Nejire said, as the two of you walked down the street, going to your usual café.

,, What are you talking about ?’’ you asked confused.

,, About escape room you stupid bitch’’ she said, hitting your arm lightly like she was talking about it clearly before.

,, Nejire, if the two of us go, one hour won’t be enough for us to get out of it’’ you pointed, knowing very well that neither of you is capable of figuring anything out on your own, especially not some scary ass escape room.

,, Ye, but I can ask Mirio to come, and you can ask the Dabi dude’’ she said, rising her eyebrows at you. Well that wasn’t a really bad idea actually.

Both Mirio and Dabi agreed, and while sipping on your coffee the two of you reserved the room. It was pretty much unplanned, and you had around 2 hours until your appointment, but you were really glad it worked out.

,, Girl, you should see my little sister today, girlie is only 3 years old, and she already flirts better than you and me together’’ Nejire giggled, as you gave her one questioning look.

,, She met some boy at playground today. You should see the looks they were giving each other. They even started talking in their baby language, discussing something’’ she said, making you laugh as you imagined her baby sister hitting on some other kid. You were never a person that could deal with kids, but her sister was really special.

Once the Mirio arrived, Nejire got all quiet, which almost made you laugh out loud, since she’s nothing like that usually. She did tell you before, that the two of them hooked up after one of the birthday parties you attended, but you almost forget about that.

,, What can I get you?’’ the waiter asked Mirio, as you and Nejire talked excitedly about escaperoom.

,, One Matte Lacchiato’’ Mirio said, trying to follow what you were talking about, while the waiter was looking at him confused, not sure if he’s joking or not.

,, You mean Latte macchiato ??’’ Nejire asked, trying to hold her laugh. The moment the waiter left, none of you had to hold it back anymore.

,, Dude, Matte Lacchiato ? Really?’’ you laughed loudly.

,, Fuck off, I’m not a coffee person’’ Mirio snapped, his face all red from embarrassment.

,, One Paccuccino please’’ you joked, making Mirio roll his eyes.

,, One Sepresso please’’ Nejire laughed loudly , while Mirio was mumbling something under his breath, hating the both of you in the moment.

,,By the way, I don’t like this thing, tastes like nothing’’ he said, as giving it to Nejire to try it out.

,, Out of 1 to 10, how many points would you give to this Matte Lacchiato?’’ Nejire asked, giggling, giving him a sign that she’ll never forget the silly mistake he said.

,,2 points. One for having balls to sell it, and another one because I’m such a good hearted person’’ he said, pushing the drink to the side.

The moment you saw Touya enter the café, you started waving around with your hands, helping him find you.

,, What took you so long ?’’ you asked, as he took a seat next to you. He looked good as usual, wearing oversized purple shirt, and black pants with nike airforce.

,, I was in the middle of a jog when you texted me’’ he said putting his both hands in the air, feeling attakced.

,, Oh that sounds fun’’ you joked, as you rolled your cigarette.

,, Yeah? I’ll call you next time to come with’’ he said, also rolling a cigarette, while giving you a side look.

,, Not that fun’’ you laughed.

,, dude, the last time we jogged together, she had to call a taxi to bring her back home’’ Mirio said, making Touya laugh.

,, Trueeee, I had to pour water all over her face when we were jogging together’’ Nejire added, remembering the accident that happened back in the days.

,,Oh shut up, I had to put your fucking legs up hoping you wont collapse’’ you laughed. Sure, both Mirio and Touya were in better shape than you, but Nejire ? Girl was on the same level.

,, And stop it, stop dissing me! I’m a victim of a hate crime right now” you whined loudly, as all of them laughed.

When the time came, all of you made your way to the escaperoom. After you checked in and paid, you and Touya went out to smoke one more cigarette since you had some time before the game starts.

,, So, what will you do after this ?’’ Touya asked, placing his arm around you as you puffed on your cigarette.

,, I don’t have any plans yet, why ? Wanna come over ?’’ you asked, mentally holding your shit together once he said that he’ll gladly come.

He was too close, wayyyy too close. You could even smell his fucking perfume.

Once the game started all of you were more than lost, having hard time finding the clues. You were in some basement looking room with tons of books. Touya and you found the first clue, some numbers written on the small closet as a code for opening the box that Mirio found.

Mirio found the second code, that led you to the box with the key that was opening the door.

,, Oh my god guys, there are number on the closet’’ Nejire screamed loudly, making all of you laugh.

,, Sweetie we passed that part long time ago.’’ Mirio said pinching her cheek. You were pretty sure that she was a bit lost, because Mirio was giving her way too much attention.

The next room was even darker than the first one, full of some weird family photos, crosses and blood. All of you were trying to work together, you agreed to use the Woky toky only when needed, yet the person who held it didn’t really give a shit about your agreement.

,, We need help’’ Mirio said, while the rest of you whined loudly since it was probably the third time he’s using it by now.

,, Dude, do you like the worker here ?’’ you asked him, as you took the photo of the wall.

,, No, why?’’ he asked you back, almost confused.

,, Because you are constantly talking to him. I swear you didn’t even talk to your ex that much ‘’ you said, making Touya laugh a bit.

The game continued with all of you in a rush to figure things out. One clue led to another one, and you opened some small room, where someone had to go inside to pull some weird looking rope.

Luckily for all of you, Mirio volunteered. The moment he pulled the rope down, some weird as cockroaches fall down on him, making him get out of the small room faster then he got in there.

,, Fucking shit, I didn’t sign for this’’ he whined, sighing in relief once he realized that those cockroaches are plastic one.

,, I swear, if that shit fell onto me, I would smash the red button without thinking twice’’ Nejire said in disgust.

,, This game is hard as fuck’’ you sighed, as you held some weird box with some knifes in your hand.

,, Wanna know what else is hard ?’’ Touya said quietly, making your eyes widen in shock.

,, Excuse me?’’ you couldn’t believe what he was asking you, here in front of your friends.

,, This cross. Oh my god, didn’t expect you to be that dirty minded doll’’ Touya laughed loudly, making you blush. In your Defense, he sounded like he was talking about his dick. He definitely didSl.

At the end, the 4 of you made it out of the room few minutes before the game ended. The moment you opened the door, you found the worker that explained the game and led you to the room standing in front of the very same door. Probably ready to get you all out.

,, This was so embarrassing ‘’ Nejire laughed as all of you got out of the building.

,, Yeah, imagine if we didn’t figure it out, what would he tell us ? Sorry but yall have to die now’’ Mirio said.

,, Well, maybe if you used the time we had for figuring everything out, instead of talking with the dude over the Wokytoky, MAYBE we would do better’’ you laughed, as Mirio told you to fuck off.

After Mirio and Nejire left, you and Touya made your way to your apartment, still talking and laughing about the whole game.

The two of you played among us, teaming up against some randoms on a whole new level. He was sitting way too close to you, like there was no place on the couch at all. Of course, you didn’t mind that, but you would lie if you said that you could focus on the game fully.

,, You are so cute’’ Touya pointed when you killed someone in front of him, not even hiding the fact that you are teaming.

He was complimenting you and being touchy with you more then usual.

,, So, are you really into daddy kink?’’ you asked, as you remembered the first time you played together.

,,Maybe ‘’ Touya smirked, focused on the game.

,, Naughty naughtyyy’’ you laughed, killing some other crewmate.

Once you had enough of the game, the two of you ended up just chit chatting about some stupid things, still in the same position as you were in before. The only difference was that Touya was slowly caressing your skin.

,, You wanna sleep over ?’’ you asked, once you realized that it was getting really late.

,, Well, definitely not if I have to crash on this couch’’ he said, making you giggle quietly.

,, Ah, you know I wouldn’t let you sleep here.’’ You mumbled quietly, avoiding eye contact with him.

,, Awhh, is my little doll implying that I can share her bed with her ?’’ Dabi teased. His arm was wrapped around you, rubbing small circles on your right hip gently.

,, Maybe ?’’ you said, trying to focus on anything else than his hand playing around.

,, Anyway, doll, I want to ask you something’’ he muttered, stopping his movements suddenly. You changing your position to have a better look of him, was your answer to go on.

,, Do play a lot with other people online?’’ he asked. You blinked slowly, not sure if that’s really a question he wanted to spit out. It seemed like it would be something more important.

,, Uh, I’m usually playing with Nejire. Why ?’’ you replied, confusion written all over your face. At your surprise, Dabi wrapped his arms around you, forcing you onto his lap like you were a small and weightless playtoy.

,, You know, I don’t like sharing what’s mine. ‘’ he expressed, placing his both hands on your tights, moving them up and down slowly.

,, Yours ?’’ you weren’t sure what was going on, and you definitely didn’t expect that silly question to go this way.

,, Doll, you’ve been mine the moment you sent me your address. What I meant was, you’ve met me so easily, I sure hope you ain’t like that with everyone on the internet.’’ His voice was somehow even more deeper than usual, and maybe it’s weird, but the position you were in was lowkey turning you on.

Maybe the fact that his behavior changed so fast, maybe the fact that he wanted you all for himself .

,, Honesty, I never share my personal information online, since you never know who’s hiding on the other side, but there was something about you. I just wanted to stay in contact with you’’ you responded, playing with your fingers like a lost child.

Instead of replying, he placed his hands on your cheek, pulling you slowly into a kiss, which you accepted gladly. It was the first time you felt such huge attraction for someone, and you were more than happy to give him anything he wants.

Maybe it’s weird to feel such a thing for someone you didn’t know that well, but everyone starts somewhere, right ?

His hands were going up and down your waist, lips never leaving your own. The moment you put your arms up, helping him remove the shirt you were wearing, you felt him smirk into the kiss. Once your shirt was off, he leaned back into the couch, having a better view of you, half naked sitting in his lap.

His right hand was playing with the strap of your bra, and the other one was holding you on his lap firmly. To him, you were the most beautiful little thing that he placed his eyes on, and he was more than grateful that you didn’t freak out because of his small confession.

You couldn’t wait anymore. Bending over, you connected your lips with his own again. His hands moved to your ass, giving it one good squeeze, before he got a firmer grip of you, pushing you up with himself and making his way to your bedroom.

Once he placed you on your bed, he took his shirt of, throwing it somewhere on the floor, as he climbed on top of you. All you could do was close your eyes and moan quietly once you felt his lips on your neck, sucking and biting it gently.

His lips were moving down, from your neck to your chest. From your chest to your stomach, leaving wet love bites on his way down.

Once he got so low, that he was almost between your legs, he unbuttoned your pants slowly, pulling your panties just a little bit down to leave kisses down there.

After few kisses, he gave you a sign to push your hips up a bit, and you did so. The moment you did it, Touya pulled your pants, together with your underwear down, leaving you in nothing else than your bra.

,, Take of your bra’’ he commanded, as he got lost between your legs. You wanted to do it, you really did, but once you felt his tongue on your pussy, you weren’t capable to even think straight, yet to remove your bra.

He was sucking and biting your clit, like no one ever before, making you throw your head back into your pillow as you enjoyed what he was giving you. You cradled your hands into his hair, as you felt thousand things at the same time. You’ve never desired someone so much, and the fact that the person you desired like no one else in your whole life was between your legs eating you out, was driving you crazy on a whole new level.

Dabi felt the same, it was the very first time he felt pleasure while he ate someone out, he was craving you like a mad man.

His tongue was doing wonders to you, and the moment you felt his finger slowly enter you, you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to get control over yourself.

,, Gotta loosen up my doll a little bit’’ he mumbled, savoring your pussy. The way he ate you out was getting sloppier and sloppier. Once he added another finger, your grip on is hair got stronger, giving him a sign that it hurts a bit.

,, Baby, how will you take my dick if you ain’t capable of taking ony two fingers ?’’ he looked up, smirking at you. Once you gave him a weak nod, he started moving his fingers in and out of you, slowly, giving you time to adjust.

Once he heard you moan, he started moving his fingers a little faster, as he started to rub your clit with his other hand.

,,Oh god’’ you moaned loudly, as pleasure took all over your body. Your orgasm hit you pretty unexpectedly, making you hide your face with your hands in embarrassment. You never came so quickly.

He definitely knows what’s he doing. None of your ex boyfriends made you cum so fast. All they did was simply missionary sex, with no talk at all. Few humps and done.

,, Open your mouth’’ Touya commanded, not giving you a chance to understand what was going on and why he wanted you to open your mouth for him. You felt two wet and sticky fingers rub your lips. You couldn’t even open your mouth fully, as he already shoved his two fingers in it.

,, Suck’’ grabbing your hands with his own and pushing them down, he had to see you, even tho he knew very well how embarrassed you felt in that moment.

Of course you did as he told you, as he held your chin, forcing you to look right at him as you cleaned his fingers that just pleasured you.

,, Such a good girl’’ Touya said, caressing your cheek gently, before he pulled his fingers out of your mouth, trying to free his throbbing dick out of the pants.

,, Didn’t I tell you to take your bra off ?’’ he asked, smirk forming on his lips. ,, Oh, so you don’t like to follow daddys orders ?’’ he added, climbing on top of you.

,, I ..’’ you didn’t even know what you wanted to say, you honestly forgot that you even had your bra on. Instead of saying anything, Touya only laughed, flipping you on your stomach, as he unclipped your bra in one movement.

,, I really wanted to be gentle with you, but if you are not capable in following small orders what will happen later with the big ones?’’ he asked, kissing the back of your neck slowly. You weren’t sure what to say, for you, that wasn’t a big deal, and honestly you didn’t know much about daddy kink.

,, Sorry daddy’’ you said, closing your eyes. It felt weird to call him daddy, but now that you knew that he likes it, you did it anyway.

,, Sorry doesn’t help doll. Daddy has to fuck you into obedience’’ he said, pulling the lower part of your body up. He took a good look of you, before he started rubbing the tip of his dick around your core. The view of you, with your ass up made his dick twitch, and he couldn’t wait anymore.

He shoved his dick into you with one move, forcing your body to move away from him out of the reflex. But Touya wasn’t buying that, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking you back.

,, You good?’’ He asked. You could hear concern in his voice, and you found it really cute how he suddenly changed.

,, Yes, that was hot ‘’ you said embarrassed, glad he was not facing you.

,, Good, because I ain’t stopping’’ with that, he started rocking his hips into you, as he pulled your head back, hand still holding your hair keeping you in the place he wanted you to be in.

So much about the concern.

,, So fucking tight’’ he groaned, as he fucked fast and hard into you, making your bed crack with every move. You found yourself moaning louder then before, it felt like he was forcing every moan out of you with every snap of his hips against your own.

The moment you felt his fingers on your clit, your walls squeezed around him. Once again embarrassed that you are so close, so fast.

,, Oh nah, you ain’t gonna cum yet’’ he whispered in your ear, leaving your clit and grabbing your hips with his both hands.

,, Ehhh pleaseeee, please daddy’’ you moaned, pushing the embarrassment away.

,, Baby, If you cum now, I’ll make sure you cum at least two more times before I finish you want it or not’’ he said, stopping his movements. Usually, when you had sex you were lucky if you could orgasm even once, since the guys only thought about themselves. You weren’t really sure if you could do it for him. You weren’t sure if you were capable to do it at all.

,, I’ll take that as yes’’ Touya laughed, moving his hips suddenly, his hand back on your clit and rubbing it so fast that he literally forced the orgasm he stopped few moments ago.

You moaned loudly, losing the power in your body. If Touya wasn’t holding you, you would definitely just fall down. He moved his hips slowly, making sure your orgasm lasts long enough for you to see the stars.

Once he was sure you are done, he flipped you over onto your back, spreading your legs with his hands, as he gave you one passionate kiss. You were too focused on the kiss, not realizing that he entered you again, only to realized it once he started moving again.

He was fucking you like there was no tomorrow, not breaking the kiss at all. You could feel his dick hitting your cervix with every move. You found yourself wrapping your arms around him, trying to find some comfort while he fucked the light out of you.

,, Come on baby, cum for your daddy’’ he groaned, enjoying how tightly your walls were squeezing him in that moment.

,, I can’t, oh my god, I really can’t ‘’ you whined, digging your nails into his skin, as he once again started playing with your clit. You felt both pain and pleasure while played with it, forcing the third orgasm out of you.

,, Of course you can, look at you, such a good girl’’ This time he didn’t slow down, letting you enjoy it, instead he was fucking you even harder and faster then before, making the orgasm that hit you almost painful, but yet still good and pleasurable.

With every move he did, you dag your nails deeper into the flesh of his back, moaning loudly not giving a single fuck if your neighbors could hear you or not.

,, One more baby’’ Touya groaned, hitting your g spot all over again. ,, Only one more baby, you can do it ‘’ he added as he rocked his hips against yours. You were so fucking sensitive, that you literally felt every vein of his dick rubbing against your walls. Maybe you were imagining, but it felt like you could literally feel the shape of his whole dick inside you, every inch of it.

He was fucking you in a reckless pace, once again rubbing your clit, while telling you how you’re such a good girl for him and how you’re gonna milk his cock so nicely. Once Touya felt that he was close, once he realized that he won’t last much longer, he started rubbing your clit with more pressure, forcing himself even more into you then before.

,, Come on baby, cum all over my cock’’ he groaned, as you moaned loudly. The moment he forced your last orgasm out of you, he groaned loudly as he was chasing his own high, painting your walls white with his seed.

The moment he came, he slowed down, still not stopping his movements completely. Fucking his seed deep into you. Because of the fact that you came fucking four times, and that he shoot loads and loads of his own seed into you, you were almost sure that you were already leaking on your bed.

,, Are you okay?’’ Touya asked, placing soft kissed on your neck, while his dick was still inside of you. ,, Did I go too far ?’’ he added, once he realized that you aren’t answering.

,, Oh god no, this was amazing’’ you whispered, tilting your head to the side. Touya kissed you, not being able to hold his smile at all. After the kiss, he wore his boxers and made his way to your bedroom, only to come back moments later with a warm towel.

After he cleaned you up, he helped you wear your panties, giving you his shirt instead of your own, before the two of you fall asleep in each others arms.

In that moment, you felt grateful for existence of that silly game where you met this handsome stranger. Who would have thought that Amongus can be a better match maker than Tinder.

You sure didn’t.

[the-ethereal-lorestar]

Writeblr Intro

I already have a writing Tumblr account, but it’s mixed together with art and other stuff, but it’s not centered on a Writeblr account. My brain refuses to acknowledge things that aren’t cut and dry, so I made a whole new Tumblr account focused around the Writeblr community. I wasn’t really active in it with my writing, and art Tumblr account. So, I’m still new to the Writeblr community.

Please feel free to Tag me, send me asks, message me about your characters, WIPS, book recs, etc. I’m happy to receive, and talk about them!

My name is Jessica. I can be referred to as Jess, or as my common persona on the internet, Soul (from SoulGalaxyWolf). I’m 25 with she/they pronouns and I pursued a creative writing degree with a minor in studio art for most of my college years until I had to transfer to a local university—transfer into an English degree, due to financial reasons. The same reasons that force me to not complete my last semester I need to take to finish.

I have bad social anxiety, and it’s challenging for me to interact with an online community. I’m going to try, though. I have a strong desire to interact with more writers. I have problems with motivation and discipline, too. I’m not diagnosed with any mental disorders (officially?), but I have been told I have depression by therapists, so that might be a challenge for me as well to interact with this community.

My main goal is to interact with the community and talk to other people about writing over my own work, but I would like to do progress stuff of my current main WIP. Since the first time I made this post I haven’t been all that successful. I’m going to work on that.  

A common question I would hear is what started it all? I don’t recall specifically when I decided to do it professionally, but I do remember a core memory for what might’ve started it. TL;DR: I went passed a minimum word count for a writing assignment in third grade. The prompt was finding an egg underneath the bed. I remember enjoying how my classmates reacted to how much I wrote. I had a lot of fun writing from that prompt. It would be the only prompt that I could write from, lol. I have issues with them now.

What I mostly like to read and write is YA fantasy. I am interested in other subgenres of fantasy, but It’s hard to find interesting fantasy novel series without a recommendation. Also, all the fantasy books I could think of right now are YA fantasy’s, so I can’t think of other books I’ve read that weren’t YA fantasy.

Other genres I enjoy are paranormal, sci-fi, and historical fiction, and mystery/thriller/horror. It’s mostly a specific area of these genres: supernatural abilities (not much for vampires, but prefer interesting werewolf stories), books like “The Martian” for sci-fi, and victorian-esque(?) era, or steampunk for historical fiction. I’m interested in reading mythology and folklore stories, but haven’t looked or seen any.

If you have an obsession with genres within or outside my interests and would be super excited to talk about it, chat with me. I wanna be convinced, I wanna be pushed, and I want to be attacked by your interests in different and similar genres :)

My favorite tropes are found family, idiot1 and Idiot2, soulmates, villain redemption arcs, villain x hero, and more.

I only like romances as subplots. Only exceptions are probably two stories that’s on Wattpad. One is mxm, but it’s mostly because I kin hard on one character (Dear Uncle Vic from “I Kissed a Boy” series by rotXinXpieces).

My W.I.P:

The Siren with a Silent Voice: Another small town magical realism story. It also has a dark secret that is attached to the town that involves the families of the main characters. Probably incredibly similar to Into the Witch’s Town, but it goes to a different direction that’s more “adventure” fantasy then cozy fantasy. Currently have four chapters written on Wattpad, but haven’t worked on it for a while because I desperately need to plan it out. Plus, the first chapter is boring too me. :(

Into The Witch’s Town: A cottage core magical realism novella/novel. My protag, Zelmarie, or Faye/Zel, inherits her grandmother’s home in a small town filled with inhabitants that have as much of a strong personality as her grandmother did. I haven’t gotten far into the planning phase.

Connecting Souls: This story used to be my main, but I decided to stop working on it until I don’t get so overwhelmed with world building-- I want to make my own world to set most of my stories in. "Connecting Souls” is about a girl that has trust issues who is thrown into a different world then her own. Her family was taken from her, so she has to navigate the world while struggling to trust her traveling companions. Themes include trust, found family, and trauma. I decided to work on something that I could realistically accomplish for now, so this is in the back burner.

[Working Title]: I also have a story I’m writing with a friend. I don’t really have a title to include, but it’s about experiments on magical races by humans. One is a race I made, and my friends character is a race that he made. We haven’t worked on it in a while, but I’m trying to work on some stuff towards it.

That’s it. Interact with this post if ya interested. Have a great day, you guys :3c

[gay-kurapika]

I definitely didn’t appreciate it enough at the time because it was a twice weekly 5 hour biology lab and I was an exhausted full time college student with a job who was barely scraping by, but I actually took the coolest class in college and I wish I’d had more time and energy for it. The whole concept was it was a research project where we would learn a lot about plant genealogy, then we’d hike out to an aspen tree forest and collect samples of the leaves from a lot of different trees, then do a test to see which trees had interconnecting root systems and were “children” of a bigger parent tree and map out the forest in terms of which trees are related to each other and which aren’t so we could see how the root systems travel really far and that a lot of an aspen forest is actually just a few really big organisms. I feel like now I would have more patience for that and would honestly be thrilled to take it again, but at the time I was always exhausted and 10 hours a week plus the homework and the paper I had to write for it was just a lot on top of a full honors course schedule where I was already ahead in math and history and taking the really hard classes early, and I didn’t need to take any art classes because I’d finished those in high school, so I didn’t really have any breaks. Even my minor in creative writing wasn’t a break because I cared a lot about it and so I put in a lot of effort for those classes. I guess gender studies was a break bc I didn’t argue much but the teacher was a straight cis woman and when I told her “some lesbians like to be called a husband and don’t use feminine pronouns” during a discussion about gender, she hated me for the rest of the semester so it stopped being relaxing. I wasn’t misgendering anyone I was basically explaining non-binary lesbian to her lol, and I wasn’t the only non-binary person in the class. And the only other art class I could take was “world music” which sounds like it would be fun but they changed the book you had to buy every single year so you couldn’t get it used and had to pay like $100 for it, attendance was part of your grade, and I’ve got to be honest as much as I love music I wasn’t getting the point of listening to what sounded like ambient noise and then having to write an emotional response without knowing the cultural context of why that was music, like is it part of a religion or a ceremony or something? Bc otherwise this sounds like drums.

[atlafan]

could u maybe write something ab harry and the reader reuniting after taking a break for a while 🥺 just something a lil angsty and fluffy

a/n: oh wow, I’ve actually been wanting to write something about this for a little bit, let’s see what I can whip up! Less angst in this than I thought, but super fluffy. Hope you liked it! This is an au, so ya boy’s not famous. 

New York to London

It wasn’t easy, but you both decided to take some time apart. You both just graduated from college, and you needed to figure out what you were doing for jobs. If you needed to move somewhere for work, neither of you wanted to hold the other back. You were in love, but you were still so young. If it was meant to be, it would happen, right? 

You ended up in New York. You loved clothes and fashion. Were a marketing major with a minor in art. You found yourself living in a cozy apartment on the upper east side, working remotely for a clothing app. You got to design and select outfits for people. It was sort of like Stitch Fix. Working from home allowed you to fill up your sketch books with design ideas of your own. Sometimes you would go out and work from the local coffee shop, just to have a change of scenery, of course making sure to buy coffee and food in exchange for the free wifi. 

You and Harry agreed not to really talk, or fill each other in what you were doing. Neither of you wanted to fall into the “please, just come move here with me” trap. You weren’t entirely sure what he was doing, or if he had decided to go back to London altogether. You missed him, and it was a good relationship, but it had definitely run its course. You were with him for two years, you did a lot of growing up together, but you were never certain if he was the man of future. 

Six months into your job, you had started making friends in the city. You found time to go out and enjoy the night life when you could. You had even gone on a few dates here and there, a couple of one night stands when you were sick of using your own devices to get off. Things a lot of young, twenty-somethings did. One day, out of the blue, you got a text from your ex-boyfriend. 

Harry: hi love, is it okay if I still call you that? lol...anyways, I’m in NYC for a few days...work thing...would love to see you if you’re up for it...xx

You take a deep breath when you see the text. You hate the way it makes your heart flutter. You ended up dating Harry in the first place because he always had this way of making you nervous, but in a good way. You always had butterflies around him, and you always found it hard to say no. You were genuinely curious to see how he was doing, and what exactly he did for work, so after waiting precisely twenty minutes, you decide to text him back. 

You: hey! course it’s okay ;p I’d love to catch up! dinner and a drink sound good? 

Harry: sounds great, name the time and place

You and Harry decide to meet up at a restaurant near his hotel that Friday night. You didn’t want to go to some tourist trap, but you knew of a nice place near where he was staying. You made sure to look your best, maybe remind him a bit of what he was missing. You knew he’d do the same. You put on your best little black dress, put your hair up into a sleek high pony, and put on some makeup. You grabbed a pair of red pumps for a pop of color, and into your uber you went. 

It was a nice, spring evening. It was getting warmer out, so you only needed a light jacket along with your dress. You wait in the lobby of the restaurant for him. 

“Y/N?” 

You’d know the sound of his voice anywhere. You turn around and smile. He was almost shocked, you had never looked better. He looked nice. Blue pair of slacks, white button up with the first few undone, and a salmon pink sport coat. Classic Harry. 

“Hi!” 

You wrap your arms around his neck and give him a kiss on the cheek. 

“You look great.” He says, blushing slightly. 

“Thanks, so do you. I put a reservation in for us online. Wanna see if the table’s ready?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” 

He puts his hands in his pockets and follows you up to the hostess. She checks you both in and leads you to your table a few minutes later. 

“Come here a lot?” He asks as he sits down.

“Sometimes. Been here with some friends.” 

You take your jacket off and hang it on the back of your chair. He gets a really good eye full of you. He smiles when he sees you wearing the necklace he had gotten you for your last birthday. 

“So, you’re in the city for work?”

“Yup, I’m an admissions counselor for a small school up in New Hampshire. I got hired to do a lot of the traveling, so I’m rarely on campus.” 

“Oh, that’s cool. Where else do you travel to?”

“Mostly the state of New York and Massachusetts.” 

“What made you-”

“Hi folks, I’m Max, I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start either of you off with a drink?” 

“I’d love a glass of pinot noir please.” You smile.

“Just a Corona for me, thanks.”

“Excellent, I’ll be back in a few minutes with those.” He smiles and walks away.

“Anyways, what made you want to become an admissions counselor?”

“I get to travel with all expenses paid. I really had no idea what I wanted to do after I graduated, so this gives me more time to figure it out. I can explore the various places I go to. S’not like I’m tied down, right?” He jokes.

“Right.” 

He clears his throat.

“So, it seems like the city’s treating you well.” 

“Very well!” You chuckle. “I love it so much. I get to work remotely too, so no one really bothers me, which is great. I’m able to work on my sketches in my down time.”

“Yeah, you’re working for like a clothing subscription service?”

“Mhm, it’s awesome. I love getting to know my clients and all that.” 

“You seem happy.”

“I am. I feel really independent.” 

The waiter comes back over with your drinks. You end up ordering a salad with some grilled shrimp, while Harry opts for a veggie burger. You clink your glasses together.

“So, it’s okay that I texted right?” 

“Of course! I think I’d be a little upset if I knew you were so close by and didn’t even think to say hi.”

“I’ve wanted to reach out for a while, but...I know you said you wanted some space.”

“Well, we both agreed on that.” 

“I guess.” He shrugs. 

“Did we not?” 

“No, we did. I guess all I mean is...I don’t know...takin’ a break has just been weird, that’s all.” 

Before you can respond, your food is brought over. The conversation lightens up a bit as you eat. Harry really enjoys the food. Towards the end, he insists that he pays. You eventually agree to just split the bill. 

“Wanna come see my place? I think you’ll like it, it’s cozy.” 

“Sure! Thought I’d have to work a little harder for you to invite me back with you.” He smirks.

“Oh, stop it.” You swat an arm at him. 

The uber ride back to your place is quiet. He was impressed by the building you were in. He couldn’t believe you could afford such a nice place. 

“So, it’s a studio, but it’s not cramped.” You show him inside. “Like, I can stretch out in the shower.” You giggle. “Got really creative with the storage too.”

“View makes it all worth it, huh?” 

“Yeah, it’s beautiful.” You both look out the window together. “Sit, sit. What can I get for you? I have more wine, and some beers int he fridge.”

“Beer’s fine, thanks.” 

He sits down on your small couch while you get the drinks together. You come back over and him a beer.

“Thanks.”

“Sure.” You take a sip of your wine. “So, do you, like, have an apartment in New Hampshire?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a small place to call home when I’m not traveling.”

“That’s good.”

“Mhm.” He takes a sip of his drink. “Can I ask you something...sort of personal?”

“Um, sure.”

“You haven’t been, like, hooking up have you?” 

“What?”

“Because I haven’t.”

“I never told you not to.”

“So, does that mean you have?”

“Harry...we’re not together, we’re broken up.” You frown and so does he. 

“A break is different from a break up, though, right?”

“We agreed to end things so we could go off and find our career paths. I mean, I think about you a lot, but I guess I didn’t really think we’d actually get back together. It’s been six months, Harry.”

“I know...”

“I mean, I’m not seeing anyone. I’ve had a few dates here and there, but nothing serious. I don’t really have time for it.” 

“Me neither...I guess the only difference is I haven’t wanted to even be with anyone else, random or not.” 

“I find that very hard to believe.” You scoff. “If there was a day I couldn’t see you, you’d tell me how touch starved you were.”

“That’s true, but it was your touch I was starved for, no one else’s. You know me, I was never the hook up guy as it was. It’s gross.” He takes another sip of his drink. “Do you always hook up with different people or-”

“No.” 

He nods his head.

“How many have there been?”

“What does it matter?” 

“Just wondering if I need to catch up or something.” He scoffs. 

“Harry, we never agreed on not hooking up with other people, we never even talked about it.”

“Because I just assumed we wouldn’t! Don’t you miss me?” 

“I miss being in college and having zero responsibilities.” You sigh. “I try not to think about what I miss about you too much. And no offense, but I’ve actually begun a career. You’re still figuring things out. It wouldn’t good if we tried to get back together right now. I like living alone, and-”

“Alright, I get it, you’re better off without me.” He rolls his eyes.

“That’s not what I meant.” You put your hand on his shoulder, but he shrugs it away. 

“Do you think I like not being good enough? I’d give you the world if I could, but I literally have zero idea what I’m passionate about. I feel like I wasted four years of my life. Now when I talk with these kids on where they want to go to school and the reasons they want to go...” He shakes his head. 

“You’re a people person, you’ve always been that way. You have a stage presence to you. A room lights up when you walk in.”

“S’not exactly a transferable skill, love.” 

“You’ll figure it out, Harry. I know you will.” 

//

A year or so later you heard from a mutual friend that Harry moved back to London. He had gone off into the world of PR, and he was thriving. Your job had lead you to some opportunities to go to London, they had even asked you if you wanted to relocate there. Many of the clothing lines they had were exported from there, and they wanted you more on the buying team since you had such a great eye. You said you’d consider it and go for a visit to check things out. You and Harry hadn’t talked much since he had seen you in New York, but you wanted to pay him the same courtesy he given you. 

You: Hey, Harry! It’s Y/N...I’m coming to London next week for a work thing. Might even be relocating there! I was wondering if you’d like to get together. Maybe you can tell me how great the city is, lol

You had deleted the text about five times before actually hitting send. Two hours later he got back to you. 

Harry: Did you think I deleted your number?! Of course I know it’s you! That sounds great, let me just check over my schedule with my assistant and I’ll get back to you on when would work. 

You: wow, an assistant, how fancy are you? 

Harry: she keeps my head on straight, that’s for sure

You: well, I’m looking forward to seeing you...it’s been too long!

Harry: I agree

And just like that, you had butterflies in your stomach. You hoped maybe he was single, but you wouldn’t be surprised if he was seeing someone. He was a girlfriend guy, and you had basically told him you weren’t getting back together last time you spoke. 

You were given a wonderful tour of the office you’d potentially be working in. Everyone seemed friendly, and you certainly wouldn’t be the only American working there if you decided to accept. 

Towards the end of the week, Harry invited you over for a dinner at his flat. You were surprised he didn’t want to go out. Maybe you’d be starting at his flat and then go to a club? You were dying to see how the London night life compared to New York’s. You take a cab to his flat and text him when you’re there. He comes downstairs to meet you outside. 

“Harry!” You practically squeal. You wrap your arms around each other for a nice embrace. “It’s so good to see you!”

“It’s good to see you too. Driver found the place okay?”

“Mhm.” You smile.

“Come on up. Just got dinner on the table.” 

He leads you upstairs. Your jaw drops when you see how spacious his flat is. It was a one bedroom with a nice open concept. It looked like he entertained quite often. He had a bar set up in the living area. 

“This is beautiful.”

“Thanks. Figured I could afford a nice place, why not have one?” He shrugs. 

You use his hall bath to freshen up. He has you sit down at his dining table. He had made curry. 

“This smells so good, thanks so much for cooking.”

“I figured you’d enjoy a real meal after eating out all week.”

“You figured right, thank you.”

“Oh stop.” He sits down. “Just eat, yeah?” 

You moan after tasting the food.

“This is delicious.”

“Thanks.” He smirks. “So, do you think you really might move here?”

“I might, yeah. It seems like a really big step up for me.”

“No one back in New York to miss you?”

“Nope.” You grin. “Other than the few friends I’ve made.” You shrug. “My family is really supportive too.”

“That’s great. I’m really glad I came home. I feel like once I did the opportunities came flying in. I love PR. I make phone calls, set up events. And I get to meet so many cool people.” 

“And you have an assistant.” You chuckle.

“S’not what you think. She’s not some young thing that’s enthralled with me. She’s like forty years old, has a couple of kids that don’t need her home with them anymore. She’s a great help though. I actually requested someone a little older.”

“Why’s that?”

“Some of the younger girls in the interview, when they actually came to speak with me, I don’t know, I just kept getting this weird vibe.” 

“It’s because you’re so captivating. You’re intimidating, but charming.” You take another bite of food. “Sexy.” 

“Oh, gimme a break.”

“I’m serious! You always made me feel nervous when we first started talking. You would always really sit back and observe the room before talking. You can be quiet sometimes. But that was you then, that’s just a version of you that I know, you could be different now.”

“I’d like to think so. Although, I think I’m just a good listener. I definitely like reading a room before I join a conversation.” 

“I’m so happy to see you doing well.” You take a sip of your drink. “So...any lucky ladies or fellas in your life?” 

“No.” He laughs. “M’way too busy for all that. I mean...I’ve had some fun here and there, I’m not celibate.” He takes a sip of his own drink. “What about you?”

“Nothing serious.” You shrug. “I haven’t minded being focused on my career, you know? I have a good work-life balance, don’t get me wrong, but like if I were in a relationship right now, I may not be making this move.” 

“Tell me, if I didn’t live here would you still consider moving?”

“I don’t know. It’s a huge plus knowing I’d have someone close by, someone I know to show me around. If you had the time of course. You could even tell me what the good neighborhoods to live in are.” 

“You could get a flat here. It’s a really nice building to be in. I bet you’d be able to afford it if I can. They want you to be a buyer?”

“Yeah, my boss thinks I have a great eye, and I always get the highest ratings from my clients.” 

“That’s wonderful. I’m happy for you. I know last time we saw each other it didn’t seem like it, but I was really confused about the direction my life was going. I wasn’t happy.”

“You’re happy now?”

“Very much.”

“Good.” You put your hand over his. “It’s all I ever wanted for you, to be the best version of yourself.” 

“Same here with you.” He rubs his thumb over the back of your hand. “I got some chocolate covered strawberries for dessert. Wanna move to the sofa?”

“Sure!” 

You both sit down on his large sectional. You dive into the sweet treat. 

“Do you entertain a lot?”

“Sometimes, yeah. I like it better than going to some stuff club. You can be out until four in the morning if you’re not careful.” He laughs. 

“Well, I’d love for you to take me out to a club sometime.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice, love. I’ll take any excuse to dance with you.” His dimple peeks out in his grin, and it makes you melt. “When do you have to give them your decision by?”

“A few days. I’m headed back to New York tomorrow night.” 

“How’s your hotel been?”

“It’s nice...not as cozy as this though.” You lean back into the cushions and look up at him. 

“Yeah, I definitely don’t miss that about working in admissions. Different hotels all the time sounds like fun, but when you just wanna do your laundry and you can’t, it gets old really quick.” 

“I can imagine.” You make a bold move and rest your hand on his knee. This time when you touch him he doesn’t shrug you away. “I think I may move here. I can home here and you can cook for me all the time, or you could bring me to your fancy parties.”

“Is that so?” He scoots a little closer to you. “It would get some people at the company off my back. They’re always askin’ why I never have a date to anything.” 

“And why don’t you?”

“I don’t know, I’m there to work, not bring arm candy with me.” 

“Ah, but that arm candy can help you network. I’m impeccable at networking.”

“Alright, so you’ll be my date then when I need one, is that what you’re saying?”

“That’s what I’m saying.” You smile. 

“What about when there’s no fancy party? Can I call you for a date?” 

“I’d like that.”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?” 

“Can I please kiss you?” 

You nod yes. He leans in, cups your cheeks, and presses his lips to yours. They were soft, just like you remember. He takes them away a little too quickly for your liking though. 

“What’s wrong?” You frown.

“I just don’t wanna, like, rush this, that’s all. I don’t even know what this is, but whatever it is, I don’t wanna mess it up this time.”

“Harry, you never messed anything up. We did the right thing before. I think we’re both in a place where we could have room to be together again. But, I think you’re right, one step at a time. Let me actually accept the job and move here before we dive into anything.”

“Exactly.” He sighs happily. “Okay, I’m gonna kiss you again, and then I’ll drive you to your hotel.” 

You giggle as he smooches you again and again. Harry never really ever stopped loving you, and you could tell. You never really ever stopped loving him either. 

[taeyamayang]

Congratulations on 200!!! If you’re not swamped with matchups id love one of a boy please :) my name is tory she/her. Heres a little blurb of me

Enfp tho i consider myself an ambivert. I’m level headed during arguments, i love parties but also down to chill at home, i thrive in summer (barefoot in nature type of person), creative writing major and philosophy minor, and i love to cuddle whether it be my friends or s/o (esp when drunk lol). ive been told i give great advice bc im unbiased and openminded.

I’m attracted to confident people that would take the lead in a relationship despite that I’m not shy, I definitely get flustered easily if i like them (if im not interested I’m v good at flirting tho)

If you’re too busy feel free to skip me, and make sure you take care of yourself! Xx

i am pairing you withㅡIwaizumi Hajime

↬ confident, attractive, would take the lead in a relationship, and would spoil you with love and affection? there is only man,, iwa best boy!! although we can see in the series how he often grills oikawa with his sassy remarks and playful insulting nicknames but i think it's his way of telling oiks to stay out of trouble. he is deep down affectionate and maube a little tease mmm but ugh, i love him for that,, am i whipped for him? YES OF COURSE I AM. joking aside, i think your personality and his' balance each other out. i can see iwa being comfortable with parties or going out to meet new people but he can also chill at home and hangout. im also guessing he knows how to handle difficult situations maturely.

"when are we leaving?" you say, burrying your face against your friend's arm as you cuddle her side. your arms are looped together and your fingers are intertwine with her hand. it seems like your physical affection increases by the amount of shots you bottom up.

"let's enjoy the night! but i promise you we will will leave before 3am." your friend ruffles your hair.

"you always say that but you never stick to your promise!" you swat her hand off away from your head before running your fingers through the tangled hair strands.

some of your friends are on the dancefloor while you're here hammered by the amount of alcohol you drank tonight. fortunately, one of your friends is not in the mood to grind with strangers so she chose to stay with you as you wait for soberity to take over your system. she nears her mouth to your ears.

"i need to go to the restroom. ill be back quick." she uncoils her fingers around your hand and leaves you alone. the absence of her warmth made you curl to your side. you hand lands on your stomach and you instantly feel the stiffness of it beneath your touch.

the cushion dips at the weight of the person sitting next to you. you turn around with your eyes shut, your temples hurting from the blaring lights from the stage in contrast with the dimmed corner where you at.

your arms gently brushes against a skin, assuming that it is your friend. you arms instinctively snakes around her limb. your nails trace her skin from her forearm down to where her hands are. you unravel her coiled fingers with the use of the tip of your digits before sliding it down between the cracks of his fingers.

"my stomach is so stiff but i dont feel sick." you give her hand a gentle squeeze before placing your head on her shoulder.

"at least you kept your promise tonight. that was a quick restroom break." your thumb caresses on her skin in a back and forth manner. you hear her say something but the music is too loud for you to decipher her words.

"what?" you pull her down by the sleeve of her shirt so your mouth nears her ear.

pause.

a shirt.

.... you pulled her by the shirt.

your friend is wearing a tank top.

you immediately shoot up to straighten your back as the realization crosses your mind. albeit, you hands still linked together. you peer at the man next to you. he has dark hair and sharp eyes. his nose is straight and his lips are thin yet rosy. his cheeks are tinted in red possibly because of the alcohol. your eyes widen when his eyes met yours.

"tory!" your friend, that is standing in shock, calls for your attention. her presence confirms that you are not hallucinating. it's not the alcohol playing tricks on you.

you just cuddled a complete stranger. well, at least he's hot?

you pull your hand away from him as your mouth falls ajar. contrary to you, the man pulls a smirk. his tongue poking at the side of his cheeks as he looks at you. amusement paints his face and his eyes held a knowing look. you can feel your stomach doing turning.

"iwaizumi hajime." he tells you. he inches his face next to you as the music drops the beat making the people on the dancefloor cheer louder.

"your secret is safe with me." his breath fans against your sensitive skin. his scent is a mix of perfume, whiskey, and sweat. a few strands of his hair strokes against the side of your face. he pulls back to look at you. his smirk widens at the your frozen stature. you try to think of words to counter but no words left your mouth.

a/n: i accidentally deleted my post an hour ago so i have to rewrite this whole thing :( this isn't exactly how i written it before but the plot is still the same :) ugh im dailing the universe to order my own version of iwaizumi please (・_・ヾ lmao i hope you enjoy this!! thanks for joining the event ♡

[kuriquinn]

A Tender Harvest [one-shot]

Disclaimer

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25994254

Pairing: SasuSaku

Summary:  Sakura and Sasuke help a village with their apple harvest, and Sasuke thinks about his relationship with Sakura. The thing about traveling together is it makes it that much easier to fall in love.

Author’s Note: So, I wrote this for the fanzine Seasons like a year or two ago and then completely forgot that it existed? And then I was trying to organize the mess that is my writing files and stumbled upon it again and figured, hey, why not post it? Especially since we’re coming up on Fall again lol. (Also, I don’t want people thinking I’m dead or something. I am working on some stuff for SasuSaku, but the creative juices haven’t been flowing as easily as they used to for this fandom…or, well, any fandom if I’m being honest. Kind of stuck in one of those “I should be writing original stuff” funks that hinders all of my fanfic efforts of late. But I am trying!)

Anyway, so here’s something (sort of) new for your enjoyment!

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Sasuke curses at the sudden lancing pain in his hand and yanks his arm out of the foliage to glare at his palm. In the centre, a wasp sticks to his skin by the stinger, its tiny wings and appendages flailing to remove itself. Sasuke gives a harsh flick of his wrist, dislodging the insect and sending it flying off somewhere near the ground.

He doesn’t kill it; if there is a nest nearby that would attract others, and there are enough of the little pests buzzing around the trees as it is.

It is early October, the hot autumn sun unimpaired except for some light haze and few bulbous white clouds in the distance. Crickets chirp, and the scent of wet earth inundates the air, mingling with sweat and the distant smell of a brush fire.

The little village where Sasuke and Sakura have been staying the last few days has an economy based largely around produce. Their apple trees, vineyards and rice fields require rigorous tending, as the yield is what keeps them from starving during winter months. They plant a lot, which means they harvest a lot, and any extra hands are welcome. Originally, Sakura and Sasuke travelled here because there was a need for a healer, but they chose to stay and help.

That’s a common enough pattern these days. Sakura keeps an ear out for places that need extra medical attention, and Sasuke fills his days with odd work. The routine is also an excellent cover for gathering information. People rarely ask them questions, too thankful for Sakura’s medical skills, and even without them, Sasuke’s arm usually discourages comment. There were enough men and women badly wounded in the war that no one needs to ask.

It also lends credence to his and Sakura’s wandering, since many people’s homes were destroyed by the war; first by the Zetsu army, and then marauders in the aftermath.

And we’ve encountered quite a few of those, too. Some friendly, some…not.

While Sakura makes house calls, he helps in whatever field where they need him. There were initially some who looked uncertain of his ability be useful, but he soon showed that his missing arm was barely a handicap.

Today he works in the apple orchard. It’s fairly large, maybe twenty acres, and there are a hundred or so people working alongside him. Clumps of men and women are scattered throughout, picking and packing apples in large baskets. A similar number of people sit just beyond the orchard, slumped or lying on the ground, or gathered around the few wagons with water. A few children squeeze into the tiny bit of shade provided by the wagons, but in this heat there’s barely any point to it.

The only ones happy in this weather are the wasps, Sasuke decides, frowning at his palm to see if the stinger is still attached. It’s not, but the skin is already beginning to puff up from the venom.

He shrugs it off—it’s not his first injury of the day, and he’s endured much worse in his life—and goes back to twisting the gleaming red fruits off their branches. It’s uncomfortable, but he finds he’s more irritated by the sweat drenching his clothing than the minor wound.

The orchard workers have had to work in shifts because of the rising temperature, and because Sakura insists that everyone who works needs to stay properly hydrated.

Sakura…

Sasuke became aware of her proximity about a half an hour ago, obviously finished with her work in the village and now arrived to help. Since then he has been vaguely conscious of her bringing people water or traipsing into the orchard to retrieve anyone who she thinks looks tired. No one bothers to protest the way she’s taken charge, either, and though it could be her status as a respected healer, he somehow doubts that’s the reason.

He remembers what she was like back in Konoha, carrying out important errands for Kakashi and running the hospital.

As always, on the tail of that thought he experiences a half-second of guilt for having taken one of their village’s most important resources on a mission of indeterminate length. The second half-second he buries that feeling, reminding himself it was her choice.

And he has no intention of admitting it out loud, but he can’t imagine how the past few months would have been without her by his side.

Well. He can imagine; he just doesn’t care to.

A bell rings in the distance, and someone shouts, “Break time! Change shifts!”

There are groans all around—relief from the orchard workers, and resignation from the vicinity of the wagons.

Sasuke ignores the call, intending to finish filling his basket before heading in, but even as he reaches for the next branch, there is a cough from down below.

When he glances down, he is unsurprised to find Sakura there, hands on her hips. “That means you too, Sasuke.”

“I’m almost finished.”

“No, you are finished. The foreman told me you started with the morning crew and didn’t switch out with the rest,” she informs him. “Just because you’re about the greatest shinobi alive, doesn’t mean you can’t get heatstroke. And just because I will take care of you if you get a fever and start throwing up everywhere, doesn’t mean I’ll like it.”

Sasuke’s mouth tugs upward a little.

It’s been an interesting dimension to their travels, Sakura speaking to him so frankly. There were a few days when they first set out together that she was still stuttering and wordlessly following his lead in everything; a few bandit encounters and a shouting match later, she found her backbone again.

Now, the only time he sees her flustered or nervous is because he’s caught her gazing at him, or when she realises she’s said something with unintended innuendo. 

“Annoying woman,” he murmurs into the tree, but the words have long since graduated from contempt to affection.

With an affected air of reluctance, he picks up the basket he was filling and raises an eyebrow at her. She grins, and says, “Come on.”

Sasuke trudges after her toward the nearest wagon, sets down his basket, and heads for the water barrels. Children pour it into cups for the workers, some darting among the amassing crowd to pass them out. This is how Sasuke ends up with one of them, and he is quick to put it to his lips.

He takes several slow mouthfuls, to minimize the risk of brain freeze, and takes pleasure in the way the liquid dissolves the dry, gummy feeling in his mouth and throat. The second cup he is offered, he pours over his head, enjoying the sensation of the cold rivulets cutting through his sweat-streaked hair and down his neck.

Sakura lingers nearby, the look on her face conveying an ‘I told you so’, which he patently ignores before joining the line for lunch. The women of the village pass out rice balls and beef skewers; he accepts gratefully, and then he searches out the nearest bit of shade he can.

There’s an old momiji tree several yards away from the larger group of workers, its leaves already turning red and gold, but still providing enough cover from the sun. He heads for that and is unsurprised when Sakura joins him.

As they pass, he notices people shooting them knowing glances or smiling in something like approval. Several young girls whisper conspiratorially. When he was younger, he would have purposely ignored such scrutiny, at times not even realising what the whispers meant. Though he still pretends obliviousness now, he now fully understands the reason for the unspoken interest.

The implication that he and Sakura are more than just travelling companions doesn’t bother him the way it might have before. In fact, he finds odd comfort in the thought. These days, they are on the cusp of something more, something inevitable. They’ll get there eventually, but he finds himself in no great hurry to do so.

Not because he doesn’t care for her—there’s no question that he does.

But too much of his life was spent hurtling from one state to the next, never content with his current existence and always wishing for more. With this—with Sakura—he wants to take his time and experience every moment.

He’s pretty sure Sakura is of the same mind.

As they sit, she sets down the plate she was balancing between her forearms, and two cups. He takes the latter, still more thirsty than hungry, and drinks deep.

Noticing his blink as a bitter taste hits his tongue, Sakura says, “There’s cold tea mixed in. That quenches thirst better than just water alone, and the electrolytes will keep you going.”

“Hm.”

They eat in companionable silence, yet another new quality to their relationship. Part of it is that now Sakura has an appetite that rivals his own and doesn’t like to waste time talking when she could be eating. The rest stems from the indescribably pull that has always existed between them, an ease one only experiences with the most trusted of kindred spirits. Words would mar that somehow, and neither seems willing to do that right away.

It is only when her meal is finished that Sakura reaches into her pack and produces—of course—two bright red apples.

“I may have snuck a few,” she admits with a smile.

Sasuke snorts. “You’re in an apple orchard. I think you could be forgiven.”

She laughs at that and bites into one of the fruits, making a tiny noise of pleasure at the flavour that has Sasuke swallowing uncomfortably. A rivulet of juice drips down her chin, and he finds himself tracking its progression.

Sakura notes his attention before he can look away, and her cheeks darken.

“Sorry!” she says, a little flustered, and puts aside the apple. “You probably want some too, right?”

There is something I want.

The thoughts present themselves unbidden as Sakura digs around in her kit for a knife, and starts to peel the second apple over her empty plate. His cheeks a little warmer than earlier, he looks away and pretends disinterest.

“Don’t trouble yourself. I haven’t even finished my lunch.”

“Then it will be ready when you are,” she quips without stopping.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watches her carefully dispose of the peel and then cut the apple into eight equal slices. Anyone else would think she was babying him, but he knows this is just her way. She genuinely enjoys doing this. He is, of course, perfectly able to cut up his own fruit, or eat an apple as is. But he doesn’t like apple peels, and never has.

He wonders when exactly Sakura noticed that about him.

She holds out the plate of apple slices to him, beaming, and he remembers a similar scene, many years ago. Of her worried and smiling face, her nervous chatter and her hand holding out a plate of apples. And then the clatter as the plate and fruit itself were knocked to the floor.

This time he accepts, forgetting that he hasn’t finished his lunch, and bites into the first slice. The white flesh is sweeter than the apples he usually eats—he prefers them tart and sour—but it’s perfectly in season and tastes good. 

Sakura’s lips part in surprise, and the motion causes him to nearly miss as he pops the rest of the fruit into his mouth. Thankfully, she doesn’t appear to see; instead, her eyes flick toward his hand, mouth firming.

Damn. I meant to keep that hidden.

Sakura barely waits for his hand to be empty before taking him by the wrist. “You’re hurt!”

The skin of his forearm and hand is crisscrossed with welts and scratches, as well as several wasp stings from when he was reaching into the trees. He’d forgotten about them, but with her attention, the dull hurts flare to life.

“It’s nothing,” he tells her, trying to take his hand back, but she doesn’t relinquish it.

“You always say it’s nothing. I’ve stopped believing you.”

“I guarantee everyone else working in the orchard has the same thing.”

“And I’ll get to them. But you’re here right now, and knowing you, you’re going to throw yourself back into work right away, so it won’t be until this evening when I get my hands on you again…” He raises an eyebrow at her. Her eyes widen. “That…didn’t come out right…”

He can’t help the slow smirk that pulls at his mouth, and she scowls at him.

“Shut up,” she grumbles, twin spots of rouge flaming even darker across her cheeks but holds his hand closer to her. Green chakra flickers between her fingers, seeping into his muscles and tendons, easing the sharp aching of scraped skin and pulling muscles.

While she heals, her expression relaxes, embarrassment giving way to concentration. He’s noticed that about her: when she uses her medical ninjutsu, everything else appears to fall beyond her awareness.

Still, there’s a tiny smile upon her lips and the fading colour across the bridge of her nose and cheekbones that has nothing to do with the autumn swelter. 

When she releases him, she is unabashed and cheerful again. “Better?”

He flexes his fingers, studying the newly healed skin, and nods.

“Thank you.”

Sasuke straightens and reaches for another apple slice, frowning at a mild pinching sensation behind his neck. He hasn’t even rolled his shoulder once to disperse the tension, before Sakura is leaning toward him again, eye filled with concern.

“You’ve strained your neck,” she says, and it sounds accusing, as if she thinks he deliberately kept it from her.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Yes, you have! I know what that looks like.”

“I haven’t done anything strenuous enough,” he replies, a little indignant because he knows his body’s limits.

“Spending the day with your arm raised overhead and twisting fruit off branches requires different movements than kenjutsu or taijutsu,” she lectures. “If you don’t take care of it now, you’ll regret it tomorrow.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Stop being so stubborn! Lie down and I’ll fix it for you.”

“No.”

“Sasuke…!”

She is growing annoyed, not understanding the reason for his refusal. He is easier with her lately when it comes to touching or being touched. It’s happened often enough—huddled together in the shelter of a tree when it rains, elbows bumping when they crowd into communal meal halls, or checking each other’s wounds.

If they were alone, he would let her ease the knots from his neck and shoulders, but right now they are in front of an entire village of people. Some of whom are viewing the interchange with blatant interest and amusement, others barely concealing the smiles on their faces.

The back of Sasuke’s neck feels warm. He dislikes such attention.

A look creeps across Sakura’s face, the one that Sasuke knows he will have no recourse against, and he has to act before it fully manifests..

“If you don’t lie down right now…” she begins, her voice rising with each syllable.

“Sakura,” he says, his tone soft but firm in its finality.

Her expression freezes at that, and she blinks, coming back to herself. Then, glancing around, she spots what he has been aware of for a while—the audience of workers pretending not to be observing them. 

Her look of surprise is almost comical, and her cheeks flood red once more.

“I didn’t mean— I wasn’t going to— not in front of—” she stammers, all apologies and embarrassment and avoiding eye contact. She jumps to her feet, nearly slopping tea over them both. “I have to get back. They, um, probably need help cleaning up, and I have to go out and check on the other workers, and you…well, you’re right…we can, um, your arm…I’ll just…”

He’s enjoying her fluster more than he should and opens his mouth to speak—to say something smooth in delivery or laden with implication—so that it continues.

But she’s biting her lip as if to physically stop herself from stammering, and her eyes are shining just so, even as they dart about trying to avoid his gaze, and as has become a frequent occurrence, Sasuke discovers every word in his vocabulary suddenly vanishing from his brain.

It takes him several seconds longer than he expects to remember at least one.

“Later?” he suggests.

Sakura stops her fidgeting and meets his gaze. This time he doesn’t bother hiding his small smile from her.

That unnameable something passes between them, bolstered by the rustling leaves and dense heat around them.

Then she smiles back, a gentle and pleased upward curve of her lips, and nods. “Right. Um…later.”

She hurries away after that, tripping a few times before her posture straightens and he watches her transform from his Sakura to the no-nonsense, hyper-confident medic and director.

Sasuke finishes his meal and eases to his feet, ready to head back into the orchard. On his way, he passes one of the workers who is staring Sakura with an air of awe.

“Your girl is something,” he says, impressed.

Sasuke considers Sakura once more, as she directs a group of villagers to go around picking up discarded plates and cups.

In his mind’s eye, he sees a skinny girl with long pink locks, hands on her hips and lecturing him or Naruto or Kakashi for some misbehaviour or other. In a blink it’s replaced with the brave kunoichi, bruised and battered, caring for him when he was ill, or holding him back from throwing himself into danger.

A girl who wouldn’t give up on a boy filled with darkness, even when he shoved away what she offered, be it a plate of apples or her heart.

It’s not the first time he wonders what he did to deserve her.

But he doesn’t reveal any of this to the worker. Instead, he shrugs and says with complete certainty, “She is.”

終わり

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I am trying to figure out how to fit this one into the Legacy of Fire series, but it mostly depends on me writing a completely different fic to allow that to happen, so this can exist in the same series as Miso Soup Everyday and You Are Cordially Invited. So for now it’s not part of the series...

I want to know what you think of my story! Leave kudos, a comment or if writing comments isn’t something you’re comfortable with, as many of these (or other emojis) as you want and let me know how you feel!

❤️️ = I love this story! 😳 = this was hot! 💐 = thank you for sharing this 🍵 = tea spilled 🍬 = so sweet and fluffy! 🚔 = you’re under arrest! the writing’s too good! 😲 = I NEED THE NEXT CHAPTER 😢 = you got me right in the feels 🤯mind blown 🤬god damn cliffhanger 😫 whyyyyyyy?!?!?

栗

[everydayanth]

Academic Elitism: an institutional issue

Sorry for being so rant-y lately, but the elitism of university has been a problem for me from the exact moment I accepted my scholarship with a signature and a handshake in high school. (The scholarship was later revoked due to state up-fuckery, but that’s another story, and I was already in too deep by the time they told me).

My parent’s house was only an hour north, my younger sister had already claimed my room, but I was excited. I was in the furthest dorm building, because that’s where the scholarship kids went, it was like a poor kid diversity hall, every few doors was someone from a completely different background, but we were all poor except our Swedish RA, and there was an odd pride in that. We all had various scholarships: robotics, dance team, nerds like me, etc. (not the football or hockey athletes though, they had their own dorm next to the library for... reasons, lol).

But being the last hall, it wasn’t actually full, most of us had entire rooms to ourselves, often whole suites; our hall was co-ed, but rooms were only occupied at every-other, staggered down the corridor. Only the front two halls were used, the back two closed off for construction or codes or something. We had to hike up the hill for dining halls, which was fine until snowdays that shut the whole campus down (and I mean west Michigan ones, with 4+ feet of powder and ice underneath). I had an old computer my dad got me for graduation and I didn’t know it was old until my peers started calling it a dinosaur. I had to use the library computers to write and print papers, and most places I went, I ran into the other scholarship kids. We didn’t talk much, just a head bob here and there, awareness at our similarities and an annoyed spite at being thrown together this way. It was lonely for everyone.

I had a purple flip phone I’d gotten only that calendar year (2009) and was still learning to text with (abbreviations? instant messaging? what?). My roommate had come down from Alaska to live near her dad, we’d talked in the summer, but I never saw her. I moved my things in and her stuff was on her side, I texted her about going to turn in paperwork and when I came back, there was a note on my bed and all her things were gone, she couldn’t do it, had never been away from home for even a night. She left a few mismatched socks and a bag of junk pens that I resented for years. 

Social media was mostly a way to talk to people across campus and exchange homework and party times/locations. We posted over-edited photos of our food and still jogged with our mp3 players and ipods. But within two years, I had to trade in my computer three times and upgrade to a smartphone to keep up with the expectations of communication. Professors would cancel classes by emails an hour out, and if I was on campus, I simply didn’t get the message, running between classes with 19 credit hours and three jobs. Work would call in or cancel my appointments (tutoring) and I needed to be able to communicate at the rate of my peers, so though it wasn’t something we could easily afford, my parents let me get the smartphone and my dad helped me find computers that could keep up with writing papers and researching without having to go to the lab, which saved so much time. 

There was little understanding for my suffering. I didn’t have a car, I had to call my parents and organize a time to get home or take the train which was more expensive than waiting around on an empty campus. They were often things that even the wealthiest students had to deal with, but there were so much more of them for us, more stress, more problems, more solutions, more consequences, and in some ways, more determination.

I spent plenty of breaks holed up in my room, but when the swine flu/H1N1 outbreak happened, guess where they quarantined students?

In our hall. 

Not the back one that was closed. In the room attached to my suite. 

After half a semester alone, suddenly strangers shared my bathroom. I never saw them, I would just hear the formidable click of the bathroom lock followed by the shower. A week later I got a blue half-sheet note in my mailbox about quarantines. The other kids were as pissed off, as we watched kids escorted in with blue masks and were told to just get cleaning wipes from the front desk –they ran out in a week. 

We were the recyclable students, brought in to trade scholarships for university grade averages. Many of my friends were struggling with scholarship qualifications and gpas (which only encouraged my continual obsessive perfectionism and involvement). 

We were expendable. 

I didn’t understand the elitism then, or I did, but I’d twisted it in my head from years tossed between private and public schools. I was an invader, I wasn’t supposed to be there, but I wanted to be. I understood that I didn’t deserve it, that I had to work harder to stay. I completed Master’s coursework for my Bachelor’s degree, finishing two BA programs (anthropology and English: creative writing) and 2 minor programs in philosophy and world lit, lead several campus groups and volunteered with honor’s societies. I spent hours on campus every day, running home just to go to one job or the other. I slept about four hours a night and I still romanticize it because I loved it. And I was good at it. It was a closed system, easy to infiltrate, easy to watch and observe and follow, to feel protected from the world, but there were always ways that I came up short. 

I didn’t have leggings or Northface fleeces or Ugg boots or name brand anything (except a pair of converse I got in 8th grade from my Babcia). I had old high school sweats and soccer shirts, hand-me-down clothes from sisters and cousins that mix-matched a style I thought was unique but I now understand screamed I don’t really belong here. Example: I went to propose an independent study to a professor I really admired and I panicked about what to wear. I still cringe at the memory, gahhhhhh, but I pulled on what I thought was a decent dress because it had no rips or stains or tears and though I’d picked it up from a clearance rack, it was the newest thing and therefore the best. But in retrospect, it was definitely a “party” dress, I grabbed a sweater, hoop earrings that had always been beautiful in my neighborhood, and heels I never wore otherwise, and presented my idea. This old professor was just like “um...did you dress up for me?” Clearly spooked by red flags and I realized my mistake. Saved by quick thinking I clarified “no, I have a presentation later,” and being a familiar face in the social sciences department, I let him assume I was dressed up as something. I just went in my sweats and t-shirts after that, got a haircut that tamed the wavy frizz and learned the importance of muted tones, cardigans, and flats.

I made a lot of interesting friends in the process, people who also stuck out from the American Academic culture: exchange students, older (non-traditional) students, rebels, and other poor kids. But that also meant that we all evolved during our time there, so friendship was quick and fleeting as we adapted or dropped out or remained oblivious, lost in our studies and dreams of changing the world or our lives. 

I had no idea how to approach the dining halls because I could only afford the bronze plan that was included with my room+board scholarship. I could enter the hall ten times per week, with four included passes to the after-hours carry-out (this was an upgrade from the free high school lunch I was coming from). I met other kids on this plan and their dorm rooms had fridges and microwaves and shelves of ramen and mac’n’cheese. Mine was sparse, my fridge had jugs of water from the filtered tap in the common room, and though it had a shared kitchenette, it always smelled bad or was being used and the nearest grocery store was Meijers which was a 15-20 minute drive from campus. I used so much energy dividing up my meals and figuring out how to sneak food from the hall for later or just learn to not eat, which is another story involving malnutrition, broken bones, and the American Healthcare System.

We like to summarize the college experience with fond struggles. I went back to my old high school to watch my younger sisters’ marching band competition that first year (it’s MI, and they were good). My old art teacher (not much older than we were but she felt so much older at the time, also her maiden name was Erickson and so was her fiance’s so she didn’t “change” her name and that blows my mind to this day), anyway, she stopped me to ask how school was going, and I was not prepared to be recognized in anyway and stammered out something like “oh, yeah, stressful. Fun, cool, yeah,” like the eloquent well-educated student I was. And she said, “oh, I loved it, don’t you love it? Everything’s so charming, and being poor? Oh man, it’s hard for a while, but it’s so good to go through.” 

I was dumbfounded at her reference to poverty as a thing to go through when you’re a student. I again had to remember that I was infiltrating places where people weren’t just marginally more well-off than I was, but far beyond, in a place where they couldn’t comprehend an alternative, couldn’t conceive of surviving poverty, of not having a reliable place to fall if you mess up, parents who couldn’t support you if things went wrong, who couldn’t save you from having to drop out if scholarships were canceled because the money just wasn’t there.

Talking with my parents never worked, and I recently found this video by The Financial Diet about Boomer shame in being poor, where many Millennials were united by it and it was #relatable. But all this is to say that there are so many layers and ways we develop in higher education that are often overlooked by the romantic nostalgia of the elite expectation. What we demand from education vs. what it offers us in return is rarely equal for students coming from poverty, and it starts with that first sacrifice of looking at money and deciding it has to be worth it to do something bigger, and that education is a necessary piece of that goal.

Now I live near Brown University, I’ve been to Harvard when we lived in Boston and recently took a trip to Yale with bold expectations. I am friends with several people who work at these places and I hear the same things: so many students are in a place where their obsessions are considered more important than the larger world, an argument that Shakespeare is a woman is more important to prove than the greater issues of sexism in society as a whole, while others are trained to look at data and the world as a pocketable fact-book, going to conferences and  week-long summits and then off to D.C. to make important decisions about places they’ve never been to, for people they’ve never met, about problems they’ve never experienced.  

It’s not new. It’s not romantic. It’s not nostalgic. It’s just sick. 

I was horrified at New Haven. I have read so many social science reports and papers and experiments and academic bullshit that has come from professors at Yale with a big badge of ivy-league validation. So much of this research was focused on homelessness and culture clash and socio-economics in America, as that was my “dissertation” that got me discounted master’s classes for my BA in Anthropology. Anyway, my point was that I thought this noble, proud university that put out so much research was going to be situated in something of a utopia, where their research is put into practice. Obviously, I was wrong, but I didn’t expect how wrong. (I had also started reading Leigh Bardugo’s Ninth House, so... there’s another thing).

My observations were validated by employees of ivy-league schools, who have watched over the past 2 decades as they grow more and more reclusive, hiding away from the public except through a few, probably well-intentioned, outstretched hands that do little to contribute to the world outside the university itself. These ivory towers are built by poaching: environments, observations, resources, research, and yeah, even students.

I love academia. I will sit in a library for hours just pulling down tomes (and putting them back in their proper locations like a dork) and drawing connections just for fun. But right now, I’m a bit bitter and spiteful and angry. 

When something like Coronavirus sneaks up on us, we have a tendency to throw the most expendable people under the bus as quickly as we can, and all I can think about is my shadow of a suite-mate sneezing and coughing with swine flu for two weeks, at how I refused to use my own bathroom and listened to my hall-mates’ advice about showering at the rec center a mile away as we all collectively locked our bathroom doors and were left there by the university to get sick without insurance to help with any foreseeable costs.

It’s not the same now, they’ve rebuilt the entire section of the campus, it’s odd to see it, I wonder where they put the expendable kids. Or maybe they don’t accept them anymore. I’ve worked in college admissions since then, and it is a scary industry of politics and preference and hidden quotas and image-agendas. Not all schools are industry monsters, but when you’re expendable, they sure do feel like it, whether you graduate summa cum laude with two degrees, six awards, and five tasseled ropes around your neck or not. 

I wish I had a positive message. I wish I was in a place to help people who feel expendable or like they can’t keep up with communications because of technology or language or network or environment. But I don’t have much right now. For all its posturing and linear progression, academia needs to create profit. All I can do is yell about this existing.

If you are feeling expandable in university, I can tell you you’re not alone. I can let you rant about all the small ways your peers don’t get it, whether its an accent they shit on or ceremonies you don’t have the right clothes for or textbooks you share with a friend to cut costs but then they hoard them. I can relate to you about guilt and that sneaking panic that fills you with anxiety at night as you question yourself and wonder if it’s worth it at all, if it’s necessary, if it’s okay to be expendable to follow something that feels bigger. I can validate your doubt and tell you that you’re not actually expendable, you’re a bridge. 

I’m sorry it still works like this. I wish we figured out how to change it by now, I wish I had secret shortcuts to tell you about, that there was more accountability or hope, but I’m not seeing it lately. I hope you do. <3

[mimi-cee-hq]

The Dating Project - Futakuchi x Reader

Summary: In a dorm where nobody dates, Futakuchi thinks of a solution to Y/n's Dating Project.

Pairing: Futakuchi x fem!Reader, mentioned Aone x Nametsu (for plot reasons)

Genre and Themes: Fluff, Boarding school AU, Getting together (to fake date lol), Sort of dystopian? but it’s still cute?

Word Count: 1,553

Author’s Notes: Happy Birthday @writeiolite! Here's your matchup story. Out of the list of your favourite characters, of course I chose Futakuchi :P This is the first time I’ve written an AU, but I hope you like it. (Your description is at the end of the post.)

General Taglist: @dorkyama @the-black-birb @hqprotectionsquad @nagichi-kenma @moonaaluna @muffins-puffins

*****

Y/n heaved a sigh as she rested her head in the palm of her hand. “Should I just drop the Dating Project?” she asked Futakuchi.

He leaned back against the metal bench they were sitting on and placed his hands behind his head. He stared up at the glass dome ceiling of their dorm, about five floors high from them. Colourful metal beams stretched across the building. Students milled around the balconies. At his left was a wide metal stairwell, just far enough so the people strolling up and down wouldn’t hear their conversation.

“Why? You were so passionate about it when you first thought of the idea,” commented Futakuchi.

A large and soft teddy bear was the only thing separating them. Who knew his stuffed gift would remind him to keep his distance from her - not that she knew it was from him. He still hadn’t quite adjusted to being a resident of Dorm E, even though he had lived there for three years.

“Nobody wants to be a part of it,” Y/n replied, sticking out her bottom lip. They continued to face the TV, playing a movie which was apparently acceptable for them to watch.

“Well… can you blame them?” he said. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, fully aware he couldn’t reach over and place an arm around her shoulders. So instead, he rubbed his hair and sighed. “Not after they made an example out of Nametsu,” he added.

He recalled the moment when he heard the announcement through the speakers. Nametsu would no longer be a part of Dorm E. He and Y/n stared at each other, eyes wide, and ran to the balcony to see what was happening in the dorm’s foyer. Nametsu was being escorted out of the dorm.

Reasons were vague. They said her potential had decreased to the point where she was no longer a student suitable for Dorm E, a place reserved for top students. The school evaluated every student on a variety of factors including leadership skills, extra curricular activities, and academics. They wanted Dorm E to have a culture of innovation, creativity, and success. The students would be society’s future leaders.

So dating was banned.

There was no need for romantic relationships. Those were reserved for commoners. The elites of society were meant for more and shouldn’t be tied down to a relationship.

So when Nametsu was caught dating Aone, the Council decided she was unsuitable to be a future leader. Her potential was negligible.

“Ugh, what they did to Nametsu was stupid,” she told him. “But she didn’t care anymore. You should have seen her eyes when she would describe Aone: stoic but warm.” Futakuchi saw a sad smile on Y/n’s face. “And when they kicked her out, it was as if she was walking down the aisle. Like one of those women dressed in white!” Y/n longed to be able to love like that too, to give it her all like Nametsu.

When Futakuchi raised an eyebrow at her, she realized what she said and she quickly covered her mouth. “Pretend you didn’t hear that,” she said in a hushed tone.

“Pfft,” he teased. “You’re telling me to forget that you watched a banned movie when we’ve been talking about your Dating Project this whole time?” That earned him a smack from her, using the teddy bear of course.

“I know so many students here who are in love,” she continued to complain. “I’ve seen how they pine for each other.” She let out a sigh. “But nobody wants to take that first step.”

“Well… they’re still the minority,” commented Futakuchi. “Most of the students in Dorm E agree with the Council - especially people like you who’ve been here their whole lives.”

Y/n gave him a smirk. “I still don’t know how you got in,” she said, lightly jabbing him.

“I just know how to not get caught,” Futakuchi grinned with pride at her.

Y/n was about to retort, but he suddenly stopped talking, blinking a couple of times. She saw the growing smirk he was trying to hide, but she caught on right away. “I know that look!”

“What look?” Futakuchi said as he averted his eyes away from her.

“That look when you get an idea that'll piss off someone,” she said, bending over while laughing.

“No it’s not,” he snapped back.

“How would you know what you look like right now?” she snickered. He didn’t answer. “Come oooon,” Y/n whined as she continued to poke him. “Tell me!”

“Ugh!” he groaned, finally giving in. “Alright.” He opened his mouth to tell her, but stopped short of actually verbalizing his idea. Instead, a blush covered his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

Y/n eyed him, grabbing his arm and saying, “What the heck? Are you going to tell me or what?”

Futakuchi let out another groan and shrugged her off. “Fine. Basically, you can do what you usually say: show don’t tell.” Y/n scrunched her brows. “You know… for the Dating Project.”

“Uhh… What?”

“Just start dating someone to encourage the other students to start dating,” he explained. “If you take the lead, others will follow.”

As Y/n scratched her head, seriously considering Futakuchi’s idea, he turned his head away from her. He started to bounce his knee, now regretting sharing his idea.

“Futakuchi…” Y/n said in a singing voice, causing him to look back at her. Y/n batted her eyes at him expectantly, knowing he would be quick to catch on.

“No,” he firmly replied. “I’m not doing it.”

“Please!!!”

“No.”

“But you’re the only one who agrees with me.”

“No I’m not.”

“Okay, you’re not,” Y/n admitted. “But you’re the only one who’s not pining after someone.”

Futakuchi grumbled as he ran his fingers through his hair. Of course she’d think that. She didn’t know he liked her - even though he did before he came to Dorm E.

Several years ago, he saw her and Nametsu through the wired fence bordering Dorms B and E. He hadn’t met anyone from Dorm E before, but he thought they were all nerds with no life, which was why Y/n peaked his interest. She danced. He watched her footwork and her swinging arms. He saw her there every Thursday afternoon, showing Nametsu the various moves she came up with and laughing at herself whenever she messed up. Little by little, his desire to see her up close grew. He even started to wonder if he had a chance to get into Dorm E. He did.

“Are you sure about dating me?” he asked. “Aren’t you worried about getting kicked out?”

“It’s worth the risk. I want to see the Dating Project happen.”

He sighed, scratching his temple. “Okay. Just on one condition,” he said in a serious tone. “Just to be clear, we are fake dating, okay? That’s the only way I’ll agree to this.”

With fake dating, they had a chance. He could weasel their way out if things got messy with the Council and they failed. There were no rules against fake dating. Even if there was just a small possibility he could keep them in Dorm E, he’d take it - even if it messed with his own feelings.

“I’m fine with that,” Y/n grinned. “Umm… but now what?”

“What do you mean? Do you seriously have no idea what to do?” replied Futakuchi.

“I’ve only watched one banned movie okay?” she replied, reminding Futakuchi she had no real life examples of people dating.

He took a deep breath, knowing he would be in for a rough one. If he was the one who needed to take the lead in this relationship, he didn’t know how he’d keep his feelings in check. But maybe he didn’t need to.

Futakuchi suddenly scooped up Y/n from the metal bench, her legs dangling across one arm and her back against his other. “Hey! What are you doing?” she complained.

He rolled his eyes and replied with a scowl, “Having fun with my fake girlfriend.” Futakuchi carried her to the large stairwell, scanning the area to make sure they were visible to most of the people in the building. As expected, some were already turning their heads.

When they got to the middle of the staircase, he put Y/n down and looked into her eyes, asking again, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Y/n nodded. As he studied her face, he admired how selfless she was, putting herself out there at the risk of being kicked out, hoping to change Dorm E. She longed for it to be a community where students would be free to date whomever they loved.

Taking her cheeks in his hands, he pulled her close and placed his lips on hers. Y/n’s eyes shot open in shock, Futakuchi seeing them after pulling away. “W-what was that?” she asked, her cheeks surprisingly red.

“A kiss you idiot!”

Looking down, she shyly asked, “Can we do that again?”

By now, Futakuchi could sense many eyes watching them. He heard mumbles and whispers around the building. But that wasn’t his current concern. He wondered how long they could keep their relationship fake.

*****

I hope you liked it. I'm a little worried you won't because this is slightly different from my usual. But I was glad I reopened my match-ups so I could write this for your birthday. lol.

Fun fact: This was inspired by a historical couple who got married to encourage others to do the same (and to provoke their opponents). I'll be surprised if anyone knows who I'm talking about. lol

I have another Futakuchi x reader fic called Anonymous Text, which is in canonverse and a cute and funny one, and a bunch of other fics too in my Masterlist.

*****

Matchup Request from @seijoh (Like usual, I didn’t use everything lol):

MATCHUP REQUESTS AYYYEEEE!! feel free to write based on anything u already know abt me plus: am a smol dancer and choreographer. i love to lead projects and come up w/new ideas. cooking/baking is lots of fun but nothing beats sitting in bed with a soft kitty, tons of blankets/stuffed animals, and just cuddled up over a tv show. or going out for food/museums!! ♡ i’m a firm believer in all or nothing, so i’m rly like that with relationships too ahdhsjjsakw. congrats on 500 again!! ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

tl;dr political rant post:

it had been my goal from 12 years old to do an arts degree in philosophy (yes what a nerd- thanks to my dad playing a Great Courses philosophy dvd one morning in 2007 and my dad always taking me to the botanic gardens/the uni some weekends).

i graduated from my arts degree in 2018, with a major in english and a minor in philosophy. i was so, so lucky to even get into my communications & media degree (at first i was originally going to do marketing communications, advertising & PR)... but i realised that i was not made for business subjects- despite my mark101 tutor telling me she thought i had knack for marketing- something under this policy that i wouldn’t undertake due to the price hike for commerce/business degrees. nor was i made for a media degree. so i changed to arts & humanities.

although under this atrocious policy, english subjects are made “cheaper”- why on fucking should the rest of someone’s arts/humanities degree be so much more expensive, all depending on the fields they choose???? so you’re telling me, if i was instead to enter undergrad this year to do my english degree... that my english major would be subsidised, but my philosophy minor would be at double the cost (along with the few first year business and communications&media subjects i did), unless i forced myself to pick maths or science subjects that i would most definitely fail, no matter how much work i’d put into them??? or there’s languages- but much like maths/science- there’s the problem with my handwriting that stopped me trying french and even japanese (ironically, since it’s know for its ~painstakingly neat and orderly~ script- but my handwriting is still messy, disorderly and confusing asf).

*please note that most of this next section is just me being highly spurious and cynical. it’d probably work out fine*

but you’re also telling me that under this policy that i’d also probably have to forego my reasonable adjustments in those subjects (yes i still have trouble with my handwriting to this day) mostly because a lot of software still won’t let you write out maths problems properly or i’d have to spend twice as long trying to get a graph to work in excel or idek matlab (please teach me maths nerds)???? and most maths working out is probably better handwritten or whatever??? and that’s besides the point that i still can’t use excel at all 😂.

so with these classes then, would i be battling from day one of first year with professors to let me use a computer during exam periods (unless of course they use online/take home exam methods like philosophy)???? probably (im being very suspicious here because i don’t know how science/maths etc faculties work).

although i did get this once with one particular english professor; who used the excuse that he didn’t know how to set a computer up for exams because he had been on “sabatical for 4 years” or whatever and so “didn’t know the policies anymore”.... so then according to him it was apparently “the students job to do it.... especially since you’re in third year, miss williams”..... however, i was promptly then told by EVERY uni offical that i approached for help to do it for me.... and my other professors across my course that had done it for me, that it was in fact the PROFESSORS job/responsibility to set it up, and not the student’s??? like. help your students fuckwit professor grant??? honestly. anyway. aside from my personal struggles in the english department: let’s proceed. (this was a real incident btw).

would i be at a significant disadvantage to other students by not being able to use a computer during maths exams or science exams because of the drawing of diagrams and graphs and “showing your working”???? hell yes. would i want the professors in that department to probably condescendingly telling me all the time to “present my work neater and more precisely”? FUCK NO. it’s exactly why i avoided every maths and science subject in undergrad- even including the astronomy subject that i wanted to do- because it also meant that fellow students had to read my handwriting for practicals etc as well, that i wasn’t entirely keen on either. but i did not need the harsh reminders of “be more precise and infallible in your work presentation” that i’d had at school constantly for 11 years of maths lessons; affecting my mental health and performance in a subject during a uni semester.

moreover, that’s besides the fact that i’d flat out fail the “year 12 band 4 maths” requirements- unless they want to waive those- for first year maths/science subjects (at least basing it on my local uni).... considering that i actually skipped out on maths completely in year 12 by doing a TVET/tafe/technical college course in live theatre, production and events (which no surprises here, actually included maths anyway 😅).

because, fuck. is ANYONE seeing a trend in my study choices here? hell, i almost did a commerce/business dual degree with a tafe diploma in event management for crying out fucking loud. and you’re telling me that’s also doubled in price?? it’s obvious that i was interested in the arts & humanities and business subjects from the get-go. but under this policy- i’d be charged double for having my interest in event management, instead of say, biology (which is a subject that if it weren’t for mark scaling in my final hsc exam- i would have failed completely)??? utterly ridiculous.

i even contemplated doing a double degree with law at one point (or doing a legal studies major/minor- which is now a course at my local uni, but was not while i was there). however, law course fees have also doubled under this new policy. leaving that out of reach for me, despite that a double degree with law was out of reach for me anyway..... since my mark average was 65% and not at least 75% lol. but as if those marks averages will actually matter under this new policy.

under this bullshit policy, i’d be forced to take science/maths or even teaching (another field i had to avoid, since people can’t read my writing on a whiteboard from a distance half the time either.... besides the fact that i’m not really the ~teacher type~) subjects- all so that my degree price overall will be ”reduced”..... meaning that i would have to trade out my philosophy minor for something in maths/teaching/science (or maybe creative arts- since those fees stayed the same roughly)... instead of sticking to what i was good at: philosophy and other humanities/social science fields like sociology and history????

i understand that many people will snub me with saying “oh why did you even BOTHER going to uni if you were THAT indecisive about what you wanted to do?” which is something i’ve seen many older people saying on posts about this policy. but hell, i was 19 FUCKING YEARS OLD WHEN I STARTED UNI, FOR GODS SAKE. OF COURSE I WAS GOING TO BE FUCKING INDECISIVE ABOUT MY DIRECTION IN LIFE! because, newsflash fuckwits: not everyone has a defined career goal at 19. hell, i still don’t have one at almost 25..... since i’ll admit here, that i flunked out of my postgrad library course.... because i realised that i simply couldn’t cope with learning simple HTML, CSS and javascript coding for website design & user experience design 😂 (again help me computer wiz friends). yes, believe it or not, librarians have to know that today. and most people think that it’s just all about books (okay that was me, but i was wrong). also, if you’re wondering: postgrad library courses aren’t affected, thank god. but my point is, aren’t we meant to fuck up and pick the wrong things in life sometimes??? aren’t we meant to be indecisive about our choices in our late teens up until our mid 20s???

but now you’re telling students that their very first year of uni is practically set out for them, even for arts/humanities degrees (im not counting properly prescribed degrees such as engineering/science/communications & media (they had prescribed majors and prescribed first year subjects, which is why i left it. because i felt trapped in the prescribed marketing et al major etc); all because the government is telling them that “oh to make your first year cheaper: (A.) get good marks.... so that we don’t cancel your HECS place and (B.) pick subjects outside of the arts/humanities like science/maths/tech related subjects so that you don’t pay a whopping $14,500 for your first year of uni and will be more likely to be “job ready”. whatever the actual fuck “job ready” really means. and this all as if there ISN’T enough pressure for a 18/19 year old to succeed in their first year of uni already.

although, the one thing i’ll say is that my one year advanced diploma in marketing that i did in 2014, was $16,500. i still haven’t made any moves to pay it off. but it was constantly in the back of my mind during uni, both undergrad and postgrad. it was there as a reminder to pick cheaper subjects, so as to not greatly increase my combined hecs debt and vet-fee help debt; which is now sitting at $42,500. which under this new policy is the new price of ONE arts & humanities undergrad degree. i’d hate to be going into uni next year at 19 years old (or any age really) with that price tag on my degree.

anyway. that’s the end of my non-sensical rant. morrison and the rest of the libs etc can go fuck themselves.

[leavetwn]

* KAYLEE BRYANT, CISWOMAN + SHE/HER  | you know SUZIE TANAKA, right? they’re TWENTY-ONE, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, EIGHTEEN YEARS? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to VALENTINE BY HOPE TALA like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole ROLLERSKATES SCUFFED FROM YEARS OF USE, STARTING A JOURNAL ENTRY TWO YEARS SINCE THE LAST ONE, A SIGH OF RELIEF ONCE YOU'RE FINALLY ALONE thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is NOVEMBER 28TH, so they’re a SAGGITARIUS, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( claire, 22, est, she/her )

it’s me again ! bringing a character who i’ve played for a while now, just switched up & such for every rp, and now , i’m bringin her here. :^) i hope you enjoy her as much as i do! tw: mentions of mental illness (anxiety)

𝐈. ━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 .

full name: suzie tanaka. nickname(s): su, anything your muse wants to call her tbh. age: twenty-one. date of birth: november 28th. zodiac sign: saggitarius. gender/pronouns: ciswoman, she/her. sexual orientation: bisexual. romantic orientation: biromantic. hometown: san francisco, californio. current residence: irving, north carolina. occupation: part time waitress at cutie pie’s thanks to her skills on skates. full time student at the local college in her junior year as a creative writing major. she minors in film pro eye color: brown. hair color/style: dark brown, upper-mid back length & she usually just wears it in a simple ponytail. it’s more manageable when she’s out. however, when she’s at home, she’ll leave it down. height : 5′3″. clothing style: you can’t really put suzie’s style into one category. it’s inspired by several different eras & many times she pieces it together. some might call it a bit tacky at times, but she thinks it looks cute. to her, that’s all that matters. tattoos: none. probably could never attempt to get one cause she’s seriously afraid of needles lol. piercings: her ears and that’s when she was fairly young. reference the tattoos portion for reasoning.

𝐈. ━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 .

when you were around six years old  , you first realized that you were lonely. it wasn’t like you weren’t around other people. it was just that those people were mostly your mom and dad. occasionally your cousins would come over sometimes, but they were all older than you by at least four years. your parents were kind of eccentric, and for that, they experienced how harsh other kids could be very early on. they decided they didn’t want you to experience the same things, so since both were felt they were prepared enough to do so, they homeschooled you to keep you sheltered from those types of things. 

you’re sure they had good intentions. that’s not something you questioned, but you wished they’d at least find another kid you could be friends with or have another kid. you found yourself bored by yourself, so you immersed yourself in things like books or whatever movies they had around the house. this is where your love of fairytales began, and you’d fantasize about living in one while you read or watched the stories unfold.

you lived in your head, and you still pretty much do. you’re an idealist, even though you haven’t seen much of the world. perhaps it’s the fact that you haven’t ventured very far from your home that makes you so, and while life could still be boring, you always had another book or movie to keep you company. you grew content being on your own, and the more that you were, the more you began to enjoy your own company.

that didn’t change the fact that you longed for friends. in all the stories you read or watched, the protagonist had one other person along with them for much of their journey. sure, you had people that you were friendly with, but it was never to the extent that you wanted. it was never a best friend or a close group  —  just someone you saw on few occasions. it also didn’t help how you felt when you were around others. the way you monitored every step you took, the way you crossed your legs, or going over the way you would speak to someone in your head over and over. you figured for the longest time it was because you were shy, but a diagnosis of anxiety gave you a lot more clarity and almost a sense of relief. those things started to make more sense.

being alone helped a lot when it came to academics. you spent a lot of your time studying or looking up random ass facts on the internet, and because of this, you’d call yourself fairly smart. you know your shit. it also helped a lot when getting into colleges. you didn’t aim too high though, not yet comfortable being all the way on your own. so, you chose the nearby university to attend. 

you move out. you’re excited, and your parents are nervous but prepared. they’re not oblivious to the fact that this day would come. you’re ready to go out and face the world, but most of all, you’re ready to make friends. you’re ready to go out and experience the world, every small step at a time. you’re convinced at college you’ll become a brand new person, find yourself, and make plenty of friends. 

it doesn’t go like that at first. of course it doesn’t. it’s a new environment, and it takes getting used to. but soon, people loosen up and warm up to you. you’re quick to make a couple of friends. it isn’t at all like the stories you’d read or watched when you were younger. it is happy and fun and joyous, but you realize that friendships take work. it’s a bit exhausting, as someone who had become such an introvert, but you manage and form close bonds. 

as of now, you are working on your degree and managing life one step at a time. you’re doing pretty well, and things are looking up. you keep your head in the clouds still to this day, imagining what the future will be like. you’re still idealistic and optimistic, not that that’s a bad thing.  

𝐈. ━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 .

i was being exaggerative with the ‘being at home’ stuff rip. i mean, she did spend a lot of time at home, but she wasn’t always there. her dad would take her out to rockin’ and rollin’, and i mean, she fuckin rocks when it comes to skating. it was kind of freeing to her as a child. she def got a pair of rollerblades as a christmas present, and she probably was the kid skating down her neighborhood road and shit from sunrise until her mom told her to take her ass inside. 

maybe seems like she’s ditzy and she’s probably somewhat naive, but she’s definitely not stupid. she’s also a fast learner. she is, however, too nice for her own good. she’ll learn eventually, but she’s hopeful and an optimist at heart 💔

loves her dad but tells her mom everything. she doesn’t recognize it, but her mom was probably her first best friend lmaoo. they have a really good relationship. she has a good relationship with her dad too. he’s a bit more closed off than her mom, and she recognizes that but understands.

has an irrational fear that everyone’s like,,, staring at her & thinking she’s weird. really wants everyone to like her but she’s not sure how to make that happen (news flash, it won’t)

her fam is actually from san francisco but when she was 3, her dad got a better offer in irving so that’s how they ended up here. she knows this & she wonders what life woulda been like if she stayed back in san fran. probably wouldn’t have changed but she literally lives in her head and imagines shit like that’s her job at this point so yehhh 

dreams of being a screenwriter and maybe even a director one day. she saw how film and books influenced her life as a kid & she wants to have the same impact, yk? v cute to me i love that. maybe she’ll write a book one day too who knows

i’m feelin like she has a ton of online friends cause she was seeking connection /w people so it makes sense. shout out to all her online pals who kept her sane & shit, but it wasn’t enough for her cause she really wanted those kinds of things irl.

is a hopeless romantic rip to her. just wants someone to sweep her up off her feet and give her butterflies but this aint no damn fairytale so let’s make it chaotic

character parallels: lily (dash & lily, 2020) , amélie poulain (amélie, 2001) , belle in some ways lmao (beauty and the beast, 1991) more to be added.

𝐈. ━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 .

*  friends, best friends, etc.  — literally any friends at all. this is the connection she craves the most tbh. platonic over romantic periodt ! she just wants people to braid her hair and have deep, personal convos with about literally anything while legally blonde is on the television. 

* a bad influence  —  i mean, she stayed inside mostly & is kind of an introvert. didn’t have tons of friends either, so she didn’t really have time to go to parties, etc. BE A BAD INFLUENCE SHE NEEDS TO LET LOOSE LMAOO. it’ll prolly take a lot to get her out but hey 

* good influence  — someone she’s a good influence on & who she helps in some way. i could see it happenin’. if you see it happening, i mean... hmu you know where i am mwah 💖

* crush  — someone she’s head over heels with. i mean, it probably wouldn’t take a lot. in my head she be catching feelings way too fast. it’s just a thing, but yeah, it could go either way. maybe your character is into her too or she’ll end up getting her heart broken which is lmao bound to happen one day. could also be someone who’s crushing on her but she’s way to busy focusing all her romantic attention on someone else to notice? idk i’m just here for all the plots.

* annoyance  — someone who finds her ass annoying/does not like her. she wants everyone to like her so it would be so confusing and upsetting and she would be like wtf did i do but i want it cause i love angst. sorry to all my muses out there luv yall but i’m just bein real

* again, anything at all  — if you have an idea that you love, pls don’t hesitate to hmu and lemme know. i promise i will 99.9% of the time be down. the same goes for any wanted connection doodads that i reblog like if u see it and ur like omg i luv that... PLEASE hmu i luv u all already & just wanna have plots and write with you srsly

[buckyreaderrecs]

Wax and Wane

Summary: Bucky was sure he'd felt all the different types of bad a person could feel. He was wrong. You were pretty sure it was illegal to drive away with an Avenger in the back of your van, but what else could you do? A story about grief that is basically the 'flowers grow in the sidewalk cracks' metaphor fanfictionalised.

Words: 5,614 Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Thor Additional tags: mostly canon compliant (Infinity War and Endgame never happened), Stark Tower still exists, other Marvel characters are mentioned but aren’t central to plot, recovering Bucky, not angsty but a sad story, she/her pronouns Warnings: illness/death, sick children, grief

Note: This was written for Nik's 1k Writing Challenge - @serpienten  My dialogue prompt was, "I'll keep you warm. Hold me closer." I hope you love it, Nik! 

EDIT: Accidentally had all the Y/N replaced with my name because of the Chrome extension. Hopefully fixed, but if you see Rhiannon pop up, please let me know so I can edit. Embarrassing lol.

Wax and Wane

As the paint was brushed gently across their skin in broad strokes, you could read the joy and pleasure in their sweet little faces. It was a very minor and short term relief from their day-to-day pain, but it was the very least you could do. Face painting wasn't going to cure cancer or mend broken bones, but it made the residents of the hospital's children's ward happy.

Most of the long-term patients knew you. You were the girl in the tutu and butterfly wings that would come and blow bubbles and make them smile. But on that day, you weren't the one they were excited for.

The children were in a frenzy as The Avengers entered the room, dressed in their best outfits (minus any dangerous weaponry, you assumed). You stood to the side of the room with the doctors, nurses, and parents, and listened along with an enraptured audience as Captain America and Iron Man introduced the team. The kids couldn't sit for long, so very quickly the nibbles and treats were brought out and the room calmed into a soft party atmosphere.

As soon as you'd set up your station, there was a line of children wanting to have webs and stars painted. You worked quickly, getting through the line fast. Staying put, you only had a chance to briefly survey the room before Liam, one of your most special friends, trotted up to you, pulling along someone new.

"Hey, Liam," you greeted. He let go of his new friend's hand to hug you.

"Look, Y/N!" he said, pointing up. "It's Bucky!"

You looked up at Bucky Barnes, who would have towered over you even if you had been standing. The child's size plastic chair you were on really added a comical size difference though.

"Hi, Bucky," you said, coy smile. Bucky softly smiled back. "You're Liam's favourite,"

"Yeah, I told'ed him that!" Liam said, not a shred of self-consciousness in the child. "And now we can be matching,"

"Matching?" you asked.

"Yeah, 'cause you do the painting and you can paint my arm like Bucky's," Liam explained, holding his prosthetic arm out in demonstration.

Glancing up at Bucky to make sure he was privy to the plan, he simply gave a little shrug.

"Sounds good to me. How about you sit in this chair here, Liam, and we get Bucky to sit right next to us on the floor. Is that okay?" you asked both of them.

Liam jumped into the seat, sticking his arm out ready.

Bucky had a bit of a harder time folding himself down, but he eventually managed to sit in front of you comfortably.

"Okay if I borrow your arm for a bit?" you asked Bucky.

He nodded and held it out to you. When you took it, laying it across one of your legs so you could copy the seams and markings, Bucky held his breath. Most people hesitated. He figured some of them were afraid, and some didn't want to appear rude. Not you though. To you, his arm was just that - an arm. You'd kinda grown used to celebrities (is that what superheroes are classified as? you wondered to yourself) by then. Make a Wish and fundraising events and all that jazz… Turns out most famous people are pretty normal, boring even.

Bucky watched you pull a bunch of markers out of your kit and begin replicating the aesthetic of his vibranium arm onto Liam's plastic prosthetic. He let you gently move him as needed, and found himself in awe of how good your Sharpie skills were.

"You're really good," he said, speaking up for the first time.

Liam held most of the space in the conversation, which was fine by both of you. He told Bucky about his illness, and how even though he'd lost his arm, he was the "luckiest kid in New York" because he was alive and because he got to meet The Avengers. There were shades of adult in his words, like he'd been told of his own luck before.

While Liam spoke, you stole glances at Bucky. Mostly, his gaze was on Liam, sometimes darting over to you and away just as fast; he was avoiding eye contact. However, he quickly would turn to focus on particularly loud sounds or doors opening. If you'd had a chance to watch any of the other heroes in the room, you'd note they all did the same.

"Doin' okay, Liam?" you checked in when the boy had gone quiet.

Liam nodded frantically, not wanting to disappoint. "Yeah!" he affirmed.

"Maybe just need a little nap after this, huh buddy?" you asked.

"Maybe," he replied, relieved that there was a nap in his future.

"Think I might need one too," Bucky chimed in. Liam giggled like it was a joke.

"All done!" you announced.

When the very elated Liam was done tippy tapping and hugging, he ran off to show his parents how absolutely cool he was.

You and Bucky stood, both stretching out your limbs.

"Think you've made a friend for life there," you told him; he softly smiled in reply. "Can I just say something that might be way out of place? I just… I don't know… I feel like you need to hear it."

Bucky frowned, studied your face for a second. "Sure,"

"Okay… So… You do know that you deserve to be here, right?"

Mostly his expression was blank, then his head tilted to the side just a little. You'd been reading him the whole time, he realised. He felt exposed. But there was nowhere to run to.

"Maybe…" he finally settled on saying.

"Maybe?" you scoffed. "I mean, kids are lining up to meet you… And you're not questioning if, like, Wanda Maximoff or Natasha Romanoff should be here, you know what I mean?"

Bucky looked over to where Scarlet Witch and Black Widow were forming a girl gang. "They're different. It's different," he argued, but his words were laced with too much sadness for you to give in.

"Yeah… If you wanna get technical, weren't you the only one under mind control or whatever?" you posed.

Bucky looked at you, tried to figure out why you were being so… persistently kind. Your logic made sense, and something in him considered believing it.

"I'm just saying," you continued, "You deserve to be here. And if you don't wanna accept that, then it can be like… Liam deserves for you to be here."

That, Bucky could get behind. He nodded. "Thank you," he said, awkward but earnest.

You shrugged it off, then took a slow step towards him. "Hug?"

He blinked stupidly, then nodded, opening his arms and letting you step into them. While you wrapped your arms loosely around his neck, Bucky hesitated for a moment, then slid his arms around you. People around the room, even the ones that didn't know Bucky, watched how his hands lingered in the air before settling on your back. They saw how he melted into the hug, let his head rest on your shoulder and closed his eyes.

When you stepped away from each other, he'd inherited some of your fairy glitter.

"I'll see you next time, I guess," you offered, letting your sentence trail off enough that Bucky could catch it if he wanted. There was room for him to say anything. But, he just nodded.

Bucky watched you walk away.

Sam appeared at his side. "So, are you gonna-" Sam said, the amusement clear in his tone.

"Don't," Bucky interrupted.

"She's clearly-"

"I said don't," Bucky snapped, walking out of the room.

Sam went to follow, worried he'd genuinely upset his friend, but he caught Steve's eye. A subtle shake of the head told him to stand down.

…

Although you buried it deep inside, there was some small part of you that thought maybe you'd hear from Bucky. You weren't exactly sure why you thought that was going to happen. It was easy to let that idea fall in the face of logic though; he was an Avenger… very busy… very private… etc. etc. Nonetheless, that small part stayed alight, and it fed your dreams all the way through to the next time you would cross paths with Bucky again.

It was a different hospital, but the same type of event. Sparkle and shine and cheer the kids up. Although there were less Avengers than the first, the children were entirely chuffed with meeting their heroes. And, this event had something the previous did not. Thor. His laugh bellowed all through the ward's corridors, providing a sharp contrast to the otherwise sterile mundane life of the hospital.

Thor promised the children that it wasn't that they weren't worthy of wielding Mjolner, it was that they just weren't ready yet. "You're far too little! When you're big and strong, like me!" He filled the children with more hope than they'd had in a long time.

Your attention constantly being drawn to the larger-than-life Asgardian was a welcomed distraction… You were trying to give Bucky space, deciding that if he wanted to talk to you, he could. You wouldn't push it. Two superheroes that apparently did want to talk to you, though, were Falcon and Captain America.

Like you were their mission, there was hardly a second where one of them wasn't by your side. Sam was entirely unhelpful, giving creative input to all the face painting. He made the kids laugh though, often at jokes that went over their innocent heads. It was his sassy tone they really liked. Steve was a little calmer, answering weird and wonderful questions only children could think up.

They were both charming, personable, and genuinely fun to be around, but what were they doing? Were they trying to coax Bucky in? Provide a buffer? Or, no… Maybe they were keeping you from him? Shaking the thought from your head, you simply blew bubbles and painted faces and covered the room in confetti.

You would have liked to say you didn't notice when Bucky slipped from the room, not returning, but that small part of you most definitely did. It most definitely noticed and you most definitely felt the effect of him not speaking to you, not even offering a smile across the room.

"Did I do something?" you finally asked Steve, not needing to explain the context.

"No… It's not you…" he answered, looking over at the door Bucky had left through. "He's just… He's trying…"

…

The children's ward was quiet. It was like that on Tuesday mornings. No events. Rounds over. Just the everyday life of sick children and distraught parents. As you walked down the corridor, you glanced through open doorways on your way to the nurses' station.

It was a hard place to be.

Something caught your eye and you stopped yourself a second too late, passing the room before you could see what it was. A flash of something. Stepping back, you snuck a look around the corner.

A sunbeam off vibranium. Bucky Barnes was folded next to a bed, his arms crossed on the edge of the mattress, his head resting on them. He was asleep. You took a step into the room, then looked to the occupant of the bed. Your heart dropped. Liam.

Liam was asleep in bed, sweating and small.

Cautiously, you crept further into the room. Neither of them stirred, so you took a chair on the opposite side of the bed to Bucky and reached over to pick up Liam's chart from the end of his bed. It didn't say a lot, just the need-to-know for nurse rotation. But you knew those medications enough to know it was bad. Really bad. The emotions caught were too big. You put the chart back; the plastic-hitting-plastic sound it made woke Bucky up. He shot up, chair almost knocked to the ground if it weren't for his reflexes. He looked across the bed at you then, recognition instant. A worried expression took over his face.

"Y/N?"

"He's sick again," you said, your voice sounding far away.

Bucky tracked your gaze to Liam. He nodded. "Yeah… They, ah… It came back… His parents went home to get some sleep. I said I'd stay." When you didn't move, didn't say anything, Bucky grew nervous. He could hardly handle his own reaction, let alone yours too. "They, the hospital, got in touch when he came back in. Said that… I could help. Make him feel… brave, or… I don't know.. It's been a couple weeks, but…"

He couldn't bring himself to say it and you didn't need to hear it.

"I've… I've got to… go…" you said.

When you stood up, you wobbled on the spot and tried to take a step to the door. Bucky was next to you before you even clocked him moving.

"Come on. Don't wanna wake him," Bucky whispered, helping you out of the room gently.

In the corridor, away from the door, you felt the wet hot tears roll down your face. Stupid, you thought to yourself, you should be used to this. It's happened before. The obvious and cruel downside to volunteering in the pediatric ward of a hospital.

Bucky stood in front of you, watching for only a couple seconds before pulling you into a hug. He squeezed you into his chest, your arms curled comfortably between him and you.

"He's talked about you. He'd wanna see you... Come back this afternoon and see him."

You nodded, keeping your eyes shut tightly.

"Okay," you tried, your voice squeaky and small.

"Okay," Bucky repeated, trying to channel the humanity pre-Hydra Bucky showed when Steve's mother passed away. He knew what to say and do then. "You're okay… Go… Go do what ya need to. We'll be here. I've got him," he said.

When he let you go, you felt cold. You wiped your tears, nodded once and looked up at him.

"Go," he prompted, and you nodded again, turning and walking away.

…

"Yeah, I don't know what that is,"

"Finding Nemo?!" Liam repeated, like if he said it louder Bucky was more likely to recognise the title.

You chuckled from the seat next to Bucky's.

"You knew?" he asked.

"Everyone knows just keep swimming, Buck," you told him with a shrug.

"Guess that's another one for the list then," he said, pulling his phone out and adding the film to his ever-growing list of 'to watch'.

Hours could go by like that. You, Liam, and Bucky sitting around, reciting movie quotes to each other. Guessing titles. Laughing at all the gaps in Bucky's pop culture knowledge. Liam loved feeling smarter than an adult, and he completely lost himself in hysterical laughter when Bucky burst out his chair in joy when he finally recognised a film.

"Star Wars!" Bucky had screamed so loud the nurse came in to shush him. "Luke, I am your father!" Bucky whispered at her, grinning ear to ear. Then there was the Harry Potter time. "I got tricked into watching them," Bucky had said, shaking his head. Apparently, during his stay in Wakanda, Shuri had convinced him that Scarlet Witch and those who attended Hogwarts were from the same breed. He should, she said, watch it so he understands Wanda Maximoff better. Shuri would remember Bucky's face forever when he came back from visiting Team Cap.

"My turn," Liam said. He thought for a second. "I'm gonna make you an offer you can't refuse," he said, his voice forced as deep as his tiny child body would allow.

"Woah! Who let you watch that?!" you said, completely horrified.

"My cousin David," Liam snitched immediately. "The horse head didn't even look real,"

"It didn't," Bucky confirmed, again, happy to identify The Godfather. "Alright, my turn… Ah… Okay. Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine."

You were as lost as Liam.

"We give up," Liam reported after maybe five seconds of thinking.

"Casablanca?! Come on, guys. It's a classic!" Bucky argued.

"God, you're showing your age," you teased.

"Alright, you do better,"

"Easy," you cleared your throat for dramatic effect, "To infinity and beyond!"

"TOY STORY!" both Liam and Bucky yelled in unison.

Liam then taught Bucky how to act out the "Buzz, will you get up here and give me a hand?" scene, complete with thrown prosthetic.

…

"Theeeeeee… beeeeestest… leaf!"

You and Bucky ran off in opposite directions. The hospital courtyard wasn't exactly bursting at the seams with nature, but it was enough to complete a little scavenger hunt.

On Liam's orders, you returned with the most impressive leaf you could find. Bucky was right behind you. Handing them over, Liam carefully considered them from his bunded up seat in his wheelchair.

"The winner is…" he said, pausing to cough. "Y/N!"

"What?!" Bucky screeched.

"Calm down. It's one-all," you reminded him. His feather was iridescent therefore better than your grey pigeon one.

Bucky grinned at you, ever competitive and ever aiming to make Liam happy. "Alright," he said. "What's next, little man?"

…

"Not today, guys," the nurse replied when you ask if Liam could go for a walk.

"Maybe we'll just read a couple chapters of The Lord of the Rings then, yeah?" you said, turning your suggestion to Bucky.

Bucky nodded solemnly, suddenly and deeply affected by the reminder of Liam's weakening state, of mortality.

Before entering Liam's room, you reached out and touched Bucky's arm. He stopped, looked at you with glossy eyes. You don't wanna see it, think it, but sadness didn't take away from Bucky's beauty.

"You okay?" you asked.

It was a loaded question and almost a rhetorical one. Bucky knew that. He didn't answer, just gave you a weak, lopsided smile.

"You Sam or Frodo today?" he asked, shaking it off and moving again.

…

For the whole time you'd known Bucky, his size had always been so obvious. Sitting beside children, beside Liam, he looked like a giant. Even next to the nurses that came and went he towered. Small hospital chairs. Small plastic cups. Small, sanitised rooms.

So, when you turned the corner and saw Bucky sitting on the floor of the pediatric ward's hallway, looking so fucking small, it stopped you in your tracks. His head was in his hands, and you knew what it meant.

Slowly, step by heavy step, you walked the hallway and came to stand in the doorway of what was once Liam's room. The bed had been stripped of linen, but wasn't yet made ready for the next patient. The charts were gone, and the many tubes and plastic bags of chemicals too. A crushed, empty juice box was on the ground.

Behind you, a nurse cleared her throat.

"Y/N… I'm so sorry… We tried to call ya this morning but-"

"I left my phone at home… I was running late. Locked myself out my apartment. Left half my kit there too. Was late to this fairy party gig I had downtown… Bad day… and-" you were rambling, tears slowly running down your face. The nurse's hand gently cupping your shoulder stopped you.

"S'alright, love… Nothing you could've done. But it's good you're here now. Reckon the Sergeant here might need a little TLC, yeah?"

Nodding, you wiped your tears away on the sleeve of your hoodie. Suddenly, it felt ridiculous to be wearing a pink tutu.

The nurse left you alone with Bucky.

Bucky, who had not moved a single inch since you arrived. Bucky, who looked small. Bucky.

"Let's go," you said, kneeling on the lino floor in front of him. "Think maybe a crying fairy and ah, statue Winter Soldier might confuse the kids… So… let's go."

You thought maybe he wasn't going to reply, but he lifted his head, faced up. Bucky's eyes were rimmed red, but they were dry. He looked haunted. Shaking his head the smallest amount, he told you, "I… I can't… can't leave him…"

"Okay… Okay, yeah. Um…" You looked up and down the hallway, trying to think while your head was drowning in grief. "Alright, um… My van is downstairs, in the lot. Let's just… I don't know, get that far."

Bucky just starred at you. For one… two… three… "Yeah, okay," he agreed, standing.

He didn't say a word as he followed you into the elevator and down to the carpark. People tried to not stare as you walked by.

Arriving at your van, you opened the back and shoved some things out of the way, pulling the small mattress and pillows down from where they were propped up against the side. Turning to face Bucky, you read the confusion in his face.

"Oh, ah… I don't live in it… I just…" There was no point in sugar-coating at that point. "I spend half my time around sick kids, you know? I need somewhere to be when it gets too much. Somewhere to… cry or sleep for an hour or whatever."

Bucky looked from the van to you, gave you a small nod of acknowledgement.

"We can just stay here… for as long as you need…" you offered, feeling embarrassment swell in you, but it quickly gave way to the apathy summoned by abject grief.

If Bucky thought it was weird, he didn't say and you wouldn't have cared. He didn't though. He moved to sit where he could politely unlace his boots and nudge them under the van, then he scooted back onto the mattress, laid down. You crawled in after him, closing the doors behind you.

He'd returned to his state of seeming too big for his surroundings, curled up in the back of your van. When you laid down next to him, he looked over at you. "Thank you," he said, voice croaky.

As tears began to form in his eyes, you had the grace to pretend not to notice. "I think there's a blanket somewhere…" You sat up, looking over a box of costume fairy wings. Before you could locate the blanket, Bucky's arms wrapped gently around your waist, pulling you into him.

Your back was to his chest, his face buried somewhere between your neck and the pillow.

"I'll keep you warm," Bucky said, "Hold me closer." So, you did, putting your arms over his and threading your fingers between his. You didn't need to be kept warm, but he needed to hold onto something solid, someone living, breathing, real, and there. He needed you.

…

Usually, sleeping in the back of the van was fine. When a super soldier was taking up 80% of the space, however… different story. You lasted forty minutes before snaking your way out, jumping over the front bench seat to sit behind the wheel.

Bucky was definitely dead to the world. You could hear his heavy sleep-induced breathing. But, you couldn't just drive off with him in the back. That would pretty much be kidnapping an Avenger, right? You looked over the seat at Bucky. Waking him up seemed like an equally bad idea, both practically and morally speaking. He was so peaceful.

So, against your better judgement, you got out, grabbed his boots, and jumped back in, putting the key in the ignition and turning.

At every car horn, New York pedestrian, and sharp turn, you glanced over to see if he'd been startled awake. Alas, sleeping beauty. After about fifteen minutes of sitting on your phone when you'd arrived home, parked in the back lot of your apartment complex, you ran out of feeds to refresh. Leaving the car key close to Bucky, where he'd see it, you left him there, figuring he'd probably be able to defend himself if anyone tried to steal the van.

Hours later, close to midnight, you found yourself walking around your place, lost and teary. Pulling your nightgown on, you left your apartment and ventured outside. It was cold. That type of night time chill that only exists when you're at your most sad. Bone freezing. Visible breathing.

There was no reply when you knocked on the back door of the van. Opening it, you were startled by Bucky's upright frame. He was sitting awake, back to the interior wall.

"Buck?"

No reply.

You were a little scared. Unsure of what to do next.

"I… I thought you could use the sleep. We're at my place now…"

Still, nothing.

"Do you want to come inside?"

You chewed your lip for a second, waited, but he remained still. His super soldier body would be fine without food or water for a little while longer, you reasoned. And, he constantly radiated heat.

"I'm apartment 5C. Come up when you're ready."

He didn't look over as you closed the door and retreated back into the safety of your home. There, you cried. Grieved. Tried to sleep. You told yourself you would make him come inside in the morning.

…

The sun rose red over New York City. You'd left your blinds open all night; waking up to natural like was meant to be good for you. Sitting up, you stretched the last remnants of a restless sleep off your heavy body and stepped out of bed.

Maybe Bucky got himself in overnight. Crept in through an unlocked window. Used some sort of superhero technology to unlock the front door. He wasn't on the couch, though, or anywhere in the apartment.

Teeth brushed and coffee brewing, you once again donned the nightgown and headed outside.

At least he's lying down, you thought, opening the van door.

Bucky was back under the blanket. He was awake, the lines under his eyes deep set and sharing space with purple shadows.

"Come on," you said. "You can't stay here. People are gonna come looking for you."

Slowly, Bucky rolled his head to the side to look at you. Previously, he was staring at the van ceiling. "Steve knows," he told you, throwing his phone over. It landed on the blanket with a gentle thud.

You didn't pick it up.

Bucky continued, "Messaged him last night. Phone's dead now,"

"Um… okay… Well, you should still come inside. There's more room,"

"I'm fine."

It wasn't defiance as much as it was apathy. You wanted to say something. Anything. Be reassuring. But to be honest, you were surprised by his grief.

Surely, the Winter Solider knew loss. Surely, he'd mourned and learnt to cope.

No… No, this was different, you told yourself. The first child who passed away when you started working with the hospitals destroyed you. It took a month to even go back to the pediatric ward. Since then, you'd put things into perspective and learnt to process everything a bit better. Not as equipped as the doctors and nurses to do so, but able enough to survive the pain.

The pain. Entirely unique. Something Bucky hadn't felt before.

He really thought he'd felt all the types of bad there was to feel. He really thought he was no longer able to love. Besides Steve. And Sam. Wanda. Nat. Shuri… Okay, so he was kidding himself. Still. It fucking hurt.

…

Around lunch, you took Bucky some food. Around dinner, you found it untouched but replaced it anyway.

It was a Sunday night. In the morning you were expected over at the palliative care centre. Reading aloud to the patients helps.

At 5:30 am, you woke from a fever dream. After shoving the sheets in the apartment building's basement washer, you called the centre.

"Oh, no worries, Y/N," they told you. "Sally's bringin' her new puppy in today. That ought to bring some cheer to the place anyway."

Guilt alleviated only slightly, you trekked to the van.

At least he'd nibbled on dinner at some point.

"Bucky?"

It was dark still, the sun only just waking up. You could make out Bucky's form in amongst your stuff.

"You have to come inside today. I…" Guilt. Maybe a guilt trip would work. "I need my van for work…" It almost sounded like a question. "And, I'm sure you've got things you need to do…" No response. "Superhero stuff?"

A muffled snort, but nothing else.

…

"Any chance you can just leave him there?"

For a second, you thought Steve was joking. The silence at the end of the line said otherwise.

"Ah, I mean, it's been almost two days,"

"I can get a car sent over to you if-"

"No," you interrupted. "That's not it. I'm just… Is this normal?"

Steve sighed. "There's not a normal for us, Y/N. There's just… coping… day by day."

Holding in tears, you nodded to yourself. "Yeah, okay. I, ah, just wanted to check in. See if there's anything I should be doing,"

"I'd wager that you're already doing it… It means something that he's chosen to be near you. He could have run. He does sometimes. So, really, for him, this is… progress. He trusts you."

You're weren't sure what you'd done to deserve that.

"Thanks, Steve,"

"Anytime. Call anytime, Y/N."

When you'd phone Stark Tower looking for help, you didn't really expect to be taken seriously. As it turned out, they were waiting for your call.

…

To your relief, Bucky was sitting up when you opened the van doors around 5 pm. He watched in interest as you awkwardly climbed in, handing him the tray you were carrying so you could settle in next to him.

"Choc chip cookies and tea," you announced, not letting him give the tray back. "And I'm not leaving until you drink your cup and have at least two cookies."

Bucky looked down at the presentation in his lap. "Guess I can't argue with that."

You chewed your cookie slowly, making sure you'd not finish before him.

"Did you make these?"

"Yeah… I bake when I'm… Whatever," you replied.

He nodded, then took another bite.

"You called Steve?"

"How'd-"

Bucky shrugged. "Just figured you would. What'd he say?"

"Um… That you're okay here," you told him.

Bucky didn't reply, instead picked up his mug of tea and held it between his palms. The china softly chinked against his left hand.

You wanted to ask if he was indeed okay, but you weren't sure of what you'd be able to say if he lied. Or told the truth. Or anything in between.

When the tray was empty of food, you climbed out of the van, and half-heartedly asked if he was coming inside.

"I'm fine here," was his equally half-hearted reply.

Together, maybe, you could make a whole person, something functioning and able to cope better than either of you were doing alone.

Back inside your apartment, you ran out of plain flour and dishes to clean. All that was left to do was mourn.

…

It had been three nights and days since you'd arrived home from the hospital. Almost eighty hours of saying goodbye to Liam and telling yourself to be grateful that you knew him, and that you were able to help him laugh and find joy in his final few weeks. Hours of phone calls to friends, family, and your favourite nurses. Hours of standing at your apartment door, ready to march down to the van and pull Bucky out by his boots. Hours of it all.

Like all things though, good or bad, it was waning and you were beginning to see how you could survive.

You were sitting at the kitchen bench, practising your pipe cleaner and pom pom crown-making skills when there was a knock on the door. Glancing at your phone as you stood, you thought it was around dinner time. Probably next door, asking to borrow an egg. Or the old lady from down the hall that always made too much lasagne.

Without checking the peephole, you opened the door with your best polite smile ready.

Bucky.

The sight of him hit you, not like a tidal wave, but a waist-deep wave that knocks you back unexpectedly. You stumbled, had to refocus. Felt a little out of control.

Out of the mess of the back of the van, it was easier to see how utterly fucked he looked. His long hair was ratty, visibly knotted in parts. Expression strung out, he looked like he was in amphetamine withdrawal. His skin was too shiny, and his clothes were crumpled and damp in places.

Bucky went to speak, but the words got caught in his throat. He looked pained, then sniffled and wiped his nose on the back of his hoodie's arm.

Without any warning, you burst into tears.

Your hands went up to cup your mouth but it was too late. The sobs were heaving up from deep inside you, and Bucky was born with too much empathy to not be affected. Tears began to roll down his face.

And that was it. Any pretence or attempt to be stoic was entirely dissolved. You crumbled into each other.

Bucky wrapped his arms around you and you pressed your head hard into his chest, almost pushing against him like you were trying to push the feelings out of yourself.

"I know," he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

As his arms tightened around your body, you could feel how it was calming you. It was only a short term relief from the grief, but it was the very least Bucky could think to do. Holding you wasn't going to make anything better, but it made you both feel less alone.

Showers and fuzzy bed socks. Hot cocoa and trashy television. Sleeping close. Waking up together.

From the deep unwanted darkness of grief, something was determined to find a way to grow.

Tag list (open): @browngirlmagic @lookalivefrosty @aynaraxas @vibraniumwitch @the--sad--hatter @bubbabarnes

(not sure if you want to be tagged in new fics @animegirlgeeky?) 

[sincerelyreidburke]

Can you tell us more about Reid and Bri? Like their dynamic and maybe how they got together??

Toby, have I mentioned lately that I appreciate you??? Yes, I can absolutely say more about them— I love Reid and Bri, and they’ve sort of become my token wholesome long-term M/F couple in this OC-verse. (I would say they’re the “token straights,” but since Reid is bi, that’s not even true. The actual token straights are Maggie and her boyfriend, but I haven’t introduced him yet, and he doesn’t even go to Kiersey, so... okay, anyway.)

Yes. Thank you. The Kiersey-verse means that I can elaborate on things I would’ve felt self-conscious talking about before, and for that I am very grateful.

Let’s hop under the cut and I’ll tell you how Reid and Bri met, and some stuff about their dynamic, et cetera. (And as a general note, you can always ask me anything about my OCs!)

SO. Reid and Bri. We’ve seen them together in a fic once, but it was this prologue, from Sp*ncer’s perspective, and poor Bri only got to say, like, one line. Reid on his own is someone we’ve seen a lot more extensively, at least in comparison to Bri. He’s become a heavy player in all things to do with Quinn’s freshman year theatre experience, but he’s also come up in other places now— like this ficlet where you get a glimpse into his friendship with Cole.

So there’s that. We know Reid. We know he has a girlfriend. I will now rewind back to their freshman year and tell you how they met.

First of all, Reid is from Wisconsin and Bri is from Missouri, which I guess isn’t crucial for you to know but just felt like information I should provide. They didn’t know each other before college, obviously. When they get to Kiersey, they don’t meet right away; I think they wind up meeting around halfway through the fall semester of their first year, or maybe even later than that?

The way they meet goes like this. I think the drama club likes hiring art students to help design their sets, and that year, for the fall production, they need a backdrop painted. Bri isn’t a theatre person in the strict sense of knowing much about drama, but she did help paint sets in high school because she was an art kid, and she had the drama teacher for English class, and probably got recruited. When she sees a flyer on campus advertising help wanted, and learns that they’ll pay her to do it, she signs up and winds up painting for them.

Reid is in the fall play that year, because he pretty much dives right into the drama club as soon as he’s on campus. Freshman Reid is a hilarious thing to imagine, because he wasn’t a leader yet but definitely still was a ham who loved to make people laugh and attract attention.

So Bri is painting the set onstage, with probably at least a few other people helping with sets, and Reid is headed into the theater to, I don’t know, pick something up or maybe just to mess around, and he comes into the house being super obnoxious (he’s probably singing something), and then—

Reid walking down the aisle in the theater: tonight the SUPER TROOPER lights are gonna find me SHINING LIKE THE SUN— (notices there are people onstage doing something) Oh, shit— sorry, Art Students!!!!!!!!

In the end, Reid goes up and starts obnoxiously interviewing the Art Students, and that is how he strikes up a conversation with Bri. He thinks she’s cute, and so he starts flirting, and he’s funny so she kind of digs it, and by the time someone chases him away because Reid they’re making the set and they need to concentrate, he’s dead set on seeking out this Art Student (yes, he did learn her name during that interaction) because she’s cute and he wants to keep talking to her.

He winds up showing up for the next set-making session, and by the end of that, he has her number. The rest, my friends, is history. They date all through college, and I told you about how he tries to break up with her during his angsty self-deprecation hours in their post-college life (if you’re confused, click here), but on their general dynamic.........

Reid loves Bri because she’s creative and compassionate and free-spirited, and Bri loves Reid because he’s authentic and caring and he makes her laugh. This is a broad over-simplification, but you get the picture. They’re very mutually supportive of each other— she goes to his theatre shows, and he goes to her art shows...... and yes, obviously there’s more to a relationship than supporting each other’s hobbies, but I think because they’re both art types, that’s an important thing for them.

Reid’s entire life is like, *Bri does something* THAT’S MY GIRLFRIEND!!!!!!!!!!

Anytime any minor inconvenience happens in my life, I keep saying, you know who wouldn’t treat me like this? Reid Burke. And it’s now a meme among certain individuals who shall remain anonymous in this post, but it’s true, because Reid is a really fantastic boyfriend. His number one mission in life is to make Bri smile, and he absolutely succeeds at it.

Bri feels a little like she needs to keep track of his chaos sometimes, and thus refers to watching Reid at parties as “boyfriend-sitting.” Drunk Reid is harmless; he goes from wanting to start a rave to wanting to do nothing but cuddle Bri and tell his friends he loves them in about three seconds flat.

Drunk Reid: I fucKING love you Jhiron

More sober Jhiron: fuck off

Drunk Reid: :’) he loves me too

Uhhhh......... what else. I can’t remember where I said this, but they wind up having three children. Reid definitely passes his sense of humor down to them. I cannot express how important laughter is as Reid’s love language.

Bri is straight, and we know that he’s bi. She’s a great ally. Also her parents hate him. LOL. They think he’s a bum who’s never going to get a job. It’s a good thing he proves them wrong.

Hm. At Kiersey, they get breakfast together every morning; it’s their thing, which is why you saw them having breakfast in the dining hall in that one Sp*ncer fic. Now don’t mind me while I cry imagining them cooking breakfast for their kids. Why am I emotional?

I can... write something with them, if there is demand for that? You guys know the drill; I’m always open to your ideas and suggestions. And also, thank you, Toby, for asking. I don’t really play favorites with characters, but Reid has a special place in my heart.

[wlntrsldler]

18 (Ransom Drysdale Series)

PROMPT: You’ve always been sweet, innocent, young, Y/N. You played by your parents’ rules for way too long. Feeling like you’ve finally had enough, you decide to break some rules and “date” the arrogant son of a bitch, Ransom Drysdale. 

SERIES WARNING: SMUT!!!! 18+ content, strong language, parental defiance lol and asshole Ransom

Song Inspiration: 18 by Anarbor

CHAPTER 1

-

“What do you mean I can’t go?” You yelled, pacing across your father’s study. “I pushed back my education for four years to help you run the company. I want to go to college. Now.”

“Y/N, darling, I don’t understand why you’re pushing so hard to go to school.” He shrugged, not looking up from his computer screen. “We’re giving you the company when the time comes. It’s millions of dollars on a silver platter.”

You rolled your eyes, slamming your palms on his wooden table. He flinched, startled at your actions. “I don’t want this stupid company. I want to study and get my degree. I don’t wanna rely on mommy and daddy’s money.”

“If you go to college, you’ll still be relying on our money.” He challenged, shutting his laptop and slowly getting up from his seat. “Watch your attitude, young lady.”

You back away from him, grabbing your coat on the way out of his office. “I’m 22.”

The door slammed behind you as you stormed out of your parents’ house. Fucking self-entitled pricks, you thought, jamming the keys into your jeep. Your parents inherited all their wealth from their own parents and expected you to do the same. 

It’s not like you didn’t want the money. You just wanted to do something more than run a company. You wanted to do something for yourself, something you were passionate about. Not some real-estate company that’s had its share of scandals and drama. It was a company born from blood and broken trust. It wasn’t something you were necessarily eager to inherit.

Your mother always told you that it didn’t matter where it came from, all that matters is that you have it now. You looked at her like she had three heads sprouting from her neck. Of course they never saw the errors of their ways, only caring if it hurt their profits, not if it violated their morals. You still loved them, they were family after all, so you bit your tongue. For four extra years. 

They begged and guilt-tripped you into staying and helping them run the company instead of going off to college. So you caved and stayed. You knew that if you pursued a different major, like law or medicine, they would be overjoyed. Hell, they’d write you the check for your tuition and not ask any questions if you asked for more money. But because you chose “Creative Writing” as your major, they didn’t support it.

To them a career in writing was laughable. “What are you gonna do with a Creative Writing degree?” You father asked one, his voice laced with disappointment. You never brought it up again. Well until today. 

You glanced at your phone to check the clock. 12:27 PM. Is it too early to get wasted?

“Fuck it,” You mumbled. “It’s 6PM somewhere.”

You maneuvered your way through the town, pulling up to a very familiar bar. You became a patron of the bar at the young age of 17, back when you needed a fake I.D to get in. Your parents never found out about your teenage escapades, you were always good at hiding your bad side. The bar owner, Joel, found out that you were a minor when you turned 21 and suddenly started going by a new name on your I.D. Thankfully, you became one of his favorite customers so he let it slide. 

You walked in, relishing the familiar scent of alcohol and peanuts. 

“Y/N!” Joel called from behind the bar, wiping down a beer glass. “The usual?”

“Make it a double.” Joel quirked an eyebrow, as if asking “What the hell happened?” You shook you head, taking your seat at the bar. You waved him off, “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Someone had a bad day.” 

You turned to the side, trying to figure out who the voice belonged to. The stranger smirked behind his whiskey glass, his eyes darting to look at you. Baby blue. Blue as a motherfucker. Damn. He put his glass down the polished wood, his lips coming to full view. Pink. Looks so soft. Damn. You cleared your throat, trying to regain your sanity in front of the handsome stranger. “Didn’t you hear me? Don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Watch your attitude, sweetheart.”

“You sound like my dad.” You scoffed, taking a sip of the liquid that Joel placed in front of you. You drowned the liquor in one go, not even flinching at the bitter taste. 

“Another,” The handsome stranger called out to Joel. He moved a seat over so he was sitting right beside you. Dear God, he looked even prettier up close. You studied his features. Cable knit, designer scarf, clean shaven face. You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to place where you know him from. He pulled out the wad of 100′s from his pocket, earning a laugh from you. Rich kid. “What?”

“I can pay for my own, thank you very much.” 

“You’re sippin’ on something expensive.” 

You drowned the second glass again, staring at him dead in the eye. You went in your back pocket and pulled out your black card. “I know it is. That’s why I order it.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, his lips curling up to another smirk. “What? I can’t pay for a pretty little thing like you?”

“Eat it.” 

He mouthed a sarcastic, “Wow,” his laughter filling the empty space between you two. 

“I came here to drink, not to get hit on.”

“I’m here so you’ll be getting both.” He stated, motioning to fill both your glasses again. “Ransom Drysdale.”

Drysdale? Oh shit. Your family’s biggest competition in real-estate.”Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Oh, you’re a Y/L/N.” Ransom chuckled, swirling the ice in his glass. “Wait, are you the golden child?”

You rolled your eyes at the nickname that the media branded you with. The nickname was your parents’ doing, wanting the public to accept you with open arms. Your parents made sure that you stayed out of the tabloids, not for your own safety of course. They wanted to rebrand the company once it was your turn to run it, understanding that the drama that existed prior to your existence was enough for a lifetime. “Don’t call me that.”

“What’s wrong with being the golden child, sweetheart?”

“Don’t call me that either.”

“What can I call you?”

“I have a name.”

“Well, what if I don’t like it?”

“Well, too bad.” 

Ransom played with the ice in his glass again, mesmerized by the sound of the clinking. He stayed quiet for a moment before he spoke up again. “What are you doing here?”

“I came here to drink, like I said.”

“I don’t think your parents would like the idea of their golden child drinking her ass off mid-day with the spawn of their biggest competition.”

“I don’t care about what they like.” You mumbled, sipping on the liquor. You toyed with the peanuts on the plastic tray. 

He gasped sarcastically, following your lead with playing with the peanuts. “Are you rebelling?”

“Shut up.” 

“Why the fuck are you so rude?” He snapped, his demeanor suddenly changing. 

“Why the fuck are you being civil? Isn’t that the opposite of your brand?” 

“You want me to be disrespectful?” He whispered, that smirk coming back to his face. “I can be real disrespectful, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Ransom shot you a knowing look, “Well, if you ask me, I think it’s time for you to rebel.” 

“I never confirmed that I was rebelling.”

“I know what it looks like when someone rebels because their parents piss them all the way off,” Ransom started, getting up from his seat. He pulled out the wad of 100′s again and dropped a hefty tip for Joel. “I’ve mastered that. Let me know how if you need help with it.”

You twisted your neck to watch him walk out of the bar. He took the brown coat from the coat rack and slipped it over his body. He pushed the door open, signaling the bell. Before he fully left, he turned back around to leave you with a final remark. “But when you do ask me for help, and you will,” He licked his lips. “Keep running your mouth because I’ve been thinking about all the ways I can shut you up.”

Your face flushed upon hearing his words, crossing your legs. Joel looked at you, amused at the interaction that unfolded before him. He picked up the bills that Ransom left and wiped down the counter. “You gonna call him?”

“Hell, no.” 

Maybe. 

[itsclydebitches]

RWBY Recaps: “A Night Off”

So RWBY has this weird thing going on in Volume 7 where it’ll give me a truly horrendous episode and then manage to turn things around just enough so that, despite my frustrations, I quite like parts of the next week’s stuff. That proceeds to get my hopes up, only for them to turn around mess it all up again in the following episode.

What I’m saying is, I should expect next week to be a pretty rough ride.

First, let me chuck out the details I personally loved in this episode that fit better together than spread out across a recap. Namely, treating Oscar like an actual human being. Thank you, Rooster Teeth, for:

Having him continually be involved by monitoring Jaune’s aura levels. (It likewise hasn’t escaped my notice how much he’s been paired with JNR lately. The fandom might get their new ‘P’ after all.)

Giving Oscar some thoughts and feelings beyond just the Ozpin situation. He’s worried about not having his semblance yet. Hark! A characterization!

Nora very kindly firing back with, “Well, I bet we’ll all be jealous when you do.”

Yang using Oscar as a convenient armrest. Granted, Yang hasn’t exactly treated him well enough lately to have earned that kind of casual buddy-buddy-ness, but if the writing is never going to call the group out on their Volume 6 behavior then I’ll take unearned kindness over continued indifference or cruelty

Jaune going out to the movies with Oscar and them both inviting Weiss. I mean, same issue here. Why is Oscar so comfortable and eager to hang out with the guy who attacked him? I wish that we had some acknowledgment that these kinds of things don’t just disappear once someone apologizes. Jaune still hurt Oscar, badly enough to leave him flinching against a wall... and none of that even takes into account Oscar’s supposed hesitation about lying to Ironwood. He should be acting more like Ren, involved with the group yet wary at the same time.

In addition, keep in mind that Oscar is currently living in this happy bubble where everyone has chosen to forget that Ozpin exists. I’m still highly suspicious of how they’ll treat him once Ozpin is out in the open again and Oscar is the convenient scapegoat for their anger. As said though, for now I’ll take it. I mean, look at that smile.

Right. Onto the actual plot.

We open on the aftermath of the Mantle riots, which is somewhat disappointing. I had hoped the group would actually be involved in that, giving them the chance to tackle a situation where brute force can’t be the go-to answer. You can’t punch out desperate citizens or run them through with your scythe. Instead, Ironwood’s men are handling it and we reconvene with the group the next day, election day. For the record, we know it has only been a day---and not longer rioting as I initially assumed---because Weiss comments that her father dropped that bombshell “the day before the election.” Which for me just speaks to how much time must have passed during those training montages. The political parts of this volume couldn’t have happened in any short amount of time. 

We’re shown an interview with Hill wherein she quite firmly doesn’t condone the rioting, but admits that there are good reasons for it as well. Her body guard stands very awkwardly in the background in a way I don’t think the shot really needs.

We then segue back into the group training and, like I mentioned above with Oscar, there are a lot of details here that I really enjoyed. Two of which are Weiss creating a mini version of her knight to sneak up on Winter---yes, please show us this kind of creativity in the actual fights---and Nora and Jaune practicing with a rubber ball. Ren is also deep in meditation while all this going on, which raises some questions about how aware of the world he is in this state. Is he able to simply ignore all the commotion, even Ruby flying straight at him? Is he so deep down that he’s entirely disconnected until he resurfaces? If so, does he only meditate like this when he’s 100% sure he’s in a safe place? Would the group be able to wake him if something were to happen?

As you can see, I’m obviously a little too invested in details and world building lol.

Speaking of world building though, we learn a little bit more about semblances here. Namely that, like hinted at in Volume Five and recently with Harriet, all their semblances are “evolving.” Jaune can apparently regenerate his own aura now, much more quickly than he could before. And Ruby...

Okay, real talk. Did I miss something here? It’s entirely possible I did, but if not what even was that conversation between Ruby and Oscar? She flies at the pillar Ren is seated under, divides into three rose petal clusters to get around it, and recombines on the other side. You know, the thing we’ve known she can do for a long while now. Since Volume Four I believe. Except then we get this exchange:

Oscar: Have you always been able to do that?

Ruby: I don’t know. I don’t normally think it through that much.

What are you talking about? Of course you know, Ruby! This isn’t a new technique. And what do you mean by, “I don’t normally think it through that much”? Is the writing trying to imply that she’s done the split thing so instinctively in the past she didn’t even notice she was doing it? I’m just massively confused by this moment. Others have pointed out that the writing tends to make up easy to solve “problems” for the cast to deal with so it looks like they’re achieving some kind of growth. The most egregious example being Ruby’s lack of hand-to-hand in Volume 5, culminating in a single headbutt against Mercury. Notably, this supposed flaw hasn’t resurfaced at all since then. Not even, say, when she’s at a party without her weapon and Tyrian attacks...

This feels like another moment where they just threw out something random to make it look like Ruby is improving alongside with the other, actual developments they’ve managed to think through, such as Jaune’s aura. Which is particularly strange considering Ruby was set up as the one to evolve her semblance. Which will probably still happen... but why paint an old skill as new along the way? It’s just all very strange.

Anyway, we get a nice shot of Ren coming out of his meditation where the whole world is gray like when he activates his semblance. Excellent visual cue as to his emotional state. This continues as Ironwood arrives and the group lays into him about needing to trust Hill. Which is hilarious considering that none of them are currently trusting Ironwood. He points out that common ground can only exist “if she’s open too”---unlikely given the second half of the episode---and Nora is about to challenge that when Ren interrupts, asking about mission assignments. Ironwood announces that they’re getting the night off instead.

Note though how guilty Ruby looks after all that talk of trusting others.

We cut to the girls later that night in their room, listening to the election news and getting ready to go out. It’s all very cute, but I think Nora is onto something regarding how Blake and Yang are always together. It’s so blatantly obvious they’re falling for one another, especially after this episode, and I’m honestly thrilled we’re finally getting some queer rep beyond former villains and minor characters. However, I hope that as Blake and Yang’s relationship develops that the writers don’t completely lose track of their co-dependency issues as well. Meaning, Yang totally wrote Blake off because she “ran away,” AKA went home precisely like Yang did, warping a natural and understandable choice into a personal betrayal. Blake in turn broke down sobbing and promised Yang to never ever leave her again. Separation is not a new issue for them. Their desire to spend every waking moment together is definitely cast as romantic now, but it’s also tied up in their inability to function well without each other. As we saw recently, a throwaway comment about fighting with someone else generates legitimate anger in both of them. Couples have to be able to spend time apart, so I hope the writing eventually lets the girls work through all that as well. 

For now though, they’re going dancing with FNKI. Very bad dancing based on what little we see. It’s enough to convince Weiss that the movies are her best choice here. Especially since she’s clearly not interested in Hill’s preemptive victory party. We see a tiny bit of that tension between Weiss’ views and Nora’s, but nothing with any substance. We just keep getting tiny glimpses that Nora is potentially passionate about the people of Mantle before it’s all quickly overshadowed by her romance drama with Ren. More on that in a moment.

The two of them plus Ruby make their way out into the streets where Ren admits that, “We spent so much time worrying about how Ironwood would react to the truth about [Salem], but have any of us even considered how we’re going to beat her if we work past that?”

Ruby reminds them that Jinn told Ozpin he couldn’t destroy her. Nora: “Maybe someone else could?”

It only took you weeks to figure that out! Though I love how this still---still---apparently has no bearing on how they view Ozpin. This was another perfect, quiet moment where three characters, notably three of the least angry characters, could have acknowledged how terrifying this information is. How they still can’t bring themselves to tell Ironwood, a man who thus far has done nothing but support them. Wow, I totally get why Ozpin would have trouble telling us. Oh also, we just realized that maybe Jinn’s information was specific to him. Maybe someone else can destroy Salem. That’s a pretty big revelation. I wonder if Ozpin himself realizes that? We should probably try to talk to him at some point.

It’s while they’re talking about the heavy stuff that Ren mutters about how they should still be training. Nora counters that they deserve a night off and the two of them clash enough to walk off angry. We see now at least part of what’s been bothering Ren lately. Nora is a very bubbly, silly, go-with-the-flow sort of person, whereas he is hyper focused on becoming as strong as possible in the hopes of finding a way out of this Salem mess. He doesn’t want to hear compliments while searching for a geist, or have her playing with his hair while on patrol, or turn training into a conversation about their relationship, or waste time on frivolous parties. There’s obviously a happy medium between Ren’s work ethic and Nora’s relaxed attitude, though they haven’t worked through that at all because they’re too busy kissing. Again, more on that in a second.

They reach the party, Penny is there, Nora and Ren dive into another fight that serves to canonize both them and Blake/Yang. Nora comments about how they’re spending so much time together, Ren observes that they’re at least friends again, and the response is,

Nora: “Friends, huh? Just friends?” Ren: “What else would they be? Nora: “Two people who have gone through so much? I think there’s more going on...”

It’s clear at this point that Nora is talking about them rather than Yang/Blake, but the initial comparison holds. Though she uses them as an in to discuss her own relationship, I doubt she was lying here. She clearly views them as a parallel to her and Ren: two partners who have been through a great deal together and, as a result, have grown to love each other as more than just friends. Those who insist that Rooster Teeth isn’t heading in a Blake/Yang direction don’t have much of a leg to stand on anymore. That ship (ha) has long since sailed. 

Ruby sneaks away from their fight though nothing terribly exciting happens. She adorably clings to Penny’s arm. They adorably fist-bump (ouch). Marrow and Hill get into a conversation about making change and whether or not she’ll accomplish that within the bounds of the law. Funny... I thought we saw that very same theme last volume. If only the writing acknowledged that there’s a connection between this conversation and our protagonists. We’re supposed to see both sides of the situation here: Hill’s need to bend the rules once in a while and Marrow’s desire to keep the peace; how the law is a man-mad construct that’s far from perfect and the importance of making change in a way that will stick---namely, legally. Here is a complex look at a morally difficult question and notably both Marrow and Hill are minor characters. It’s only when RWBYJNR is involved that the message moves from ‘Each side has a point’ to ‘Teens are 100% justified in breaking the law and anyone trying to stop them is an evil, crazy racist.’

It honestly astounds me that Rooster Teeth can give us that subtly here but never when it comes to our heroes.

When Ruby finally returns she finds Ren and Nora still fighting. As she snuck off we heard Ren admitting---in the round-about way of theirs, pretending that they’re talking about other people---that he’s worried, there’s a lot going on right now, and basically implying that he doesn’t know how (or doesn’t want) to balance a new relationship on top of all the horrific Salem business. Which, fair. The problem is that they don’t discuss this. Hill’s speech about how they’re always stronger together resonates with Nora and she tries to initiate a conversation, asking Ren to explain more fully what’s bothering him. To talk about it. He admits that talking has never been his strong suit.

I expected this to segue into a cliche, “Well try” moment and we’d finally get Ren and Nora bonding outside of their jokes and silent communication. Sadly, that didn’t happen. Look, I’m all for a renora kiss, but we have got to stop portraying sexual assault as romantic. Because that’s what Nora does here. It doesn’t matter how sure she (or we as the audience) are that Ren will like this kiss in the end. Grabbing someone and kissing them without their consent is sexual assault. Ren has not agreed to kiss her. He hasn’t expressed any desire here to kiss here. He’s completely blindsided by it and is flailing before he gives in.

People will justify this because, again, we all “know” that Ren secretly wants it and will be grateful that Nora got him past his fear. But that’s a terrible message to perpetuate in a world where others insist they also “know” when someone “really” wants them (they don’t) and where kissing or sex is seen as an easy way to supposedly solve problems between a couple. How many times have we seen an angry woman in media essentially told to shut up by a guy kissing her? The message is that her thoughts and grievances aren’t important here. The man knows her better than she knows herself and the second her forces her to start kissing him she realizes that’s really all she needed all along. That trope isn’t redeemed by changing the gender dynamic. Ren clearly has problems with their relationship that he’s struggling to work through. Nora clearly recognizes as much. Yet instead of acknowledging them and overcoming them, she erases any potential development by forcing him into a kiss. I’m sorry, it doesn’t matter how much Ren enjoys it a few seconds in. The continued message that forcing sexual intimacy on someone will fix both their hesitation and your relationship problems has go to stop. Kissing Nora doesn’t magically solve whatever it is Ren has been grappling with for the last six episodes. You know, the stuff they were just arguing about.

Once again, RWBY succeeded in giving me something I wanted, but in a way that severely downplays that enjoyment. I wanted a renora kiss, but not without consent and as a way of ignoring their issues. I wanted more focus on Ren and Nora as a whole this volume, but it would be nice if their characters could exits outside of each other some. Like the criticisms against Blake and Yang, Ren and Nora seem to be a package deal. They don’t fight with anyone else. They don’t go to different activities (why can’t Ren continue training if he’s that focused on it? Let Nora vent her feelings to a friend while he’s gone). They don’t interact with Ruby when they’re out with her. Their arc, it seems, doesn’t exist outside of each other. Which I suppose is better than no development at all, but still.

From then on things devolve rather quickly. While Hill continues her speech---and we see the ever closing gap between her and Jacques---Ruby gets a quick look at Tyrian’s tail before Watts turns out the lights. From there Tyrian proceeds to murder so many people, including attacking Fiona and going after Hill. All the while Ruby and Penny struggle to attack, despite the fact that Penny clearly has night vision and hangs back too long, obviously for plot purposes. It’s when she finally gets him away from Hill that Watts turns the lights back on, making it look like Penny had attacked the crowd and Hill was defending herself from her. I’ll admit, making Penny suitably creepy during the battle helps sell it.

Man do I hate framing plot-lines though. Not in a ‘Rooster Teeth shouldn’t have done this’ sense, just that it hurts to watch people react so badly based on a misunderstanding. This setup works best when there’s no one to refute the assumption. Yet here we have Ruby who absolutely saw Tyrian there, Penny who absolutely saw him with her night vision, Marrow who just made a connection with Hill and took the time to insist, “This wasn’t us, I swear,” etc. We’ve even got really basic stuff like, does Penny have blood all over her blades? Yet based on Hill’s look, all the evidence against Penny being the attacker isn’t going to do much good. Which makes for a more frustrating experience than a sad, yet understandable one.

We end with Jacques thanking everyone for his victory, rigged by Watts. Watts uploads the video of the attack, which has presumably either been altered in some way or just shows Penny in that damning position with her weapons out. If the former, that would at least go a long way towards explaining the inevitable backlash against her. An angry mob in the heat of the moment is one thing, but if Watts is looking to convince the entirety of Atlas that Ironwood is using his robot---a robot the people seem to currently love---to take out his competition, a doctored video of Penny attacking innocent people is far more persuasive. For both them and us the audience, wondering why everyone is this gullible. So far we’ve gotten some truly excellent villainy this year. Let’s continue that with them thinking ahead. 

At the very least this should (should) provide us with some excellent development for Penny. She’s long struggled with her status as a robot and being the defender of Atlas seems to have helped her come into herself. Having others accept her differences as a boon will do that. Now that she’s labeled as nothing more than a dangerous weapons again? We should see some inner conflict. The writing didn’t let her or anyone else grapple with her death. For the love of everything, at least let Penny grapple with this. 

Finally, Ruby and the others are forced to spend the night defending the city from a ton of grimm. Seriously, take in how many grimm showed up because of an election. Now think about what will happen if Ironwood announces Salem’s existence... I don’t think the cast is admitting to themselves precisely how many lives they’d be sacrificing by pulling that stunt. Ironwood at least (as far as we know) truly thinks he has a shot at winning the war. Ruby has no excuse at this point, with the exception that telling people about Salem is just plain hard.

Insert standard ‘Ozpin was right and they’re being hypocrites’ meta here.

And that’s it, folks! Issues aside, an all around better episode than some of the others we’ve gotten this season. Based off of experience it’ll be a small miracle if RWBY manages to keep that up next week.

Until then 💜

Minor Things of Note

All the people who were arrested the day of the election... do they get to vote? I know Watts rigged things, but potentially keeping everyone that furious with Ironwood from deciding who will oppose him on the council won’t exactly look good... especially combined with the Penny situation. Not that I think RWBY would actually introduce that as a complication. Just a thought.

Another extremely nit-picky thing, but it’s hilarious to me how bare the girls’ room is. Obviously there’s little time or inclination to animate personal items, even the few they have, but it kind of looks ridiculous to have this sterile space with one mirror and one tube of mascara. Here are the exact things we need for this scene and nothing more! I do like that shot in the mirror though.

Fiona getting teary-eyed over Hill being on the council was beautiful. I barely know them, but I like these two.

I’m just gonna post this again...