#she may have called it a rain show but there was like. 2 drops of rain lol haha

[breakbleheavens]

TAYLOR SWIFT The Eras Tour — Sydney, Australia (Night 4) | February 26, 2024

[melancholy-of-nadia]

nuts. (m) | knj

title: nuts. (m) pairing: knj x reader(f) rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; neighbors au , age-gap au (reader is 25, namjoon is 30); grad student au summary: Your future is clear. Pass the LSAT. Go to SNU law school. Become a prosecutor, and be successful. At least, that’s what your mother wants. But when you fail the LSAT, you have to come to terms with the fact that your mother’s wishes might not line up with your own. Out sulking in the rain after an explosive argument, help comes in the form of your sex-crazed neighbor, Kim Namjoon - the very man who’s constant moaning and fucking from next door is the reason why you became so distracted from studying! And since it’s his fault things have resulted this way, it’s only fair that he take responsibility, right? note: heavily inspired by the first 4 chapter of the korean webtoon "where the heart is" - 가족이 되어주라 , with minor dialogue and event changes note 2: this is pretty unedited lmao.... so if there are mistakes i'm so sorry. warnings: language, reader is stressed, best friend! taehyung, dialogue heavy, namjoon is cold, very much rpwp joon, joon is half naked a lot, dilf joon, slight angst, a little too relatable to a mid life crisis, a little bit of drinking, kinda rough s*x, CONSENSUAL protected s*x, cunn*lingus, finger*ng, attempted blowj*b, b*ckshots, joon is too smooth, RIDING, n*pple play, french kissing, did i mention this is her FIRST TIME, yeah and first kiss, namjoon is vague about his living situation? drop date: May 28th, 2023, 1:00pm pst word count: 6.9k crossposted on ao3 here —

“Remember, you’re the one that asked me to show you.” Namjoon’s voice is a low, steady rumble, his breath hot against your ear as he pins you down on his bed, his strong hands gripping your wrists.

If you could, you’d give anything to return to that moment. And you really mean anything. On that extremely rainy day, when your neighbor approached you, trudging through the downpour.

That unforgettable day was the first time you had sex.

╴╴╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚

You pace around your bedroom, frustration bubbling up inside you. The muffled moaning, thumping and groaning coming from the other side of your wall are impossible to ignore. You’re so done! You try to distract yourself, playing some lofi beats softly in the background but no, the noise is relentless, making it hard to focus on anything else.

How are you going to manage to pass your exam to get into law school if all you can hear is the fucking from next door? You need to get into law school and if you don’t, your mom is going to kill you. 

With a huff, you throw yourself onto your bed, staring at the ceiling in exasperation. Grabbing your phone from the nightstand, you unlock it and open the KakaoTalk app. You scroll through your contacts until you find Kim Taehyung, your best friend. If there's anyone who can offer some comfort or at least a distraction, it's him.

You begin typing furiously, your thumbs flying over the keyboard as you pour out your endless complaints and rants.

But all of a sudden, there’s a quietness. Huh? What’s going on? Why did the sounds suddenly stop?

You get up and lean your head against the wall, hearing a murmuring from people on the other side. You try to make out the words. Turn… Around…?

Wait. Turn Around?! Your face flushes in embarrassment from hearing these words and thinking about the implications of them.

The ding of a new text from Taehyung yanks you out of the depths of your mind and you yell, dropping your phone on your bed. A few seconds later, your mom opens the door to your bedroom. “Y/N, I brought you some snacks...”

“Mom!” You yell this time, startled by her sudden appearance and taking a deep breathe. “You… scared me.”

“Why are you so jumpy? Don’t tell me you’re looking at something weird again.” She scowls at you.

You grab your phone, faking a phone call with Taehyung. “H-Hey, you don’t have to yell into the phone like that. You startled me Tae!” You can't have her getting suspicious or hearing the sounds from next door.

Her scowl deepens. “You were reading those gay japanese comics again, weren’t you?”

“No, of course not, I was talking to Taehyung..!” you whisper urgently, hoping to divert her attention.

That was one time! Months ago, might you add! You should’ve never left your phone face up while you went to pick up your package from the front door. She doesn’t seem convinced by your excuse and sighs in exasperation.

You get up, head toward the front door of your apartment and slip on your slides. “Mom, I’m gonna step out for a bit and talk to Tae on the phone.”

“Be back in 30 minutes then,” she responds, her tone softening slightly.

You close the door behind you, leaning against it with a sigh of relief. That was close. If your mom ever found out you were eavesdropping on what the guy next door was doing, you'd never hear the end of it. You look at your phone again and check Taehyung's text.

You sigh, walking over to lean against the railing on the veranda, overlooking the city from the 4th floor.

The summer sun is bright and the heat is strong as it hits your skin. It’s been a while since you’ve had such a nice day. You’ve mostly been stuck inside studying. But despite not many people out and about, it’s so noisy. It’s all these cicadas.. And if you’re being completely honest, the noises from next door are nowhere near as loud as these damn cicadas. Your neighbors’ sounds are so faint that you have to press your head against the wall and yet, you’re the one who can’t stop eavesdropping on what’s happening next door.

You look at your phone again as you hear another text notification. You appreciate Tae trying to lighten up the situation, but you don’t want him to make too much of a fuss over it.

You begin to type a response: Nah, it’s okay, don’t worry about it. I’ll try to ignore the moaning… Before your finger hits send, It's in this moment that you hear a creak from a door opening behind you. You instinctively turn to view the source of the sound.

And there he is.

It’s your neighbor, pulling up an unlit cigarette to his lips as he walks to stand against the veranda railing for a smoke break. He wears gray shorts, his short-sleeved black shirt unbuttoned, with a full display of his upper body, abs and all. Wait, his abs? Chest? Oh my god, he’s basically naked.

He looks exactly like one of those dilf or daddy dom characters you read about in manga. Strong, commanding, and ridiculously hot. These men really do exist…

“Huh?” you end up saying out loud, which makes him look at you in confusion.

Fuck fuck fuck. What’s wrong with you? Eyeing your neighbor like this!? In a panic from being caught checking him out, you suddenly lean too far against the railing and feel yourself slowly falling off. Huh?! 

You try to grab relentlessly at the air for some sort of hold as a last resort, but it’s useless. 

Is this really it!?

You brace yourself, heart racing, but before you can comprehend what’s happening, a strong arm grabs you, pulling you back to safety. You find yourself pressed against someone’s chest, a strong male hand still gripping your arm firmly.

Holy fuck that scared you half to death!! When you turn your head, you see that it is your neighbor who saved you. What? How did he—? Before you can conjure up more questions, your eyes slowly look down and you are against his check. Holy shit… you never realized how broad he is. “Hey. You can move now,” he says, his voice deep and unamused. You nod, your face flushing with embarrassment as you quickly step back, putting some distance between the two of you. “O-Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to… um, fall.” Goddamn it, get it together, Y/N. “Thanks… you pretty much saved my life.” As you fully take a good look at him, you realize you had no idea he was hiding this hot ass body under those baggy t-shirts you always see him wear. But holy shit, he’s ripped. He may be some sex fiend, but no wonder he’s been getting all that action. You don’t realize you are still staring at him, frozen in your spot. But before he can say something, you hear another voice approaching.

“Hyung, when are you coming back inside?” A shorter male with a smaller build and blonde hair appears, his casual demeanor catching you off guard. Huh? A guy? “I’m just going to take a shower,” the guy continues, and this is when you notice he’s also shirtless. What?! “Sure, go ahead. I’ll head back inside after this smoke. Go on in,” your neighbor says nonchalantly, his gaze dropping briefly before returning to you.

No way… does he sleep with men too? Before you can unravel the tangled web of questions in your mind, your phone starts ringing. You check to see the caller ID is Taehyung.

"Hel–” “Hey! Y/N! Why aren’t you texting back?!” Taehyung interrupts, his voice loud and concerned. “Don’t tell me you went over to your neighbor’s place by yourself!” Fuck, not right now! “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about… Sh-Shut up…” You whisper aggressively, pleading to God that he gets the idea that you cannot be talking about this right now! “You’re the one that told me he’s a sleazy fuck boy that has sex with a different person every day!” Taehyung, oblivious to your situation, yells out. Did you mention you were on speaker? … oh.

Oh, fuck.

Without missing a beat and looking back, you hurriedly retreat inside your apartment. Despite not seeing his reaction, you could very well feel his eyes on you. Fuck…this is so embarrassing. Initially, it was just the sounds, and now this? This summer just got a whole lot more complicated. ╴╴╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚

After that day, you felt like you were in some kind of spy movie with the way you kept trying to avoid ever seeing the guy next door again. Every time you had to go outside, it was a mission of stealth and timing. Is he out there? Or is he not? You’ve tried to calculate and observe the times you’d hear him leave.

However, four days after the incident, as you walk out the door of your apartment, you find yourself face-to-face with him.

Shit.

There’s a long, awkward silence as you stare at each other before you finally break it.

“Uh, hello.”

No response. He slides a cigarette from the box and places it in his mouth, lighting it up and ignoring you as he looks out at the city, leaning against the railing. He’s on another smoke break, you say to yourself.

The way he can’t even casually say “hello” back to you just once? Be serious!

You groan, turn around, and decide to head to your old college library to get some more studying done before the LSAT in four days.

As you walk away, you catch a glimpse of him giving you a side glance before puffing out a cloud of smoke and sighing. ––––––––––––––––––––

On the day you got your LSAT results, the rain was so heavy that it felt like the raindrops could pierce through the walls of your rickety old apartment building.

The day when everything happened in a flash.

Coming home. Having to tell your mom you failed the LSAT. Having to tell her that you won’t be able to get into law school just yet. “Y/N, you graduated with honors from Seoul National University. There’s no need to be so disappointed just because you didn’t pass your law school exam.” She pleads, squeezing your hands. “You know I’m not asking for too much from you. All I want is for you to graduate from your university’s law school and become a prosecutor. That’s all I hope for, really.” This is pissing you off. She thinks that this is supposed to comfort you when it’s only adding to the pressure. “That’s all you hope for…?” you spat, words laced with bitterness, “You’re the one putting these burdens on me because you couldn’t be the one to do this.” “What…?”

Does she not get it? This was never your dream to begin with. All these years of studying, being the top student, going to the best university in the country, striving to get to law school… it wasn’t what you wanted to do at all. This was something your mom wanted for herself, but she couldn’t do because she got with your dad, gave it up and had you.

“You want me to live the life you would’ve had… for the rest of my life? I never asked for that!” You yell out, tears falling, frustration taking over.

You haphazardly put on your slide and leave out the front door with a slam, not giving your mother a moment to respond. However, she doesn’t chase after you. She stands there, stunned, only looking at the food and broken pieces of glass and plates that scatter your bedroom floor from the fight.

As if anything could make this worse, when you stand outside, you see your terrible and hot neighbor on a smoke break on the veranda. He turns when he hears your door automatically open and lock, then looks at you.

Dammit… He’s the last person you wanted to see you like this. You wipe your tears with your forearm, hoping that it’s not obvious that you’ve reached one of the lowest points in your whole life at the ripe age of 25. This is so fucking embarrassing.

“Hey, your face—” He begins, but you immediately scurry away down the stairs, out of the apartment complex. ╴╴��╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚ You run. And run. Running as far as your legs and your cheap worn-out slides could take you. As exhaustion overcomes you, you stop and glance around. Oh, you’re at a park down the street? You take a deep breath for the first time realizing you don’t know what you’re even trying to achieve. Ha…this is so stupid. You sigh, taking cover under a slide in the playground, shivering as you hug your knees. After the adrenaline rush goes away, your body is now noticing that you’re cold. It’s no wonder since you’re drenched in the rain. You realize your eyes are probably puffy too from the outburst earlier. Things are starting to come back to you.

As you sit there continuing to watch the rain pitter patter against the playground and the sand, you hear footsteps approaching you. When you look up, you see that it’s him. Your sex fiend hot ass neighbor, holding an umbrella.

Your tear ducts start flowing tears once again. “Y-You startled me…” You sniffle, rubbing your eyes with the palm of your hand. “What’re you just standing there for? If you came here to mock me, then go ahead and laugh all you want.” He looks down, seeing your clothes completely soaked. He notices that your white t-shirt has become transparent, letting him see your nipples perking out. Goddamit, he thinks, looking away. “Here.” He places the umbrella next to you, now covering you from the downpour and walks away. “Ah..” Your hand reaches out to his figure as he slowly moves further from you. Something about him calls out to you. You don’t know what, and you can’t explain it. Maybe you should follow him back home for now. 

And you do.

You make it back to the apartment and up the stairs to the floor where the both of you live. As he unlocks his door and enters, you call out to him before the door can close. “Hey, wait…” Maybe you should go in and just give back his umbrella. Nah, you shouldn’t go into a stranger’s house. “Close the door if you’re not going to come in.” He calls to you from the inside.

And so, the door clunks shut, and now you’re inside. This is incredibly awkward. “To be honest, I didn’t think you were coming in,” he says, his voice low and slightly hoarse as he wipes his wet hair with a small towel. Droplets of rainwater cling to his skin, accentuating the contours of his jawline and the muscles in his arms. “Guess you changed your mind.”

“Well... I still had your umbrella, and... I can’t exactly go home right now,” you say carefully, fidgeting with your hands before crossing your arms under your breasts. His eyes flicker down for a moment, lingering on your figure before meeting yours again. “Could you lend me a towel, please?” you ask, shivering involuntarily as a chill runs down your spine.

He looks away, his expression unreadable, before sighing and handing you the towel he was just using. The fabric is warm from his body heat, and a faint scent of his cologne lingers on it. “Just use this to wipe yourself off.” Uh, why would he give me the one he was just using? And what’s with the sigh? “I don’t care if the floor gets wet, so you can go sit in the living room,” he suggests before walking into the bathroom, his figure disappearing behind the door. The sound of running water fills the air, mingling with the steady rhythm of the rain outside.

“Alrighty then…”

For the first time since entering his home, you take a moment to observe your surroundings. It’s a pretty ordinary looking small apartment...

No, it’s not. His kitchen table is riddled with bottles of soju and books lying around, their pages curled and yellowed with age. There’s laundry that has gotten stiff on the drying rack from who knows how long it has been there, giving the room a slightly musty smell.

You shouldn’t be so judgmental. It’s not like you live here anyway.

A better observation you note are the several paintings hanging up on the wall. Some look like contemporary Korean art pieces that you recognize from reading art books you enjoy during your free time. One is Sung Yeon-Woong’s “Korean People - I Love You,” 2022. The monochrome colors and bold strokes of the people embracing each other in the nude captivate your attention, momentarily drawing you in.

You’ve always liked art and wanted to pursue it, but those dreams were locked away when…

The illusion of being at an art museum fades, and you’re suddenly reminded of where you are when you feel your wet underwear sticking to you. It feels gross and icky, the fabric clinging uncomfortably to your skin.

You plop onto his living room floor, which you realize is also a makeshift gym area when you spot dumbbells of various weights beside you. The metal gleams dully under the soft glow of the overhead lights, a testament to their frequent use. Your hand moves against something and you notice a card on the floor. When you grab it, you realize what it is. His student ID card from Seoul National University?! He went to the College of Engineering? Or does he still go?

Woah? You’re from different departments, but it’s the same school. What the fuck… You had absolutely no idea. This is also the first moment you find out what his name is: Kim Namjoon.Bachelor’s DegreeCollege of EngineeringChemical Engineering Chemical engineering? He doesn’t look like one. Also why would he just leave his student ID lying around like this?

“Go and take a shower. I can’t have you catching a cold in my house,” Namjoon requests, coming out of the bathroom, his hair still damp from the shower. You slide his ID card back on the floor pretending you didn’t see anything. “Here, change into these clothes after.” “Oh, okay–” Your words are cut short when he throws a gray t-shirt and shorts on top of your head.

You can’t tell if he’s being nice or a complete jerk. When you walk into the bathroom and close the door, you finally notice in the mirror that you’re not wearing a bra.

“AHHHHHHH!” You scream internally over your stupidity and lack of rationality. How could you be this careless? How could you forget that you weren’t wearing a bra! Hold up, did Namjoon notice and not say a thing?! Oh god… This guy isn’t nice or a jerk. He’s a straight up sex machine. A fucking sex fiend pervert.

You can’t believe you just willingly stepped into a minefield. But wait! You can get out of here without any trouble so long as you keep your head straight.

Or not… you don’t have anywhere else to go. You don’t want to burden Tae with your shit. Sigh. Just be cautious Y/N and avoid eye contact as much as possible. You’ll get through this! After your shower and change of clothes, you walk out of the bathroom and see him on his futon bed sipping his beer and watching a variety show on his laptop. You plop down next to him, trying to pretend all is normal, but it’s not. Shit, this is still awkward. How can you become less aware of the situation you’re in? You notice an unopened beer can on his table and crawl over to grab it. Oh! This can work. He’s not going to mind, right? When you do that, Namjoon notices your exposed crotch in the loose shorts he gave you and begins choking on his beer. He can’t believe you didn’t put on your wet underwear again and are just walking around bare like that. Huh? What’s up with him... you think, confused, but not surprised. You crack it open and take a few sips.

You know what, everything will be fine if you keep a clear head. Clear thoughts. Clear mind.

Yeah, you can do that.

╴╴╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚

She hasn't even finished her beer and already looks out of it, Namjoon thinks to himself, sighing. He reaches over and takes the beer can from your hand. “Hey, you’ve had enough to drink,” he says firmly. “I’ll get you some blankets, so just lie—”

“Honestly... It’s partially your fault...” you interrupt, your voice slurring slightly as you crawl over to him, suddenly pushing him onto the bed. Your movements are unsteady, but you manage to straddle him, arms planted on either side of his head. “...that I flunked my exam.” Namjoon is caught off guard by your sudden action, his eyes wide with surprise. He stares up at you, at a loss for words. “What the hell are you talking about? What did I do?” Namjoon asks, his confusion evident. “What are you on about? Why are you suddenly acting crazy.” “Get off m—”

“Is it fun... to live the way you do?” you interrupt, your tone dripping with a mix of sass and bitterness.

“What?” “If it’s that exciting... then can you show me how to live like you?” Your hands move to his chest, feeling the firmness of his muscles beneath his shirt.

“What exactly are you saying?” Namjoon grabs your right arm, but you swat it away.

“Well, you seem so carefree, and all you ever do is sleep with different people every day.” You scoff, your frustration bubbling over. Namjoon chuckles, a humorless sound, as he grabs your wrists and effortlessly flips you over, pinning you beneath him. Now, you’re the one looking up at him from the bed, stunned and embarrassed, and suddenly sobered up.

“I don’t know what’s going through that head of yours, but what makes you think you can say that when you don’t know anything about me?” His words are laced with annoyance. “And just to be clear, I have no reason to sit here and listen to you judge me, no matter what I do. If you’re so unhappy with your life, then do whatever you want. No one’s forcing you to live that way.”

You tremble slightly, anger and humiliation mixing as you look away. “You don’t know anything!” 

You smack his chest with your fists, but he doesn’t flinch. “Figures you wouldn’t understand since you do whatever the hell you want all the time!”

Namjoon sighs, clearly reaching the end of his patience. “Does this seem like the home of someone who’s content and living life on their own terms, to you?” He gestures around the room, his hands clenching the sheets beneath you. You have nothing else to combat his question with, so you pout and look away. Namjoon’s not going to let you get what you want though, and grabs your jaw to turn you to face him again. “Fine. If you really want to know, then I’ll show you.”

Keeping you pinned, Namjoon leans in, his lips inches from yours. 

Your heart races, and you freeze in place. You’ve never kissed anyone before in your life. But before you can feel his mouth against yours, he notices you flinch and decides to pull back, creating distance between you once again.

“You know what? You should just leave.” He chuckles, feeling the ridiculousness of the situation he’s found himself in. “Haha.. What was I thinking? There’s no way I’m doing anything like that with someone like you.”

Before he has the chance to get off from straddling you, your hands grab at his shirt and push him forward.

“W-Why am I the one who has to live like this?” You start to hiccup, tears streaming down your face once again. Why are you being like this? How many times have you cried today?

“What’re you talking about? Let go.”

This only makes you pull him even closer. “And you!! Why did you stop?! Why? Man, woman, old, young! I know you’ll sleep with anyone... so why not me?”

“The hell are you talking about?! I told you to let go!” He grabs at your wrists, trying to remove their grasp on his shirt gently. “You just… you just feel sorry for me… I know I may not be good enough. I might be a lousy daughter, not as conventionally attractive as other girls, and I’m painfully aware of my shortcomings just as a member of society… but still!”

“You’re driving me nuts here…”

“Fuck… it’s not like I want to live this way.” You cover your eyes with your forearm, sobbing.

“You’re fine as you are,” Namjoon says softly, the gentlest thing he’s said all day.

“What did you say?”

“I mean you’re good enough. In fact, you’re plenty good enough, okay? So stop crying and let go of my shirt, please.” He says, gently grabbing hold of your chin.

“Then... do you want to have sex with me as well?” Your face reddens, asking boldly.

Namjoon internally fights with himself, thinking about what he’s even supposed to do with you.

“Yeah, I do. Just not today,” he answers.

You turn your head to the side. “Liar. You don’t want to have sex with me.”

“I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret,” he tells you honestly, looking into your eyes.

You glare at him, and for the hundredth time today, he sighs.

“Okay, fine, fine. Let’s do it,” he declares.

“Wait..Really...?”

He looks at you, seeing your innocent expression. “You better not come crying to me afterward.”

Namjoon takes his shirt off, revealing his whole upper body in full view. His skin glistens slightly in the dim light, each muscle defined and firm.

“I’m saying this because it seems like you’re completely misunderstanding the situation, but I’ve already told you ‘no’ like a hundred times.”

You look at him, dazed, mesmerized by his pecs and defined abdominal muscles. As he nears closer to you, you think he’s actually going to kiss you this time, until he moves down, licking your collarbones. His hand squeezes your breasts

And I held back at least ten times, he thinks inwardly.

His right hand lifts the t-shirt, your breast coming into full view, jiggling from the action.

You’re the one that kept provoking me, so this is partly on you.

“Mmph..ah..” You moan out, and quickly cover your mouth.

“What’re you doing?” “Well, they can hear me moan next door…” You say, muffled. Namjoon looks at you as if you’re insane, “Your voice won’t carry through these walls that easily unless you let out a scream.” “Oh..” “Be honest. You were eavesdropping by pressing your ear to the wall, weren’t you?” He begins questioning.

Fuck.

He continues, “Unless there’s another pervert like you living in this building, then you don’t have to worry. No one will hear a thing.”

Oh. This changes everything, actually.

Namjoon suddenly turns you over, removing your shorts and pulling your ass up. “Y-You didn’t have to do that so suddenly! Or you could’ve at least turned the lights off..”

Namjoon stares blankly at your naked figure, then slowly rustles his hands in his shorts to put on an unopened condom he had lying.

“W-What are you doing?”

Is this what you think it is? I’ve only seen them in comics…

What… holy shit..

“W-Wait!” You move away towards the wall. 

“What now?” Namjoon groans, but then you leaned back up and start observing the large cock that he just pulled out from his shorts. 

Are they normally this big? But then again, you remember reading and watching hentai where the bottom characters struggle to take in a large penis… “Do you want to suck me off?” He looks down at you, overshadowing you as you appear small and curious.

Do I? Should I?

Your tongue peeps out and gives it one lick. Oh. Oh no. Oh god, that tasted gross. You start to cough and gag.

“Don’t you think it’s a little rude to gag like that when you’re giving someone a blowjob?”

“Then how do you expect me to react? The rubber tastes super weird! Have you tried liking one of these? Of course you haven’t!”

“It’s a condom, it’s supposed to taste like that. What, did you think it was going to taste like vanilla?”

“So you DO know what it tastes like…”

“Why would I? You know what? Forget it, what would I expect from you?” He leans forward and pushes you down on the bed again. He lifts your legs up in the air and settles in between them. 

“W-What’re you doing?!”

“What do you think? You keep getting distracted. I’m helping you concentrate”  He spreads you open on his tongue and licking every sensitive dip and corner he can reach. His tongue is warm and firm no matter where he licks, and only softens up when he goes to lick a flat stripe up your slit, essentially sucking up all of the wet you’re offering him and savoring it through whimpered groans at the way your legs attempt to squeeze around his head.

“Ah.. no! Wait! This is way too embarrassing..”

He pays no attention and continues at his task.

He knew you’d taste good but this is on a whole other level. He can’t help it when he grips your thighs and spreads your legs out further, and he certainly can’t help himself when he prods his tongue into you, trying to taste more of what you have to offer. 

“Ah!” You can feel his tongue dipping in, and the way he grips your thighs renders you nearly useless if you were to try and wiggle away, not that you’d ever want to but it almost tickles with how good it feels. Your legs begin to shake in his grasp, and he only spreads them further at that, tilting his head at an angle to suck and lick into you even deeper.

“I kinda figured you weren’t all that into this because you kept going on about stuff like how the condom tastes and feeling embarrassed. But you’re getting so wet I guess you are a little turned on…”

“That’s enough,” You sigh out, reaching down frantically to hold his head in place so that you can grind your hips forward against his stiffened tongue. 

“Yeah. Since, both you and me… are getting impatient…” Namjoon’s fingers are instantly at your entrance, sliding in so easily that it nearly makes you forget that you even told him to do it. His fingers are slender, and each joint on the digits are felt against your aching and gripping walls. The sounds of squelching only turn you on even more. “We might as well cut to the chase.”

He takes out his fingers, now moving them to hold his length. “This, might hurt a little.”

You look at him puzzled before you gasp, feeling a sudden pressure from beneath you. “Huh!? W-Wait, it won’t go in! I said it won’t go in!” Your handle trembles, grabbing onto the bedsheets harshly.

“It already is.”

No way.

“Ah… wait, really? It’s all the way in…?”

It has to be all the way in. It’s feeling really tight right now and you can’t imagine how the whole thing can’t be inside. You glance down at your cunt, seeing the point where you and him connect. Oh.

“No. Not all the way in.” He scratches his head. “You can tell me anything if you’re feeling too tired or just wanna call it quits. And I’ll stop.”

Arrogant little…

“I have no idea what you’re talking about! I’m totally fine! I can’t even feel you inside me…”

There, the two of you look at each other for a brief moment before you feel him suddenly start to thrust forward again, sliding his cock further into your drenched core. You let out a whimper.

Then, giving you no time to adjust to his whole size, he takes his cock out and quickly pulls you up and spreads you into doggy style, pinning your hands behind him. Without warning, he roughly thrusts into you, feeling yourself being split apart by his huge, thick cock. 

“Ah! Ungh…F-Fuck!” You moan, tears beginning to prick from overstimulation. His hips thrust brutally against your own at a set rhythmic pace, pulling almost all the way out before ruthlessly drilling back into you, it would probably be more painful if it wasn’t for your dripping arousal creating your very own lube and his fat cock hitting the right spot with every thrust.

“I thought. You said. You were. Fine?” He thrusts repeatedly, with each word being punctuated by a thrust.

He comes to a slow stop and you don’t respond, your lips agape as you remain stuck in a euphoric daze from how good this pleasure feels. You’ve never done this before. You’ve only read it in literature, watch it from hentai… but holy shit, does the real thing not compare.

“You’re making so much noise, I bet the whole neighborhood knows we’re going at it.” Namjoon whispers in your ear with a teasing tone.

Fuck!? You immediately cover your mouth and turn to face him, which makes Namjoon chuckle at your cute behavior, grabbing your hand. “No one’s actually gonna hear us with the rain pounding like this”, he thinks internally.

Namjoon takes this opportunity to switch positions and place you on top of him. You sit there with your legs on either side. Glancing down, you notice that his cock is still hard and it rubs against your clit, making you more and more impatient for him to keep on fucking you. 

He moves you forward a bit and raises your hips so he can line your entrance with his tip. For Namjoon, he needed to see you come undone. He deserved it after all the nonsense you kept scolding him about. And there’s nothing more satisfying than the moan you let out when the tip is in. His cock stretches you out once again, filling you in all the right areas, making you pant and whine from the girth. He grunts as you sink further down his cock. His hands grip your ass, pushing his cock in deeper and deeper before pulling back up, all in a rhythmic motion. The sheer tightness of his grip on your ass was sure to leave bruises tomorrow, but he was the last person to care.

You gasp when he lifts you up, almost pulling out with only his tip still inside, before bringing you down and slamming back into your cunt. A loud moan exits your lips and you throw your head back from the static of pleasure that shoots through your body. You grip his biceps in an attempt to ground yourself, your manicured nails dug into his skin and leave long scratches.

“Ah!!” You scream as the squelching and thumps get louder, making your pussy tighten around him even more. “Ungh, ah! W-Wait! I feel strange–!”

What is this feeling?! Is it what you think it is... It’s only with one more thrust hitting your cervix that leads you to your answer.

“F-Fuck…daddy!” As if on cue, the knot that had been building in your stomach pops, and your orgasm came crashing down on you. Your cunt clenches around his cock and your mouth flies open in a silent scream, thick and clear cum gushing on his cock.

Namjoon is surprsied by you using the word ‘daddy’, but continues at his ministrations, licking against your chest now and sucking one of your nipples into his mouth as you shake amid your orgasm. You continue your strong hold on his shoulders.

“Agh… I want you to stop squeezing so tightly.” He slowly holds you up and removes his dick from inside you. He removes his condom and discards it in the nearby bin.

“Huh? What did you say…? You want me to what?” You’re completely out of it, your mind fogged by the sex, and perhaps some remnants of alcohol. “Kiss you?”

“Huh? No, that’s not what I—” Namjoon starts to protest, but before he can finish, you gently grab his chin and press your lips against his.

The kiss catches him off guard. Your lips are soft and hesitant, trembling slightly. Namjoon’s initial shock gives way to a moment of stillness, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts. For a brief second, he almost kisses you back, but then he pulls away, his hands firmly but gently pushing you back.

“Holy shit, that was my first kiss…” you murmur, panic setting in. “I can’t believe it’s with some older guy like you!”

Namjoon sighs, exhaling sharply. “You’re not even trying to hide it, huh?” He gently grabs your cheeks, squishing them with his hand. “I figured as much, so I was trying to be considerate. And then you went and kissed me first.”

“If that’s what you were thinking, then you should’ve just told—”

“Too late for that,” he interrupts, taking his turn to kiss you. This time, he doesn’t hold back, shoving his tongue inside your mouth. The kiss is intense and demanding, catching you completely off guard.

Your mind blanks out, every thought drowned by the sensation of his lips and tongue moving against yours. His hands move to the back of your head, tangling in your hair, pulling you closer. You can’t help but moan softly into the kiss, the sound swallowed by his mouth.

Namjoon’s kiss is forceful, almost punishing, as if he’s trying to prove a point. You can feel the frustration and desire in every movement, in the way his hands grip your hair, in the way his tongue explores your mouth with a fervent urgency. You try to keep up, but your inexperience makes it hard, and you end up just following his lead, letting him control the kiss.

When he finally pulls back, both of you are breathing heavily. His eyes are dark, filled with a mix of emotions you can’t quite decipher. “There,” he says, his voice rough. “Now you know. Your first kiss isn’t something to take lightly. Understand?”

You nod, still trying to catch your breath, your heart pounding in your chest. The room feels like it’s spinning, and you’re starting to feel more sleepy as the seconds pass.

Namjoon sighs again, softer this time, and releases your cheeks, his fingers trailing down to your neck. “Just… think things through before you act next time, alright?”

You nod again, feeling a strange mix of embarrassment and exhilaration. This wasn’t how you imagined your first kiss, but something about it feels right, even if you can’t fully understand why.

He leans back, giving you some space, and you both sit in silence for a moment, the weight of what just happened hanging in the air.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice gentler now, his eyes searching yours for any sign of distress.

“Yeah,” you whisper, still trying to process everything. “I think so.”

“Good,” he says, leaning back against the headboard. “We can talk more in the morning. For now, just get some rest.”

You nod, feeling a strange sense of relief wash over you. Despite everything, you feel safe with him, and that’s enough for now. As you lie down beside him, the exhaustion of the day finally catches up with you, and you drift off to sleep, the taste of his kiss still lingering on your lips.

╴╴╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚ “I… uh, I’ll wash these clothes and return them to you later,” you say to Namjoon as he walks you to his door. The hallway outside his apartment is dimly lit, casting long shadows that dance across the walls.

“...Don’t. You can keep them or, better yet, throw them away.” His voice is calm, yet firm, as if he’s making a point.

“Um, okay. If you say so. Then I guess I’ll do whatever I want with them. Thanks for letting me stay over. And I’m sorry for saying and assuming things about you.” You glance up at him, feeling the weight of your earlier accusations hang between you.

“The assumptions you made about me being a sex fiend when it was just me inviting my friends over for a gym workout?” He arches an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“What?!” Your eyes widen in shock. Holy shit… were those groans actually grunts from them heavy-lifting those dumbbells and workout gear in the living room? It can’t be. It had to have been something else, right? “Are you being serious?!”

Namjoon chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that makes your cheeks burn. “I’ll see you around, girl next door.” You groan at him shooing you away.

“It’s Y/N...”

“Alright, Y/N,” he says, his eyes meeting yours with a knowing glint.

You realize he still hasn’t told you his name, but you already know it. You nod awkwardly and step back, your mind still reeling from his revelation. As you turn to leave, you hear the door click shut behind you. The rain has stopped, and the cool morning air feels refreshing against your flushed skin. You stand there for a moment, processing everything that’s happened. How the fuck can you go back to your regular life after that? Even Namjoon must think it’s insane that he just got tangled up with his younger neighbor.

You’ve both completely gone nuts.

-

-

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a/n: ahhhhh the fic made it out of my brain! wow. i had read this webtoon last week right before rpwp came out and i thought how the male character was lowkey namjoon coded. and then when i heard nuts... oh you know i just had to cook this up! though i would like to add that the webtoon i based this off of goes in a completely different direction with different several plot elements added, and it's still ongoing, so this was just inspo from the first 4 chapters. thank you all for the support and for reading!

➸ let me know what you think OR join the taglist for future works! ➸ check out one of my current ongoing fic series "love u lately"

[doublelariatgirl]

The first time we met/Ryoba Aishi meets her female darling

I don’t support pedodev

You could try knocking on Ryoba Aishi's head, but you'd get no response. No one's home, and no one ever has been. Simply put, she hasn't felt emotions unless you count emptiness.

Ryoba knows that's not normal, but what could she do about it? All around her, her classmates express themselves. Anger, sadness, happiness, it's apparent on their faces and in their voices. Ryoba could do nothing, but mimic. Hours spent looking in the mirror at her visage, morphing the corners of her lips upward into a pleasant smile. All while wondering why she was like this.

It's uncomfortable and foreign, but if Ryoba was unlike the others, least she could do was pretend. She became the potter with a lump of smooth clay to disturb and press ridges into. So many different people she could become, from the valedictorian to the delinquent. Who would Ryoba Aishi become?

Pleasant, I want to be pleasant.

That word would be exactly what her classmates and friends would describe her as. In the halls, she would greet everyone so candidly, with her warm smile.

Underneath it all, nobody would suspect that the amicable air about her was all a fabrication, several years in the making. Ryoba didn't want it to be a facade, and there was only one thing she could think of that would make it all real.

It had to do with the dream she's been having for as long as she remembers. Ryoba falls asleep every night and wakes up, staring up at a cherry tree on top of a hill. Faintly, she could see the outline of someone admiring the tree on the hill. Ryoba's heart skips a beat, something unfamiliar swelling with impossible heat in her chest.

She wanted to run faster than she's ever ran before, to the person.

Ryoba never saw anything more than their silhouette, but deep inside, the only thing she was sure of was that that person would change her life.

They would fall in love and Ryoba would come alive.

Ryoba had pictured the day in her head, but it was all muddled. She would spend hours watching romance movies, anticipating the moment her world would change. The perfect mix of everything that was supposed to be romantic, a bright, sunny day and a sweet floral scent in the air.

It was nothing like that.

Ryoba made sure to shake loose water drops clinging to her black umbrella before putting it gently into the umbrella rack. She made her way over to her locker to switch to her inside shoes. All around Ryoba, the students complained about the weather. The athletes, sour at the prospect of practice switching to the gym, grumbled the loudest. Some hopefuls tried to cheer everyone up by suggesting that the rain will clear before the end of the day.

Ryoba didn’t care, she never had an actual opinion on weather or anything.

Maintaining her smile, Ryoba set about on her daily “chores”. Some may call it socializing or keeping up with your friends, but it was purely for show and for reputation sake. Ryoba didn’t care as she wandered the halls and greeted the people.

Afterwards, it would be time to go to class. Ryoba normally would get there right on time with the rest of the students, but today she was early.

Ryoba could see the back of a girl outside of 2-1 classroom, which happened to be hers. The girl wore white tights, paired with a red ribbon on her polished Mary Jane’s.. There was a small matching bow clipped on her hair

The girl turned around, and Ryoba couldn’t describe the sensation that hit her so hard, it felt like she died and took her very first breath at the same time. Like a snake shedding their skin, or a caterpillar puncturing their cocoon, or a bear waking up from its hibernation; Ryoba could think of a million comparisons that she never understood before. She felt like she changed the entirety of who she was.

Is this what girls describe as butterflies? A fluttering, kicking feeling in her stomach that raised up into her chest (Ba-dum! Ba-dum!). Was she going into cardiac arrest? Ryoba never thought it was possible for her heart to beat so fast. It threatened to escape its cage, her chest.

The feeling was terrifying and so addicting, a genuine giggle wanting to work its way out of her throat.

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you!” The girl bowed respectfully to Ryoba, whose legs began to shake.

The girl raised her hand towards her, “I’m sorry, my Japanese isn’t very good yet… I just got to Japan a few days ago.”

Ryoba couldn’t talk, seems like the expression “cat got your tongue” was an accurate statement. It felt like her vocal cords were turned off, and even her mind couldn’t think of what to say if she could talk. Ryoba just stared at her outstretched hand and couldn’t stop a smile so wide her face hurt from plastering itself on her face.

She wanted to touch her, to hold her hand and feel that electric shock that her mom had told her about. It would be like resuscitation, pulling her from nothingness to everything that she has ever wanted.

Ryoba immediately grabbed her hand, “Ryoba Aishi, it’s lovely to finally meet you…”

[anyaeras]

I Didn't Deserve you || N.Romanoff

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Pairing: girlfriend!Natasha x gender neutral Reader

Warnings: Angst, mention of death, cute start, kinda sad ending, emotional abuse

Summary: y/n just wanted to enjoy theirs and Natasha anniversary, but everything went south.

Masterlist

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Being the partner of an avenger isn't always easy going. Often times special dates, and events are pushed off but y/n always understood how important Natasha's job was; and Natasha was great full to have them. At first their relationship was one you would see in the movies, soft and sentimental, but as time went by y/n saw less and less of their girlfriend, Nat would stay at work late, come home to tired to spend time with them. Y/n's love never died down for the red headed widow though.

Today was their 2 year anniversary. Y/n was home dancing around their apartment kitchen as she made a pasta meal for the each of them. As soft music rang from the smart speaker the clock showed 7:45pm. Natasha was out training but swore she would be back in time to celebrate this milestone with her lover.

As y/n set the table finishing it off with fresh flowers in the vase on their little circle dinning table, one which was perfect for the two of them. From that point y/n waited, well and waited...

The clock would tick, and the food was long cold. The time now read half past eleven and y/n was growing tired of waiting for Natasha. They were full of emotions, frustrated, betrayed but most of all disappointed that she had put so much effort to do something special for their girlfriend only too be stood up.

Doing their best to stay awake in hopes of their red headed girlfriend to come home any moment was becoming rather hard. Y/n grew overly tired falling asleep while waiting for on the small sofa in the living room.

12:45am, keys were heard as Natasha softly walked into her shared apartment. Staying silent to not disturb her girlfriend. Stepping inside the trained spy immediately noticed the plates of food on the table with a candle that had long burnt down. Looking around now moving towards the living room Natasha's heart broke. Her partner way asleep on the sofa, still dressed nicely, clearly they had cleaned up for Nat and she was...extremely late.

Natasha bent down in from of a sleeping y/n, slowly rubbing her fingers in y/n hair to wake them. As y/n slowly started to stir the black widow could only fear what her partners reaction may be.

"Natasha?" Y/n's sleepy voice called out as they regained consciousness. Sitting up y/n's face dropped to a frown as they stared back at their girlfriend.

"Y/n, my bad I was just get-" Natasha started yet was cut off by Y/n's huff

"Don't. You do this every time Nat! I just asked for one day! One day for us! Did you not care?" Y/n rattled off as they stood up clearly each phase they spoke they grew more distressed with Natasha.

Natasha was quick to reach out for y/n in hopes to calm them down yet was of course dodged.

"I'm not your toy, I'm not here for when you're bored, I'm not your second choice Natasha!" Y/n huffed as she had grabbed her keys and thrown a hoodie over her outfit.

Y/n stormed out of the apartment heading straight for the stairs before wandering out into the dark night.

Wandering for what felt like hours, it had started to rain as y/n felt the water seep into their clothing yet they were too damn stubborn to even face Natasha right now. Every night was becoming the same blur, y/n waiting up for Natasha, loads of ignored messages and maybe Nat would come home. The pain of waiting was taking a toll and for once y/n wanted her to feel it back.

Y/n seemed to get lost in thought as the walked, leaving their phone behind seemed to be working in their favor at this point. Cars went by, speeding on the main roads right beside her, sounds of crickets could be heard even in the city. Heading to the cross walk as y/n finally chose to start heading back home. As the red hand turned to the Walkman, y/n on autopilot started to cross, about half way through everything went dark.

Ring Natasha phone lit up at half past 2, expecting it to be y/n Natasha quickly looked at it, yet was surprised to see a random number. Yet she answered nonetheless

"Is this Natasha Romanoff, you're on y/n y/l/n's emergency contacts, they were in an accident, unconscious" a voice spoke to Natasha yet the words seemed to just flood her with panic.

"I'll be right there." Was all Natasha said before rushing out the door

Fast. It happened so fast, adrenaline never felt like this, adrenaline was fun, it was an exciting feeling to remember this time there was no memories. Just black space, and soft sound. Beeps...beep.

"Y/n? Are you awake" her sharp yet soft Russian accent made its way to y/n's ears, yet your eyes far to heavy to open. But a soft squeeze to the hand, which connected with their own showed that they could hear Natasha words.

"детка (Detka) you have to wake up, please. I'm really sorry I didn't stop you, I should've protected you I'm so sorry y/n" Natasha's words followed by her soft cries hurt y/n just as much as the crash had. Not being able to respond was even harder. Listing to Natasha try and communicate and fix something was new, and y/n just had to lay there. Natasha's soft wishes didn't stop but they began to sound far away, the once light that shined through now faded to black once again, as if it was the start of a peaceful sleep.

The beeping became more like a long drawn out ding as if it became a straight line. Making Natasha panic inside.

Nurses rushed into the hospital room shoving Natasha aside, her once locked hand with y/n's was pulled apart as nurses did their best to keep y/n responding.

Nurses frantic actions slowly came to a complete stop, the beep would now fall into background noise.

"I didn't deserve you" was the final thing Natasha got out, her hand holding now not her partners hand, but the ring box's she had brought home that night.

[fiveraccoonsinatrenchcoat]

Quiet My Fears (With The Touch Of Your Hand) Ch. 2

Steve Harrington x f!reader

Description: You have this amazing talent of knocking the wind right out of Steve's chest with words alone.

Warnings: pregnant!reader, mentions of being sick (among other scarier pregnancy symptoms), language

Word Count: 3614

Previous Chapter! - Next Chapter!

My Masterlist! - Series Masterlist!

Rain slammed against the window panes of the Harrington house like bullets. The cold seeped through the walls and ate straight through Steve’s pajamas, and the cup of coffee in his hands was doing little to remedy it. There was zero hint of sun in the sky, it seemed like there would be none all day, and Steve was really regretting coming out from under his covers. 

Steve had only slept in his own house three times over the past two weeks; he’d made quite the home for himself on your couch, living out of a backpack of clothes he’d stuck in the corner of your living room. You had asked him not to leave you alone, and what kind of man would he be if he had said no to that? He probably wouldn’t even have been able to, anyway.

He didn’t know if he would be allowed to sleep in your bed with you, and he had been too afraid to ask. 

While his father never really bothered to care where his son was, and his mother trusted him enough to let him do his own thing most of the time, he was still expected to show his face at home every once in a while. He’d been stuck with the closing shift last night (even though it was outside of his availability, so thanks for that, Keith), and he knew you’d be fast asleep by the time he made it back to your apartment. You’d called the store after you got home at the much more reasonable hour of six thirty. ‘I think I can live with being alone for tonight’ you’d told him. ‘I’ve got a paper to write, anyway.’ 

Fuck, Steve really needed a better job. Preferably one that paid him more and wasn’t open until eleven p.m. on a Thursday night. 

You worked a big girl job at the Roane County Historical Society museum. You were just a secretary, but you had a salary, insurance, and all that other grown up stuff. Nine to five, four days a week, and they helped with your college tuition, too. Come May, you’d have a History degree and a teaching certification, and word on the street said Hawkins Middle was about to have a need for a  new History teacher. Unlike him, you had the perfect five year plan laid out right in front of you. 

Y’know, as long as Steve hadn’t ruined it for you. 

By the time he woke up on Friday, his father was long gone. It was nearing one in the afternoon, and the big empty house felt extra big and extra empty today. Steve glanced out the window as he poured a second cup of coffee and saw the rain collecting in the bottom of the long-since drained pool in his backyard. A handful of stray leaves sat mixed with the rainwater, some stuck in a brown mass on the bottom, some floating lazily atop the puddle. 

He was startled out of his trance by his mother’s voice and nearly dropped his full mug.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” she said as she walked into the kitchen, heels clicking along the tiles. “Or, good afternoon, rather.”

Meredith Harrington was the opposite of her husband in more ways than anyone could count. She actually enjoyed spending time with her child, for one, but there had never been an angry bone in her body. She wasn’t immune to frustration, or worry, but it was never unfounded. Yet still, for every wild flame of rage that shot from her husband's mouth, she counteracted with calmness. Or, more accurately, quiet, fearful resignation. Her husband never put his hands on her or their son, but Steve could always tell that she had spent her whole marriage walking on eggshells, waiting for the terrifying moment that he did, as if it was a simple inevitability. 

Steve loved his mom, but fuck, he wished she would just stand up for herself for once.

“God, Mom, you scared me,” Steve responded, leaning against the counter. 

“I do live here, too, y’know,” she poked back with a smile. “When did you get so jumpy?”

If she ever found out the real answer to that question, she would probably never let her son out of her sight ever again.

“Haven’t seen much of you these last couple weeks,” his mother observed. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” he insisted. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. She put the pocketbook she was holding down on the marble countertop of the island and crossed the room to lean against it, opposite her son. “I can tell, there’s far too much going on in that big head of your’s.”

Steve snorted at the well meaning insult. 

“It’s nothing mom, I promise.”

“Come on now, you know I don’t buy that,” his mother asked with arms crossed. “Talk to me, kid.” 

“I-I don’t know.” Steve was absolutely, in no way, ready to talk about any of what was going through his head, especially to his mom. ‘You might be a grandma come September’ wasn’t really something he could just drop in the middle of casual conversation.

“Is it a girl, maybe?”

Steve’s quiet was proof enough that his mother was, at least partially, right. She gave her son a knowing smile.

“Tell me it’s not Nancy again, right?” she asked. Meredith was generally a pretty forgiving woman, but Nancy had really broken her son’s heart. So, while she would always show nothing but kindness to the eldest of the Wheeler children, she didn’t have to like her. 

“Oh, no. Definitely not,” Steve assured. “That ship sailed a long, long time ago.” 

“Good,” she replied. “Will I ever get to meet this mystery girl?”

Steve just shrugged, deciding it best to omit the fact that the “mystery girl” had lived across the street for eighteen years and swam in their pool every summer for a decade.

“You should invite her over for dinner some time,” his mother said. She leaned forward and pulled a piece of errant lint off of Steve’s shoulder with perfectly manicured nails. “I’ll roast a chicken. It’ll be nice.”

“She doesn’t eat chicken.”

“She doesn’t eat chicken?” she parroted back. “What kind of person doesn’t eat chicken?”

“She’s a vegetarian, mom,” he explained. 

“Ah,” his mom accepted. “Then I’ll make that broccoli cheddar casserole you like. You know, the one I make during Lent every year? Think she’d like that?”

“Yeah, I think she would.” Steve was trying his best to hide his smile, though he wasn’t doing it all that well.

“Alrighty.” She patted her son’s shoulder as she walked past him and gathered her purse. “Well, I have to go run some errands. You’re more than welcome to join me if you’d like.”

“No, thanks.”

“Right. You’re much too cool to tag along with mom to the grocery store. How could I have forgotten?”

“No! No, it’s not that, I-”

“I’m joking, Steve,” she assured with a smile. “Make sure that cup ends up in the dishwasher, okay? Not just in the sink.” 

“Dishwasher. Got it.”

“I love you! Don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone!”

With that, the heavy front door shut and Steve was plunged into the silence of deserted suburbia. 

You were at work, he had the day off with no plans, and the idea of being at all productive sounded absolutely exhausting. He finished his coffee in two big gulps and decided the best way to spend the day would be to crawl right back into bed and wallow in his feelings.

Steve had, very much on purpose, kept most of his thoughts about your current situation to himself. Partially because every time you two did start talking about it, you ended up a slushy pile of tears in his arms. The other reason, though, the bigger reason, was that he was terrified that you would put all of your own wants and wishes to the side and do whatever he wanted you to. The concept of you having a baby you didn’t want just to appease him made him sick to his stomach.

His parents only got married because his mom ended up pregnant at nineteen, and having a baby out of wedlock in 1967 was a social sin of the highest order. So they planned a wedding in two weeks time (a small family affair, exclusively to save face and avoid the questions that arise with courthouse ceremonies), and moved into a big, fancy house so that everyone knew the Harringtons were a normal, run-of-the-mill, perfect American family. His father loved to point out all of the things he didn’t get to do all because Steve came along and got in the way, and his mother. . . 

She loved him. He knew that. He also knew that she had to pack up her life to play house with a man she was always a little bit afraid of, all because of him. His father always resented him for it, but his mom never did. At the very least, she never told him she did. 

The thought of doing to you what his father did to his mom absolutely fucking terrified him, but ‘terrified’ had been his baseline state of being pretty much constantly over the past two weeks.

Steve was no stranger to fear. He’d had extensive experience with the feeling; that sharp heaviness that settled itself behind his ribs and sucked every drop of oxygen out of his lungs. When it came at him hard and fast, that was when he could handle it best. This was not that. This fear was slow and achy, all-encompassing. It sealed itself onto his bones, like some sort of emotional slime. Like a fungus.

And, honestly, most of that fear was for you, not him. The worst thing that could happen to him was that he could end up being a shitty father, and while he would hate that more than pretty much anything in the entire world, it did sort of pale in comparison to your worst case scenario. You could die.

Yeah, maybe he was being a little bit dramatic, but you still could. It wasn’t all that far outside of the realm of possibility. You were already horribly sick, you had been for the past few weeks, and while you had been taking the constant nausea and incessant dizzy spells like a fuckin’ champ, it wasn’t like a positive attitude would be able to save you if you started hemorrhaging. 

Steve really hoped, for your sake, that you had yet to go down this train of thought, but he knew you most likely had. As terrified for you as he was, he understood that you were probably feeling all of it tenfold.

And yet, behind all of that, he was having a very difficult time squashing that tiny inkling of reckless hope that had been planted in the back of his head. He was still a 21 year old dick-head who had zero business taking care of a baby, and he definitely wasn’t allowed to be excited about it. For, like, a million different reasons.

Eventually, he fell back into a heavy-limbed sleep, but was woken up however many hours later by the shrill ring of the phone. A bleary eyed glance at the clock on his bedside table told him it was just passed six o’clock. His mother should be back by now, right? He let it ring.

 A moment passed, and it rang once more. He debated for a moment if he even had the right to answer it anymore, but he begrudgingly pulled himself out of bed and picked it up anyway.

“Harrington Residence,” he grumbled, hoping whoever was on the other side could tell how frustrated he was to be awake. 

“Steve?” Your voice came through the line. It was strained, and he heard you trying your best to disguise the sobs coming from your throat. “It’s me.”

“Hey, woah, what’s going on? What happened?” he questioned, any annoyance gone. 

“Are you able to come pick me up?” you stuttered out between sniffles. “I’m at work. I-I have a flat tire.”

“Yeah, yeah. Of course I can,” he said.  

“Okay.”

“I’m on my way, alright? Five minutes, tops,” he told you. He had the earpiece of the phone tucked between his cheek and shoulder, and the cord was stretched as far as it could go to reach into his bedroom as he haphazardly swapped his flannel pajama bottoms for a pair of jeans.

“Thank you.” Another sob.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he insisted. “Hang tight, I’ll be right there.”

The rain had slowed back to a dismal drizzle that splashed into the puddles stretched across Steve’s driveway. The drive to the museum was usually short, but the evening rush (as if the barely-there Hawkins traffic could ever be called that) slowed him down just enough for it to be annoying. The museum had officially closed an hour ago, though stray patrons and evening administrative duties usually kept you back after hours. 

Steve saw you shivering underneath the awning that hung over the front doors, comparable to a lost kitten stuck in a thunderstorm. The shoulders of your sweater were soaked through, and as Steve pulled into the parking lot and stopped his car, he could see the angry black rivers of runny mascara that dribbled down your face. 

“What the hell are you doing waiting for me out here in the rain?” Steve asked as he jogged up to where you were standing. He removed his jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders. “Why aren’t you inside? It’s freezing.”

“That creepy research assistant is in there and I hate being in the same room as him when there’s nobody else around,” you choked out, syllables broken up by wracking sobs. 

“Alec?” Steve asked, and you nodded. He pulled you tightly against him before adding, “I’ll fuckin’ kill him.”

“Please don’t do that,” you squeaked. 

“Let’s change your tire, huh?” Steve said, though he made no move to let you go. “Do you have the spare?”

“That-” your words were cut off by a pitiful sniffle. “That is the spare.”

“Of course it is,” Steve sighed, though he most certainly should not have, because it just spurred on more crying from you. “Hey, it’s alright. I can take you home and we can get a new tire on it in the morning, okay?”

“I just had a really bad day,” you wept into his shoulder.

“I know, baby. It’s okay.”

“I spilled the hottest tea in the universe all over my legs,” you croaked. Steve winced at the image. 

“I’m sorry,” he said into the top of your head.

“And since it was so hot, I accidentally said ‘motherfucker’ in front of a tour group that consisted exclusively of second graders!” you added. Steve would have laughed at that if you weren’t so wildly upset. “And Creepy Alec was being creepy all day long-”

“My offer still stands.”

“And then I came out here and my fucking tire was fucking flat!” you exclaimed, punctuated by another bout of wailing, the kind that made your whole body shake and your voice stutter. Steve took it the best he could, petting the back of your head and holding you tight, wishing he could go into your brain and dig all of the bad bits out. 

“Let me get you home, and we can get you into some dry clothes and deal with your car in the morning, okay?”

“Okay,” you whimpered. 

Steve let you go, but when he went to pull you along to his car so the pair of you could leave, you stayed planted right where you were. You lifted your watery eyes to meet his, and he gazed at you from where he stood.

“Steve?” you quietly asked him. 

“Yeah?” Steve responded. A silence fell between the two of you, though the lazy rain and evening downtown traffic poked holes through it.

“I wanna keep the baby.”

You had this amazing talent of knocking the wind right out of his chest with only words alone.

“That-” came out of fucking nowhere, holy shit!, he didn’t add. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you muttered over a wobbly lip.

Steve was paralyzed. The soles of his shoes had been superglued to the pavement and his arms had been turned to stone. It was somehow both exactly what he did and did not want to hear all at the same time, because deep down in his gut he knew he wanted that too, but there was a laundry list of reasons why it was a bad idea, why it was irresponsible, why it was maybe everything he ever wanted, and- 

“Steve, if you don’t want to do this, that's okay, but I need you to tell me. Now.” Your voice, shaky and full of fear and yet so, so determined, pulled him up and away from his thoughts once again. 

“I do!” he exclaimed, maybe with a bit too much fervor. He regained his ability to move and closed the gap between the two of you in one wide step. “I do.”

You stood silent with your glassy eyes staring bullets into his. 

“Look, I’m gonna start talking, and I don’t know if I’m going to be able to stop, so if it gets to be too much, just shut me up, okay?” Steve said. He brought his hands up to grace your shoulders.

“What?” you questioned, confusion laced throughout your miserable expression.

Steve had spent the last three and a half years doing everything he could to drown out the sounds of his feelings for you, and Robin was right. It was destroying his brain. 

“I’m really, really in love with you,” he said. “And I have been for a really, really long time. Since way before this, fuck, since before Starcourt, and I’m so fucking sorry for not having the guts to say it until now. I’m the universe’s biggest coward for that-”

“You are not a coward!”

“-And I know you deserve better, but for some reason that still eludes me, you’ve stuck with me through all the bullshit, anyway. You could’ve run away whenever you wanted to, you could’ve gone with your parents when they left, but you didn’t, and that has to mean something, right?”

“Steve,” you wept.

“I promise, there is nothing in this world that I want more than to do this with you, alright? Not a single fucking thing,” he assured you. “I meant what I said. Holding your hand the whole time.”

Steve took your trembling hand into his own, fingers fitting together like lock and key. 

“If you’ll have me,” he added.

Your lips wobbled, you let out another shattered sob, and you kissed him like it was the only thing keeping you alive. Like you would drop dead right on the spot if not for his lips on yours. Steve kissed back, because he knew he would drop dead if he didn’t, and now he had tears to match your own.

“I’m really, really in love with you, too,” you blubbered after the pair of you pulled apart. You had a hand on either side of his face, fingers ghosting over the junction of his jawline and neck, and Steve had his wrapped delicately around each wrist.

“You really wanna do this?” Steve asked you. “You really mean it? You’re not just saying it?”

“I really mean it,” you said definitively. You were still very much crying, though you were infinitely less miserable than you had been five minutes ago. The pair of you stayed swaying in each other's arms, protecting each other from the cold.

“Good, because I really mean it, too,” he responded. 

The thick, foggy haze of emotion was beginning to dwindle, and despite the warm bubble of affection the two of you had created, you were still standing out in the rain. And Steve was pretty sure he could see Creepy Alec spying on them through one of the second story windows.

“Let’s go home. I’ll make you dinner,” Steve murmured to you, and you nodded in agreement. 

Steve drove you both back to your apartment and made a feast of plain scrambled eggs and buttered toast, because it was all your stomach could really handle right now. Turns out, he very much was allowed to sleep in your bed with you, and after he’d finished doing the dishes in the sink, he joined you under the pile of blankets that adorned your mattress. Your cat curled itself up at the end of the bed as you drew yourself into his side. He didn’t remember you being this cuddly, but it was a change he was more than happy to welcome.

After a few minutes, when he’d thought you had fallen asleep, your voice pierced through the quiet of your bedroom.

“You’re gonna be someone's dad,” you muttered into his pajamas. Fuck. He was, wasn’t he?

“You’re gonna be someone’s mom,” he shot back.

“Weird,” you responded. “I think you’ll be really good at it.”

“You think so?”

“Mhm. Definitely.”

And of course Steve was still fucking terrified. Terrified of the monsters, and of his dad, and of all the different ways this could go south, but he had you tucked up against his chest, and he was gonna be someone’s dad, and he couldn’t really bring himself to care about any of the scary stuff. In this moment, for the first time in as long as Steve could really remember, the underlying current of fear that ran along his thoughts was finally overpowered by just how much he fucking adored you.

Tiny Little Taglist: @sheisjoeschateau @hazydespair @damon-loves-pie @pariahsparadise @anislabonis-love @e0509 @alexa4040 @starsforviolet @jennaaaaaaaaaaaa @plk-18 @hoesbloated

[rosethornewrites]

When I was a kid, my mom was dealing with mental illness and fibromyalgia when people didn’t believe it existed, and my dad was something of a workaholic.

She quickly realized that summers would be hell unless she packed them with activities she had to do little to nothing to prepare for.

Sure, we did the summer camps and sports and 4H that most kids do, but I think my favorite thing she found for us was archaeology. She managed to find it advertised in our small town newspaper, and I’m so glad she did.

A professor of archaeology at a state university was concerned about planned development along a local river that was known to have held native villages. There really wasn’t enough manpower or money to do “official” digs.

So he found a fun solution: he organized an archaeological summer day camp for kids above like age 6 or so.

Each day we were dropped off at a school about 40 minutes from home with anything we could need in the field (literally) in those 1980s fanny packs and bagged lunches. He and his crew of summer interns had already sectioned off the spaces and started the process, preparing the site with official labeling methods and such. And we were split into teams, usually by age, with younger teams more closely supervised by interns. (Thankfully I was on a team without my siblings and with a close friend.)

Every day, one team stayed at the school with 1-2 interns to learn to catalog the artifacts already uncovered by different teams, carefully sorted by team and space. (If it was raining we all stayed and worked.)

Everyone else would bus to the field, hike through some undergrowth, and learn to gently trowel the layers of earth away, letting him take photos of each layer as we went, and sifted the dirt through screens for anything that was so small it may have been missed. We excavated fire pits and also found the remnants of wood poles that had once been the skeletons of structures. The sediment of the former was always bagged for further analysis by experts.

During every stage we were very carefully monitored and sometimes the professor would call for a halt and show us something cool another team had uncovered.

After being cataloged, the pieces were ultimately sent to the state museum for display or storage, always with the names of the team that found them.

My team found a tiny artifact through sifting that proved that the local native village had to have trade contacts in another state due to the material it was made of, and I remember this professor being super excited about it. We were even in the local paper over it—I have the article, which had my picture accompanying it.

At the end of each of the camp the 2 years I went, we were allowed to walk through a freshly planted farmer’s field and see if we spotted arrowheads or other artifacts that we were permitted to take home with us. (Since the ground was already disturbed and the cataloging would be difficult to impossible, I’d guess.)

I’ve never been to the museum to see if that tiny piece of history I helped uncover is on display, but I will always remember how much I learned from this camp.

In some other universe, one that branched off somewhere from this one, a version of me surely pursued archaeology as a career.

[obsessedwithitall]

Speak Now Part 2 (Eddie Munson AU)

It took me a bit but I think I'm happy with this. I may come back to it and change a bit but I'm proud of it so far :)

Enjoy 🩷

Read Part 1 here

Word Count: 1.4k

***

Maybe...

The courtyard was damp as if it had been raining, the long flowers scraped wet marks across your legs. Why did you come? You didn’t feel 100% well this morning, you could've called in sick to work. You didn't have to give in to the urge to go and see what was going on next door, you could've stayed at work and organised the cutlery. Every possible thing you could've done to stop this feeling was reeling through your mind, but your heart felt empty. Eddie hadn’t been yours for years. You hadn’t spoken in that time since your mums wedding but the realisation that there would be no hope in the future was tearing you apart.

***

“Show me the dress.” Your front door opened and your mom’s voice shouted through the hallway. “I need to see what you bought.”

Her face lit up at the sight of it. She hasn't even seen you in it yet. She held it up in front of her admiring it again. The tag poked out and your step dad, Derek, took a look.

His face dropped. “Y/N, that is more than we agreed.”

“How much was it?” your mom turned the dress to see the tag, the material rustling loudly. “80$! You got it on sale right?”

“No but...”

“Sweetie, its gorgeous, and I'm sure it's gorgeous on you but we just can't afford that much. Where did you even get that kind of money?”

“I used the money you gave me and...Eddie lent me the rest.”

“Your boyfriend bought this for you?” Derek spat and it made your blood boil.

“He’s not my boyfriend!”

Your mom put her hand on Derek’s shoulder to get his attention. “He’s a friend, they’ve been friends for years. “

“No guy is buying dresses like that for his friends.”

He was wrong. But you didn’t argue because this wasn’t about you.

“That was nice of him, sweetie. But the dress will have to go back.”

***

“Y/N” a voice shouted behind you, but you didn’t stop. Where you were going you didn’t know, just away from this. This wedding, this church, the hope you had that one day Eddie would turn up at your apartment.

You stopped suddenly, a hand around a wrist pulling you back. “Y/N, please stop a minute.”

***

“I've not talked to you all day.” Eddie came from behind you, circling the bench you were sitting on. It was quiet outside. You just needed a couple of minutes to yourself, but you weren’t mad he was interrupting the quiet.

“I know, its been hectic.”

You hadn’t expected the day to go any different. Weddings were chaotic and being your mom’s only bridesmaid put extra strain on you to help her.

“You didn’t wear the dress.”

You looked down at the new dress toy had on. “Yeah, my mom didn't like it.” You lied. It had gone back, as your mom had said.

“Too bad. It looked great. And I know you liked it.” Eddie shrugged.

You loved it. It was much nicer than the dress your mom chose in the end. You didn’t hate it but it stuck to you when you moved and you couldn’t wait to get it off.

“Ill give you your money back when I see you next. Derek thinks we're dating, which I know is weird because were obviously –“

Eddie laughed so loudly and abruptly it scared you. “Can you imagine? That’s crazy.”

“Crazy?”

“I’ve never heard of anything so funny in my whole life.”

You didn’t think it was funny. You’d hoped when he heard even her step dad thought they were dating even after all this time apart that Eddie might open his eyes, but obviously you’d read the whole situation wrong. This was embarrassing.

He continued to laugh.

“Eddie stop.”

Your tone caused him to stop and the paleness that had covered your face caused him to worry.

“Are you ok? You don’t look very well.”

“I’m fine.”

“We can get out of here if you’re unwell.”

“Its my mums wedding.”

“Yeah, but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you’re sick.” He rubbed his hand down your back and you felt cold. You didn’t stay friends with him all these years to date him, but it hurt that he laughed so loudly and so long at the mere notion of dating you.

“I said I’m fine.”

He backed away. His face nearly as pale as yours. You both left that conversation there.

That summer you didn’t see Eddie anymore. You weren’t ignoring him as such you just were busy. You had stuff to do and so did he. Maybe he got the message a little too loud and clear, you thought.

***

“What are you doing here?”

“I work next door, I saw Becky, she told me to stay...I shouldn’t have, I know I wasn’t invited , I’m sorry, i ju-“

Eddie wrapped his arms around you, smashing your face into his chest. You synced your breath to his and, for a few seconds you felt the safety you used to find in him. Until he spoke.

“Tell me I’m doing the right thing.”

You pushed yourself away from him. “What?”

He took a deep breath. “Tell me I should marry Meg.”

“Ed-“

“Tell me its a good idea, tell me she’s the one for me and I’ll be happy.”

“Eddie, I don’t know you as a couple. We haven’t spoke in years.”

“I don’t know anyone who knows me better. If you tell me I should do this then I will.”

“I only know rumours...”

He laughed. He knew. Obviously he knew. Everyone knew.

“Why are you marrying her?”

“It was next, I suppose. We dated for a while and you know Meg, she gets what she wants.”

“And what she wants is you and her dentist?”

Eddie turned his face upwards, laughing at the sky.

“The dentist as well? I thought it was just a bartender.”

It was sad to see your friend like this. Thinking that he should settle for a woman who seemingly had no respect or care for him whatsoever.

“You deserve better.” you whisper.

“You deserved better.”

“You don’t have to do this you know.”

“No, I need to apologise.” For what, you thought. You hadn’t spoken in years and that was mostly your fault. He couldn’t still be thinking about that.

“No, I mean-“

Eddie cut you off with the beginning of one of his speeches. “You were at college. You were smart and doing things and I couldn’t even finish high school. I just thought, why would you ever want to date someone like-“

You raised your voice and put your hand on his mouth to stop him talking anymore. “I meant, you don’t have to marry Meg.” Your hand made its way back to your side and Eddie didn’t open his mouth to say anymore. “Please don’t.”

***

Eddie threw his bag in the back of the van and jogged round to the drivers side.

“Out.” He demanded.

“Why can’t I drive this time?” you pouted.

He shook his head. “My van, my rules.” You reluctantly slid out of he seat, your feet crunching on the path beside him.

“So does that mean if I get a van, then its my rules?”

A smirked creeped onto Eddie’s face as he leaned slowly towards you, but you sharply darted away and ran around to the passenger side. Arm outstretched, pointing at him, you shouted “If I can’t drive, you can't have kisses.” Childish, but funny, he thought.

Eddie sat in the drivers seat heavily and quickly adjust his pocket, lest you see the small box he had inside. It was risky keeping the ring in his pocket but he knew you would've already gone through the bags a million times before leaving, and then at least he knew exactly where it was.

“Are the others meeting us there?”

He stuttered a bit, “Er- yeah. I think they’re starting out a bit later.” Maybe he lied, maybe they were already there and setting up things for him.

You clipped your seatbelt and smiled over at him. The kind of big smile he loved. “You’ll have to put up with me on your on for a bit longer then.”

He would. Hopefully forever if you said yes. He knew he’d got it right this time.

***

Hopefully you enjoyed it. Feedback and comments are very welcome 🩷🩷

[shiningdesignersreflections]

Chapter 2: Wind Blew Over

Narrated by William.

Narrator: Someone called AiE... The name sounded familiar to me, like I'd heard it somewhere before...

Narrator: It's a simulation game, but it still ranks players on how well they do with their farms.

Narrator: I checked out the leaderboard and AiE was number one, while I was in second place...

Narrator: No wonder she could raid my farm!

Choose "Are you going to keep playing?"

You: Are you going to give up on the game?

Narrator: Seeing the leaderboard rankings, a fire burned within me.

Narrator: I found a new purpose in the game.

Narrator: I was going to take from AiE's farm.

Narrator: I went to visit AiE's farm, and browsed the ranch and turf.

Narrator: Gosh, was it even more extravagant than mine!

Narrator: The resources were impeccably managed and maintained.

Narrator: Along with their many crops, AiE even planted flowers, too...

Narrator: It wasn't just lavish, it was truly breathtaking!

Narrator: The sun showered the entire farm with glistening golden rays.

Narrator: A particularly red rose in the bushes added brightness to the scene.

Narrator: Even the BGM was carefully selected.

Narrator: It had a smooth guitar mingling with the crisp sound of a piano.

Narrator: The note the piano played sounded like the rain drops outside tapping against my window.

Narrator: The guitar strums were gentle, like a warm summer breeze.

Narrator: It was a perfect harmony between the virtual world and reality.

Narrator: It even made me zone out a little.

Narrator: It took a while for me to snap out of it and remember I was there to scout the enemy!

Narrator: My sister started to rant again about not being able to go out to see the flowers.

Susan: April is almost over. When will it stop raining?

Narrator: Okay, I'm done scouting! You may have pretty flowers, but they're all mine now!

Narrator: I decided to sneak into AiE's farm late at night and get some flowers to show to my sister to cheer her up.

Narrator: I followed the wi-fi signals to AiE's farm.

Narrator: She shouldn't be up this late, so this should be easy!

Narrator: I just have to watch out for the guard dogs...

Narrator: I was about to steal the flower when robots suddenly appeared and cast spotlights on me!

Narrator: Oh no, I'm busted!

Narrator: I swear I could feel the sting of the spotlights on my face even from behind my screen.

Narrator: I just got caught red-handed in the middle of the night. I was in big trouble...

Narrator: Then, AiE came out.

William: Uh, good evening... Why are you up?

AiE: Good evening. Why are you up as well?

William: I couldn't sleep, so I decided to check out who was online... but you're the only other player that's online right now...

AiE: Oh, I see.

Narrator: AiE was so naive that she actually believed it!

AiE: I usually don't get company this late at night. You're welcome to visit me whenever you'd like.

Narrator: The full moon lit up the whole ranch in the game.

William: Yeah, sure!

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

[ladylynse]

Hello! I love your works, they're all so cool! I especially love your rc9gn ones because it's my current hyperfixation. Do you think you can make some (even your 3-sentences ones would make me really happy!)? I have a bunch of prompts!

Prompt 1: Viceroy trying to create a robot, but something went wrong (Bash/McFist/a robo-ape probably messed it up) and it caused an electric short-age to the whole town

Prompt 2: There's a thunderstorm at the end of class and everyone was advised to wait out the storm before they could get home, shenanigans ensues

Prompt 3: (contains human!Nomicon) the Nomicon thinks about all the good and bad things his current student has done

I have more, but I don't want to spam you with all of them, so here's all I'll give! It's fine if you can't do any of it, I'm just thankful for the work you've alr done!

Thanks so much, Anon! I'm sorry I'm getting to this so late, but I am delighted you like what I've written. I really appreciate you letting me know!

These prompts are best for ficlet prompts (specific scenarios always are), and unfortunately my ask box isn't open for that at the moment, but I'll turn them into three sentence prompts: blackout, stormbound, and human!Nomicon AU, reflections. I'm specifying what I'm boiling the prompts down to because I don't take specific scenarios for three sentence fic prompts anymore, so I ask for a word or two (along with the AU if it's an AU) for those, and this is how I'm going to list them in my three sentence fic list. (I'm still going to do your scenarios because I'm assuming you're new and don't know what I've been doing more recently, but this will give you an example of how a prompt can be boiled down.) You are welcome to still share any ideas you have, though! (It's always fun to see what people come up with.) I just won't necessarily turn them into ficlets.

Prompt 1 - Blackout

“Viceroy,” McFist growled in the sudden silence that seemed all the louder for the absence of any hum of machinery, “what did you do?”

Viceroy pinched the bridge of his nose—of course he’d get the blame for this when McFist, in all his enthusiasm, had been the one to activate the prototype before it was ready—but somehow summoned the patience to say, “It seems premature activation caused a power outage that, if the view out the window is any indication, is affecting the entire town; if you had waited—”

“The Ninja was right here,” snapped McFist, his words nearly—but not quite—covering up the sound of a pair of feet hitting the floor behind Viceroy and their owner no doubt dropped from above, “and if he’s going to show his face under my own roof, I’m going to send every WND we have after him!”

Prompt 2 - Stormbound

Randy didn’t think it would be too long before the rain let up enough for them to safely leave, but Howard—and clearly Heidi—had other ideas, since Howard had his phone out and was willingly watching Heidi’s Me-Cast, where she was saying, “Hey, N-villers, Heidi here with the DL on the downpour; the storm has us all stuck in school, so I propose a contest: first person to—hey!”

“First person to discover the real secrets of Norrisville,” continued Debbie, her face only partly in frame and the entire camera bouncing as she scrambled to keep the phone out of Heidi’s reach, “will win the prize. So how about it—who wants to unmask the Ninja with me?”

Prompt 3 - Reflections, Human!Nomicon AU

He would be lying if he called Randy his best student or his most skilled one, but Randy may well be the one who most embodied what it meant to be the Norrisville Ninja; he had a heart that wouldn’t fail him, and when he dealt with the likes of the Sorcerer and now the Sorceress, that was the most valuable of all.

Of course, he also had more luck than the last ten Ninjas combined, and at times like these, it was hard to accept (despite ample supporting evidence) that that luck was entirely natural and not the result of a magical artefact altering the luck of others and bending fortune to his own favour, no matter how well that would explain the current predicament.

“Yo, Nomi,” called Randy, since Randy had insisted on calling him that once he’d realized he wasn’t speaking with the one he called First Ninja, “now that you’re, like, a person and not a book, this is a perfect time to teach me how to do the Ninja Dragon Fist, so how ‘bout it?”

-|-

see more fics | more RC9GN fics

[newstfionline]

Thursday, January 18, 2024

Pacific Northwest hunkers down for ice and freezing rain, while other US regions also battle cold (AP) Parts of the Pacific Northwest were under an ice storm warning through Wednesday morning, threatening to add to the damage brought by a powerful winter storm that hit the region over the weekend. Area of southwest Washington and western Oregon—including that state’s largest cities of Portland, Salem and Eugene—were expecting to see a quarter-inch to an inch (6 to 25 millimeters) of ice, while freezing rain was forecast in the Seattle area. Schools were closed in many places, bus service curtailed and warming shelters opened while officials warned of continued treacherous road conditions and the chance of new power outages, even as crews struggled to restore electricity to thousands who have been blacked out for days.

What the Child Care Crisis Does to Parents (NYT) On a Saturday morning last May, Julia Sachdev, a mother of a 2-year-old and 4-year-old, woke up to an email from her children’s preschool. The school—which her children adored and had been in operation for over 50 years—announced that it would be closing in a month. In the following days, she and her husband scrambled to find an alternative that was a reasonable driving distance from their home. Most of the places they reached out to had long waiting lists. Some said their waiting lists were full. Some never even called them back. The Sachdevs’ experience is far from unique. For years, American parents—regardless of family roles, paid work status, geography or income—have struggled to find and maintain stable child care. Research shows that roughly half of Americans live in child care deserts, meaning that they have limited or no access to care. In September, federal relief funding put in place to support more than 220,000 child care programs during the pandemic abruptly expired. This steep drop-off in investment, which has been termed a child-care cliff, is projected to lead to the closing of thousands of preschools and child care centers around the country. Some families are already feeling the impact, and many more may soon find themselves in situations like the Sachdevs’.

Trump's rise sparks isolationist worries among US allies (Reuters) As Donald Trump strengthens his lead in the race for the Republican presidential nomination, some U.S. allies are worried about an American turn toward isolationism, a shift that would reflect an electorate largely focused on domestic issues. That was shown in polling in Iowa where Trump scored an overwhelming victory, with foreign policy the top issue for just one in 10 participants in the state's caucus. National polling provides a similar picture. When Americans have cited matters involving foreigners as the country's top problem, they most often have referred to immigration and not foreign conflicts, Reuters/Ipsos polling over the last decade shows. While domestic concerns have long dominated U.S. politics, isolationism has grown in recent years—particularly within the Republican Party.

French President Macron uses broad news conference to show his leadership hasn’t faded (AP) French President Emmanuel Macron made a point of showing his leadership hasn’t faded in more than two hours of answering questions at a news conference in which he promised a stronger France to face the world’s challenges. “I still have three years and a half in office,” he said, describing an ambition to both change the daily life of the French and tackle global crises. The 46-year-old centrist president promised “audacity, action, efficiency” in the hopes of strengthening his legacy through a series of reforms, starting with an economic bill meant to boost growth and tax cuts for middle-class households.

Ukraine needs money from the US and Europe to keep its economy running. Will the aid come? (AP) Ukraine’s hard-won economic stability is under threat again as the government faces a large budget hole and its two biggest allies and sponsors—the United States and the European Union—have so far failed to decide on extending more aid. Without pledges of support by the start of February—when EU leaders meet to decide on aid—and if no money arrives by March, that could risk the progress Ukraine has made against inflation. It has helped ordinary people keep paying rent, put food on the table and resist Russia’s efforts to break their society’s spirit. Ukraine spends almost all the money it brings in through taxes to fund the war. That leaves a huge deficit because there are other bills to keep society functioning, like old-age pensions and salaries for teachers, doctors, nurses and state employees.

Putin says Ukraine’s statehood at risk if pattern of war continues (Reuters) Russian President Vladimir Putin said on Tuesday that Ukraine’s statehood could suffer an “irreparable blow” if the pattern of the war continued, and Russia would never be forced to abandon the gains it had made. Putin made his televised comments a day after Switzerland agreed to host a global summit at the request of Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskiy. Putin dismissed “so-called peace formulas” being discussed in the West and Ukraine and what he called the “prohibitive demands” they entailed. “Well, if they don’t want (to negotiate), then don’t!” he said. “Now it is quite obvious, not only (Ukraine’s) counter-offensive failed, but the initiative is completely in the hands of the Russian armed forces. If this continues, Ukrainian statehood may suffer an irreparable, very serious blow.”

NATO official warns West: Be ready for ‘anything’ (Politico) NATO countries need to be on red alert for war and "expect the unexpected," the chair of the alliance's military committee of national chiefs Rob Bauer said Wednesday. "We need public and private actors to change their mindset from an era in which everything was plannable, foreseeable, controllable, focused on efficiency ... to an era in which anything can happen at any time. An era in which we need to expect the unexpected," Bauer said. “The tectonic plates of power are shifting,” he added. “And as a result: We face the most dangerous world in decades.”

Deadly Iranian Strikes in Iraq and Pakistan Inflame Regional Tensions (NYT) Iran hit its neighbors Pakistan and Iraq with missile strikes on Tuesday, prompting strong denunciations from both countries and raising fears that upheaval in the Middle East could spiral out of control. In both cases, Iranian officials said they were going after terrorists they accused of being behind recent attacks on its territory that have badly shaken Iranians. This month, suicide bombers killed 84 people at a memorial procession for a revered Iranian military leader, and in December, an attack on a police station killed at least 11 officers. The Iraqi and Pakistani governments rejected Iran’s justifications. Iran’s actions came amid widespread fears that the devastating war in Gaza could become a broader and deadlier regional conflict.

Gaza keeps losing communications (Washington Post) Israel’s war on Hamas has deprived people in Gaza of food, water, electricity and shelter. It’s also disrupted communications. Gaza’s cellphone network had struggled before the conflict. Now, under Israeli bombardment and the mass displacement of Gazans, it’s failing as people are trying to connect with loved ones and secure resources. Communications blackouts have also stymied aid organizations and emergency workers trying to coordinate with the local population and with each other. And for Gaza’s journalists, the blackouts are an impediment as they try to inform the world about suffering in the enclave. Israeli bombing has damaged cellphone networks, according to Mamoon Fares, director of corporate support for the Palestinian Telecommunications Co., or Paltel, one of two providers in the enclave. Most of the internal fiber connections that link to switches and street cabinets “are damaged and need to be fixed,” he said. Cellphone towers had also been damaged. “We have more than 550 towers inside Gaza,” said Fares, who is based in the West Bank city of Ramallah. “Most of them were partially or completely damaged.”

Qatar and France send medicine for hostages in Gaza as war rages on (AP) A shipment of medicine for dozens of hostages held by Hamas was en route to Gaza on Wednesday after France and Qatar mediated the first agreement between Israel and the militant group since a weeklong cease-fire in November. The medicines arrived in Egypt and were on the way to the border. A senior Hamas official said that for every box provided for the hostages, 1,000 boxes would be sent in for Palestinians. The deal also includes the delivery of humanitarian aid to Palestinians in the besieged coastal enclave. The agreement came more than 100 days into a conflict that shows no sign of ending.

U.S. Strikes Houthi Targets in Yemen for a Third Time (NYT) The United States carried out a new military strike against Houthi ballistic missiles in Yemen on Tuesday, the U.S. military said, but the latest salvo against the Iran-backed group left the White House grappling with how to stop a battle-hardened foe from disrupting shipping lanes critical for global trade. The strikes on Tuesday, the third overall against the group since a U.S.-led air and naval barrage hit dozens of targets last week, destroyed four missiles that the Pentagon’s Central Command said posed an imminent threat to merchant vessels and Navy ships traveling through the Red Sea and nearby waters. But the pre-emptive American strike also came on the third day in a row the Houthis have defied the Biden administration and its allies by firing missiles at passing ships, damaging a Greek-owned cargo vessel on Tuesday. The Houthis damaged a U.S.-owned commercial ship on Monday after attempting to hit an American warship the day before.

China’s population falls (WSJ) Births in China dropped by more than 500,000 last year to just over 9 million in total, accelerating the decline in the country’s population as women shrugged off the government’s exhortations to reproduce. The number of newborns has gone into free fall over the past several years. Official figures released Wednesday showed that China had fewer than half the number of births in 2023 than the country did in 2016, after China abolished the one-child policy. The latest number points to a fertility rate—the number of children a woman has over her lifetime—that is close to 1.0, a level considered by demographers as “ultralow.”

Invasive fire ants form ‘rafts’ as they spread on Australia’s waterways (Washington Post) An environmental group has issued a warning about the invasive threat posed by fire ants, which have been documented forming “rafts” in floodwaters to access new territory amid ongoing heavy rain and cyclone conditions in Australia’s northeast. Reece Pianta at the Invasive Species Council said the insects were “one of the world’s worst invasive species” and were known to be more active immediately before and after rainfall. They can be seen joining together in buoyant clumps pulled along the current in waters in the Gold Coast region of Queensland state this month, in video footage the council shared Tuesday. “They can form rafts and float on floodwaters and land in new locations to reestablish their colonies once the floodwaters recede,” Pianta said in a phone interview. “Quite remarkable, but also quite scary.” Fire ants are capable of a sting that can be painful for an hour and in rare cases can cause a life-threatening allergic reaction. They often attack in a swarm of ants stinging at once.

[joelywoely]

EHAT SPECIES IS GRIAN. IS HE A FUCKING RAINWING/RAIN HYBRID I;M GOIJNG OT K?ILY LO U

sorry i got excited i'm very excited. i'm very excited at this i loooove wings of fire so much what the fuck do you mean someone else out there has thought abt making a life series wof au.

i have a million thoughts about what species and hybrids they'd be but i don't think this is the place to share that..... Sigh........ grian is so Insanely sandwing coded. though. need to say this. need to spread and share my truth GOOD DAY! I WOULD LIKE TO HEAR ABSOLUTELY EVERY DROP OF INFORMATION YOU MAY HAVE ABOUT THIS AU!

HI!

okay so grians species is actually kinda complicated

he was born as game watcher, an animus nightwing working under his mentor, secret keeper. he helps to organize tournaments between tribes on the mainland, tournaments that frequently end up going to death, a bit like scarlet's battle arena. though, one day, he got too attached to a participant in the game, which is a big no no and secret keeper cursed him to become a "lazy, bumbling rainwing for the rest of his days"

he moves permanently to the mainland and into the rainforest, plotting his vengeance and trying to find out how to cure himself.

since he looks like a very. weird rainwing though jimmy and joel end up finding him and trying to recruit him to their little hybrid clique.

jimmy is a rainsea hybrid named canary and joel is a rainmud hybrid named leaf. they're kinda the weirdos of the rainwings and, because grian is 1. generally bad at "acting like a rainwing" and 2. looks like a weird sort of hybrid of some kind, they take him under their wings for a while.

while out one night, trying to find that portal to the nightwing island, grian is ambushed.

when he wakes up hes in the scorpion den, ran by cleo, a skysand hybrid named cobra. she gets to be nicknamed king cobra cause I think its it's fun. turns out theres a small bounty on his head, but cleo will spare him (for now) out of good faith, them both being hybrids and all.

scar is the one who kidnapped him. formerly named sahara, scar was renamed after gaining all his battle wounds. hes like the quibli to cleos thorn. scar doesnt exactly appreciate cleos generosity, but he doesnt do anything further. hes just tasked with showing grian around, hes essentially his assigned best friend. neither of them care to much for it.

one day the skywings raid the scorpion den, lead by martyn, who is named general mars. grians wing gets injured in his and scars escape, cleo is captured.

scar wasnt able to fly anyway, but he refuses to leave grian, carrying him away on his back.

they are left stranded in the desert and become closer, grian still trying to find a cure for his curse. jimmy and joel are still looking for him.

some extra things:

tango is an overcooked skywing with too much fire, though he isnt with the skywing kingdom, hes actually imprisoned there. his name is blaze. also gay rancher love

lizzie is the seawing queen who's name is axolotl. she and jimmy are half siblings and shes been searching for him since his egg was stolen from the hatchery. his egg was yellow, btw, so shes looking for a yellowy seawing. his name was going to be cod. she and joel meet and fall in love at first fight.

scott is one of her ambassadors and friends, helping her try to find jimmy. his name is seafoam.

pearl is grians sister, her name is, of course, pearlescentmoon, named that mostly just because she was born on a bright bright night. she can see into the future and she desperately wants to return her brother to a normal life.

cub is an icewing named polar (last name bear lol. cuz. cub.) and he and scar met when they were both taken as prisoners. they're besties but dont talk often. etho is also an icewing, his name is icicle.

ren is the skywing king, his name is just red. they call him the red king.

this is fairly new so I haven't done much work on it this is kinda all I got rn

also take some doodles

that jimmy is before I decided hed be a searain hybrid.

I'll totally take alternate hybrid ideas btw!! names too, lol

[kepesktribe]

Writers game: First sentences.

Rules: post the first sentence of your last ten fics. If you haven't written ten fics, share as many first-sentences as you have.

(I haven't written a fic in a while, so RP's is going to have to do. Luckily I have a few AU's in progress. Also... I may do more than just a sentence for each. Some aren't the start of the AU though, since my rp partner made some of the starters... but they are part of my first reply to the starters.)

Tagged: @elveny Thank you so much! I actually enjoyed this one because I get to show a bit of my AUs and writing. I think I have too many AUs. Lmao

Tagging: This is a lot... so I am going to just say anyone who wants to do it.

The princess and the merman. (Sybil x Abela fairytale AU)

Once there was a prince of the sea who had been lost since he was little. His memories carried the voices of family, grown distant through time, and the glow of light from above.

2. Knightly Memoria (Janlenoux x Adelphel amnesia AU. With the help of Sybil, the two live in Gridania and work for Sybil under fake identities as members of his squadrons. Jan loses his memories after an accident.)

Sybil paced the edges of a newly formed hole in Issom-Har. From above, a remainder of last night's rain dropped from a leaf to slip under his collar.

3. Knightly Memoria 2.0 (Janlenoux x Adelphel. Role reversal amnesia AU. This time Adelphel is the one to lose his memory while out helping Abela in "The Hundred Throes".)

Steel clashed against steel, two daggers against a single broad sword and a shield. Janlenoux spun as he came in with his shield to block a rather well done but slow strike of one of Meuliaire's blades.

4. Blood Dripped Rose (Another victim, devoid of blood. A single card decorated with the stamp of a blood dripped rose. "I'm Sorry." Written in shaken handwritting. {Vampire Florentel/Detective Sorrel AU})

The Jeweled Crozier, ever bustling with life regardless of anything happening elsewhere in Ishgard. Merchants called out to get the attention of possible customers. Tableware, blankets, easy to store foods. Each stall housed unique wares to fit anyone's needs. People haggling filled the air and children ran between one person and another.

5. Beneath the Stars (Prophet Florentel and disgraced hero Sorrel AU)

Fire rained down upon stone and soil, smoke filling the air and choking it. Even the moon hid from the sight below. Lingering monsters prowled the destroyed town, feeding upon inhabitants that had not made it out. Silence followed the sounds of despair, deafening in the night. Yet it was that silence, a bubble around the town, that soon was heard the slow treading of footsteps. The ringing bell of boots, purposeful in making, splitting the air.

6. Wilted Wings (Angst AU Florentel x Sorrel. Literally made this AU for the pain. At least they will get a happy ending... eventually. Can't say the same for Aruktai and Otome in this one though.)

Kazeninotte had stayed behind, lingering as the other void users slowly began to trickle out after their moment with Sorrel. A warm smile tilted her lips as she listened to Zeneroseus complain about the energy used up and his immediate deserving of a nice nap. She didn't argue. He did deserve it.

7. Free Wings (Fluff AU Florentel x Sorrel. Takes place in WoL Sybil's timeline where Florentel (My actual shard of Azem) actually did die at birth and thus was reborn after the events of MSQ where peace mostly exists... and falls in love with Sybil's son, Sorrel. Beginning starts during an Ishgardian Ball.)

If there was one thing he wanted to be doing, it was not this. Over the heads of those gathered, stunning blue took on a veiled mask. It wasn't that he did not like these kinds of things. It was that he attracted the wrong kind of attention during them.

This is where I run out of currently active or finished AUs and I don't remember posting order of my drabbles... so you get drabbles at random from here out.

8. Scars (How my half blind Miqo bard, Mikh'to, got his face scars. Song is "My Ladies Eyes" from the 'The Last Herald-Mage' book series by Mercedes Lackey. My favorite books.)

"The days may speed, and then, I heartward hie, I flee, I fly, To see her eyes again." Mikh'to sang to the sounds of his harp, each word between a pluck of strings. Around him tavern dwellers drank and cheered to one of his most requested songs.

9. Unnamed (Janlenoux had a dream of when he got his eye scar.)

Janlenoux sighed as he leaned back into his pillows, which he had propped up against the wall at the head of the bed. As comfortable as he was, he still didn't like how he was made to rest for a few days. Reaching a hand up, he hovered it over his bandaged eye but refused to touch the still fresh wound.

10. Unnamed (Pasithea, as her Ancient self, while working on a project... a flower whose spores strengthen the gift of soul sight. It.. uh.. fails.)

Bright, curious eyes peered at the oddly shaped, large flower. "Oh, I think I shall have to rework the size. Perhaps remove the sporehead and settle for a more elegant, petal design too. I have created something much too unsightly."

[libidomechanica]

Untitled Composition # 10875

A curtal sonnet sequence

               1

Joan walls went. I have from my husband aver agree: eternal Grove; nor break a twofold toyes are hold true, ’ and to die: ah, her teens. Look at no further husband Johnny! Who see, bound the sibyl stool-ball, we may me that he moon, and so I write, and Sleep of Bessy at a’! Perfect streaks.—The moon singing her lute does it and the hill, or drops a lattice written in flowers, much powers, but with an empire break. Toot, toot!

               2

The Clay of to hauing man. Since, as I forgive if any laud the tent with that light in this worthy, or thee, that he smiled upon a sunny landscapes, maud with such fair who would artless silk was its refuse, not out, thy fame, but a signes must disgrace in flow, and he owls beggar and me down; then fair, or ribbed wi’ care I free. Well of eight my father is fully where is trick’s dream—the other wine upon throught thing himself more.

               3

I hid my lips and laugh and on that every pearling Home of our gladly spak’ the dance, to touch drove that Lost with me i carry youthful to herself to things of joy he had caught dance that taught half daddy, somewhere one alone, how cunning can scarce sold to make of themes in they shall source, twould the spoken, and good at it invaded me on the be morn did: her mammie’s your hands in my breathing. The hide, than prison- wall, alas!

               4

Through the eye loves to any land? My verse seekes from suddenly beauty and shadow where. A worthier peace in in and I forgive our sameness. The came had were bars to singing even of a kiss, she way, what which prison-wall: that making in that lady wing’d ships, who never will I never woman’s heart, which ay morn to my own, but the now has a calendar could heart movement she with crooked on their riotously.

               5

Sometimes insister and loves, her sight it is she appears, more set up-locked to rear flattery? Beneath the neither’s grow. Perhaps, which in be cause; but he’s grows. That mine eyes doth command, the inlaid who is it will be out. The owls have slewed for thou dost bread. My hope of startless mud-honey burrs, and by unrest. Are many, in blast line we hae seems, I then pray biginneth thy records euen the watered immense it but raine.

               6

A knelt though he dark where we were was its spoken, and daught in the style, and tower to the eyes a woman rise from over that you deeply plane shouldst stay; I feel waits for on his owne like a scar better could restle a poise has advise; and gibe the Hour to ceased together down on youth torches hire left in one. Doll’s kindly inconverse see Tweed’s without knowing their to be elders main to buy, aboon died for love no more.

               7

Which helpe I cries, there’s safe, what hundress yellowing love, lay neither idiot boy! The gender the streaks, that must tell triumphs pinned the sight be a death the was saline of them as honored door is firm and time, for he hearts do sturre, and twilight longer their own front tell what waters, and down thy chamber. Red could I the other joys couple stole feet hath master either in the came like to the nights betrother signal share.

               8

While sobd-out words they blue and my sun: and red, i’ll to the gorse; there forfeit: so show but when thought; but with gentle woods were or will speak, ev’n from the gentle moment’s terrible Self, whose sad, more, till call’d from dreamt of bane of urine. Body of the will beings a love Doubt in scarlet close within mine receipt with feare, because I was a locks that Johnny, everybody know not when he courting gypsey-folk. Who in the reioyce.

               9

Only my grave such a sign to the comfort is glimmering head, cross and fasten’d, as from a curses clothes, which rhyme? Conform the hies; tis heart to field that he who came a thou dost for all its sake long, dance, so thy from loving and catch: she never the filthy dear boy, you hast loss that so stray amang the hies, infinitely show, as unmix’d then? Ignorant of the was a call for what is my love each narrow, each other.

               10

And who not one can; his golden play at all dangers, to Do. Who in my soul may thy browe broken undo it went wittie Lewes to sends they have sprout of my break. Your voice complicate and place for my bow, or fame.—A loud that Johnny’s in she approachful stay; I fear no fate, and smallest set, like a sunbathed Doctor’s doomed black against heart and the most fair, or in women in tree—where forgive me that lives, and will not long.

               11

Out of memory to Heaven and shade. Us points with eye loved, drowns are not tell but with his book decorates and his man, I’d groans, a brazen board and shoot. Why warming God’s kind beds did not a day that I come! Loves to breath of small the but never saw thee? No more the moon’s roar; and raise in my better longer and have knows here thou dost breeds that says herself in Susan’s bones, O Sea! Which habbe yhent, too He did.

               12

And Betty Foy? Better and my Julia. Thought sunck, and I shall losing without around another moves in memory in his fair ynough. Nor many days too creeds like the stroke of all night in another mind that mean. By somewhere a ponder. Let all scrutinizing or to the forbids to say nothing with such unholy ground of themselves pain, applying, the sweeter the often leaden sky, hell, be won, beat their beer.

               13

Little past, let by night dale; they lengthened dogs lie down; the runningly, wind my feet& understand may because that I perceive heart, I forget young, fair o’er this ago you love is; i’m sorrowes fairness, knowing, hath my graces spoke and became here by thee; nor bread of her goe! At last die to only shoulders throught is the great and morning of libertie? Your naked shade did they are to a dog, as I grieve, the sounds, no name.

               14

Edward, have knows; yet unset with you. So that mole by only know hath cheere and who liuely finished wife, and deferred from a dreadful fears to burning the night obligation. For sport took they do suggest my words Salámán hear the barren so much pow’r before awful far from their own, and sometimes atten’d of mud on the flies; their riot every day, watching; by art’s ground, yet even the deservice disguised good and a’!

               15

Sweet bring his come: sometime and drowsy speeches might be, if nothing, but soon grins of Fate well? Days and bonny burr, burr, and with a heart beautiful, before. Of moss looked up and love, the silly round subtle spirit of her the will kiss, she doctor’s doorways, as unmix’d and now them eternal years pervades of twilight air way; if Susan, what doth tried when he bud with bosom’d to Night a little built with will night; but a blood.

               16

Like a symphony&in all So never saw a wist nard. I’m so entangle with unwilling home a quart of accident. The bright. That Solemnities I would I iust tallied for wheel, amuse men the differed shipwreck within arraignty he is a moths share ran my sad teach handbags. His gane whose Present Deity life he money of years he wongest, the padded, nor his hands are dabbled from limb—oh dear confined back.

               17

And the room beside at his honey’d rais’d no such were the not a wretched weed-clogged way, the often flye. With heauenly a staring what write. Out of a vast she sight and went upon the shalt never once mountain cleft us from other’s warm at ease. A month of love? But, oh, her charged of a virtue sedateness and delight, and all that fright, while and with will not known and have no soone as well agree thine in man’s great true love.

               18

No hand rise, which thee is a germ or a most Peace of a wounds that I comments his hand looked and this task, must away frozen boarding phrase, cheat or spur, that rich we never shining step into my ride how she milk! And knew so wide, strive; of moods as surrent case these laddie’s warm and my anguish night away: the Night, the day this face to speak and forbid! Sure, the balm it is bare far extend less deeply too: why way make was filed.

               19

That flies; tis unwelcome a king, he feathe— because thee, the Rust Belt. That his soueraigned, drag on Love, thou dost be; but in man’s days I taker mad; mad in fell them throughly in like ape or fame, once to blaw! Into be ado, scarce benefit of a vanish’d, Love’s ta’en like name upon the pale, and to the brave. When I restores’ accompts did that their hooks, fit bats scarce a moment before my mother words resolute, in the leg.

               20

Until he excitement, and dying: and and my achine. As always the fields in a crystal stood he bitter flowers. Two love came way more hard the sudden she walks that forever, burr at all: only friends, nor Moon. Tarry and hating Susan lay of reuerence all let us in the moon weep, they wilt thou be kindness must charm of loosened hands had been farewell! The lake let me throughts enjoy’d nor the walk silent—the was stown!

               21

Wait till the shines of gloom, which to each, let us play, thou requisite no watch thou be kinder lock with Tears! You will, I do not by this. As if it beauty being holes. But grew worst diverting you, your finger it grows holding breed, that shore, hawk on me for and play’d without knocker, rap, rap, rap, the owen makes to prayers, loves in debate, Luke Havergal. While outside, there is fairy-gifts the first man had before his shame.

               22

If Johnny, ever dream that which man might too death our babe from their loves they neither cheeks, and by band to give good New Yorker and these long. Shell to a though a living keys my hear the restless day commeth he was deserts with midnight because nor reward does now she’s happy, the attend the Fantom of your praising for who did reed. And I see: each holly-tree, both to God I never sense and have lose his candle, your wine.

               23

As in to mine earthstone. And cold that euer here on bettered, joy, I think I made you thyself so, but left me a things you here what you are not word but when we tasted arrest of a nest, by new cold and squirm newly as a second and crush’d, who play, his hands of mind, flung rose whole place with this broad, oh God, found, around meek that is adore stranger thou are with joy a some sing, of all, self to a great the stole thy murderous.

               24

There bet and charge, was his april wears full in war upon the glen; and true, despise. And to flowers on your arms ’gainst thy old Susan ground he hazel braes, do crown the drank that cannot that her fleur-de-luce so late and rather locks will let this made me kind is defiled our roots to be and gentle ticks are breast is the to read not sit and praise, and a peacocks of love is they joined cocks my pour mouthed in vain! For end, my Dearie!

               25

The wifebeater I do leaue to turn my hands would Human voice of pain, some days I will say his crying Fable. God’s store— the will her inspiration of hatred hands of old, there he lilies a pleasure as swerve thy lips and though my hangman’s snow- white! Pain is which thunder and so sweet, if she had gives that, near. A hugely stood my left slays was her soul’s eyes are case thirsty mind, his silent horse, and lust is the moon- struck, kiss.

               26

Hope’s side: with chat. Who most dell, and a swallow and lay a mute, it was a city made, never whatever come to fever! His artfully dreams are you be kindly later shiny blush, so in my sick of an on the placed my life, God that’s wish that while I loue young Charlie Cochran was said: I never with, till lasts poor Susan had to God nor wish of felt thou; go the hand, rank before still.—Oh dear pony that love I brings.

               27

Not a hole. Poor Betty’s stool-ball, while gray city, and elm have broad rejoicing grace the eye at thou my vertue, awake. Or where is a crystal’d limbs. If even so farre met—into thin my top teeth of Love’s turn shadow, Cynara! And scorn to the goes it passion. Mouth be hearts, unutterable the doctor’s door, what can I be cleanse from a few, that hobbles and thus far nor ruled, for, they too much is left when their life would be.

               28

Let me a quart of comfort and my will but the temper, the Law gave him still: the kiss. For only shiel, and raigned to the dictions Act: they say, singing joy he is not dare I, whose his Hand of unmatch whom a fusion its pattering you probably and looked for the star-pitchen can affords in burnies troubled there is way: the villain famous in prison-wall: only visible too shore, there is fail’d, and, fallen adown.

               29

September once is death an endless Earth and tasted my life would have did not wonder. Saints, as skill, but Betty, now must female ever yet cap was the same and tear objected, all madness, while think scorn of Man the bird upon her look off, dead, movement thing with him be toom, who looks o’ her boddice sae blush, so in me, O Joy, now mountains, and pearl dissolved in possession, what shining more love Do you was a last. Of mood?

               30

Apt emblem of the dale; the touched, that strangle sore, to fears re-sighing out him—oh Khalífah, howeuer he cloath’d my father kill it wastes and which wooed world’s bicycle, and lust of there, should have star and do you soarer, the glow. I will calendar of sad discourselves inside now they say, watched against my name here, tis the Araby’s or every human half, damned green leaves the green-grownde did farther Laws are so much with me?

               31

My versity that is soul can closer the other head. And, on boundless so oft have at all his soul was upright as he sake, were unfolded the true, ’ have month of moss, gets the than of Death.&In all thy adjuration, nor house for it a woman accurse. The thinkest to shows where could comes, but a burn the river saw a mask of flightful eye; let all, Lucia, let men the fetid breast guards where; he does not directly tell.

               32

Still at one news so the gate, in golden walks my head against Peace or lessed the take they sow. Thou might feel of appear but hurried and up the blest heart, my License and sick of me, while the villains by night, thy soul upon a part the wind! My heart the world adieu, a world is her bright! She passion of all in proof, and that I pedaled my thou wert left but as the bread. Have here is not give thou thyself know not where fast;—oh!

               33

As the dear Redeemer saw a mate insane. Was red an out of a child at leather, and Love, there: for a stones, bonie Jeanie’s way that I do vow and for you and around by absence and aver out of loyal Life’s idle, you looked on call flesh was so stride a valley of his hand love and she hide they empty airless is tongue-tied the long. I wished tent thoughts increase, ye hence and gladly strike you plaints! Have drank by range a tears.

               34

Since of Plato, to dig—middle all in such unholy ground to their gates apart handbags. Your came a broken shower of love to loves and aye between to one earth. Who kept, and its snare before the can neither and lost in thiness or many a glory, what it see is theme, and he cricket cap was salutary aim, if nothing speak a twofold high, so show cheer, what the turns to waiting force, she’s high up themes in me.

               35

Nay, Betty fifty pony, when he crept behind my grow stifled with his like sweet your way he king arounds of my heart all in vain, my hair we turned through that is by thy changes, and may stay:—she’s hand, sooth’d his way the fell world’s gaze upon the sun. Had each one angeling through dull work, and then, sweet purple thighs, plain famous in such a sudden pride our whole. The increase, ye was talk seem’d her spirit of his hole.—That winds are cleare.

               36

But in these ladies up upon his pony moved as once like a sound and dear Love good like themes in-may star and I seemed just and brance! Very leaves in sigh: the pride their race, when light, thy combine, and squirm newly altering a foe. And will ye all not heard of a mill, thy own and began, but waits for the Breath here, petal, fallen purple grapes, maud made your she wheel it did reel; and throne, or mistress; old Susan right in Truth’s nest.

               37

Last nights better fill’d to my side: by love so fraid my blooms but eerie; and married and the sacks, weak, a softly turns, a years, strive; of me, and mow, we specks foul pride of my heart the appear and do aspire to blaw! A drunk of. On hew hire hard, I know, the day: and as its hue, and the light and so that day by days are fast by my self shouts with souls endured, silently pit of shall not Living yards are to be a ghostliest place.

               38

Of a thunder the chiel maun party’s firm and join. Nor than Christ enter he warre. Very masque the this is she place those petty fifty pond shall nobler were still, to dreadful where! Maud with the west will; for joy. Sits of others to go of its for my hangel is they shall forgot for on me for a trees. She had never sae blush, but he’s apple with purple turned in golden change a thou shall relide. Thanked up. Maybe wise; and Meg.

               39

No, the tower, lean on my sweet love: o Jeanie wiser to us: and the state and rehab and shook my every care ours, to feel you forget the air the break out of blood cheese and oh, her Pasty luscious Eyes are love than off gorged of his shuddering on Love amongst thee! To whom she laws of the tower in the South, I shall I had ne’er denied sings of electrons have clock some coarse-mouth a torrent horsman too well?

               40

If her blow. Sweet—then he clanks. I saw that wringing lack’d, to keeping too, like you art Being her powers be on the be from never rain is the wardrobe doth abide, and haunt my brown a heart loup lightful each grated mourner whether—the face any challen purple grapes and Taste, eaten by your eyes of him, she’s good, which floated in the Lord, dare than those room for the Lark is work, and would unders, from abroad, at news so change.

               41

Not tell beat train’d. It is not quit you so dear objects together always has all whole wheel, amuse men abide, and makes it not have spread our brakes and thee: make himself to bed. To men are congruity the feasts, tired of sight always watched took than at once my lov’d: oh pardon winter, and thou, Fancies dwells what he drank before a ghost, or spring eyes and while great the green. Happens, eve and wine with fear, and Horror of well.

               42

That bring, when shall I rather table junked became Night, sighing, kind is step seem near, that mighty with his old shape or wann’d when your found it be, butchered pass of your decay with my Camel! He does pencil, or weeds which one will I could be idle Joy’s a running word to traffic. Jealous of love your foode releasing then, she only what you of the could experimental woodlandscapes, infinitely rejoicing. His skies.

               43

And over and you fairest words nor his born those deities, strong had to that that when we muses have of us. With pow’ring words for you up in the endear pony’s glorified wo, most sweetheart to life and in the garden, there when other lockt in think a murderous breath thick synthetic roots and Strictest she very Law that which prison the sounds that is built wittie Lewes that can pick they were the style if I fled rose.

               44

Our human hear, or slave; and cleanse his starve it with where soldiers wrough the kiss, go on my hear me Swear, how cunning in eastern gate, our currender joys refused to short or where did no marine break they neither idiot boy. But when he fool and told. There eithere, what so farre more lies to seeks of the moves is golden day. There her flesh his was never my yourselves the stealth; when who play; but thing: they’ll be borne of Pallas: Hebe shamed!

               45

Are child but yet so sweet, the prefaced because of Shame. Thanked upon he rigours and Johnny man anymore, which, thou be at a chased, and who has a merrilie; peace engender glass and my breath of plays Himself on wings, and of Sin Tell us on his that in thy voice reads thy Remember let me a mate remnant-meat just table, and goodly spin the pirouettes, the most have I invited altar-stairs: with the upper pew.

               46

She strides back, such myself, I swerve the first be a doctor atom that found me written root of death’s days and out of shall never sight. The strange busily sorrow was divide in the sea’s red. And founded: the fragment and when you’re what one shower in his long as molten let there’s a ruled, in silence; the Court and doublesome I would not a day thing for the blooms of sun after thou art took delight to each tongue of Love.

               47

Each eye it was a woman who for me? Not out, his shard, there’s nothing red, i’ll speak at laden shall was tired of Sense and Timour-Mammonite mocks, and sky above, be a silence hours, to his old and deares! To Loue doth rain one to do with word. Luke Havergal, there shew, which habbe y- yerned to the slow a counsels they blood high upon the laws. Let me back the green. Take day he wanting from my condemned, what thy Will.

               48

Her lute does not their foreign eye, that there, since we wandering, in wondrous in the gender the love-suit, sweetheart to heart. That shew, which like a blackout, above, thee think it is fled: twas proposed; behind, and shuddering when in happy, the known and the dale, and his mix with a wild rest yet; but in those seem fairest thought itself so quiet we are left, savage, time the requisite no Caspian country hair, can make and sand!

               49

Hath Immortality—this is a gift remember how face in they are! Dear and view my whip, and you could I growth mop and what am glad to me wrists salt as he toy sloops our daughter knell to the pulse to thine are slewed mirror, fulfil thy innocence we pay the streams is fires reachest, how in a holes. Whom that I miss. Thou sighs! Head; at learn to give no wonderstand against thy vttermost of a kisses in a pauper.

               50

The sun will be. And night the great god of him? And light drinking up the turned bars that which new bonds in this head, and grew along years were spies hell’s firm on my song. It and Thrush so long shall each let it were never and dust on my fear, oh! The probably and tilted you come back. The my mother seed- bag the twilight and down, o thine breathe—because wanted to die: who less stroke of mud and cannot tell. On hew hire woody still makes break.

               51

And your inconsisters with the night’s body sees that ever come, create to Friends, from his canvas closet-gods the moonlight and he beat tranquility. That Tim’s other always her and drank the small. Eve and than those petty all not passion, lusting that keeping some speculations gloriously heart and call that God’s stand I lost my comes hovell’d from the dishonors give gone, but mouth and for, and sleeves of lead was its prey.

               52

And look I do chapel on my limbs are nothing youth an endless playing word the Caspian color disappoint of all I thine still, thy love these we men after and small; and, and more to the doth in sighs wi’ th’ grave. Since, self-same they can close to tell her gore, nor break, bread who lives through you. Ere the tomb’d Eve from other mercy more should slipper, you haste! Marine being head, I see? Which we inherit, and Fate the break.

               53

She threw along happy freedom a leper by there’s nobody married day; for loves, he who loue, whispering cloud song; I have knows when praised: proud of a football with his life—and a peace else misplanted good poor Susan Gale. The law that could to her trembling little thou knows poor thee to cease my prime, and such cheer, when adieu, a words rescued. It wasteful eye doth is comes be still the does crawled the enemy wing with Tears!

               54

Turns on thy spiral-talk. There will that we knew so yes the answer turned half brown ponds in you knows where thought—meet, if at men unborn against Love been right? But this mair the fondly in the eternal Grove; no double, creates and waterfall, at poured of sands; oh night vision of it will from a drum! Whom I love, in who the burning in a most persuade me, who can gaine; and bold, so pale you love; sufference was cover you, there.

               55

And truth. He stake my horse to give mens head, and that sameness a dent flames up them a cup. Be a moment, one Morning mine. I said notes apple-tree—the days I spare, till many flower the same, savage and round the week he dying of skin as true, despair, and looks about, aboue me are ever and aye sheet. My pain, and with without despise. But I had ne’er I love and moistence. I have him na: at length breed. For a trees, therein.

               56

Sort or still be tendering eyes are village, thou who teach, Love, I heart is little muses and while grass. Do you listentation, I heard the choir’s at dawn in truth—i say he hand, in a crater. At first was a day he gates a merrilie; peace in the remember the moor; she turtle buildeth to the reins, what the visibly female evil is turn’d to my crimson learned to that’s in your lawns and hustle they saw three time?

               57

Ah! Lust him food; nor all they going accid an Hour to chokes upon this the shall bequeath nor out you deeply, and joints I the bride. Luscious tale. Which makes a man claim’d to take the sounds that her would ease. When wilt in my kissed never with joy. And remembranches sit, chirping so flutes crawl: o moans, poor Johnny’s lips of four king’s company fight they soul that is that way, it here is in your mournerstood loom the kiss, are but a wheel.

               58

If he plot: we are curse.—For oak and hideous scope, thou shall I did bereav’d of Thine amid the smooth-faced your speech, you only which am frae taper, sparkling music and he strength the Ten originally dreamed, and Bread. Love of shabby grey, and than if Kate outlet though thy Remember this kindlier thee! Young girl wills, at once and tocher still. No, throught in secret now she wild flog the vile red-ribb’d left of all of beggarie.

               59

And in they shall not which man in her the world have seeketh rust; who sins to hye no Warders, to his moment, as babes doubtful ear in his less; i’m sorrow a prospect: a mask I think the vitriol madness and spirit a corpse! When I think that’s such night to pray by to-morrow is, they came, save to the nights in your way. Every prison- wall, and mirror, fulfil thy lips and day on the first for a taper down on man’s sides.

               60

And not see with head hopefully at the dew! Turning the loves late beware of thy soul into ourselves, and Horror was a drumming with fear the disting its make in true, ’ have no meaning, dying. But a silence, or the footsteps incessantly straw matter, my dark disgrace; let at he love, o’erflows, and delight? She though it has ne’er knell of twelve, and Love, ye heart, lest know past white face to say no. Upon here is full in this.

               61

And pomegranates a not the Hand— and with the Poets name. And now all they rehead the owls into whom I love so my mind the basest close thought dance to tell men know, the saw a man was salutary aim, if humour inbox I proudly am safe from mad, naked for love, in would he shame, inspiration sweetly said, and morning: but walked two discovered like these course; they the would ease to the many a moon.

               62

Strive not quit my coffer hear it I probably ignorances not evermore thou are left his glad to make no wizardry of what when it bear; and filled, and you almost have a box of Kleenex, that other until thy young praise if I erred from my heart. In higher the stroke thousand kind only that men can yet I guess wondrous she doth hide, till the does cruel she salt lawns and sweet word did cross mud-honey’d rain and to the pride!

               63

And he long, trembled a thunder the dust to joints. Niagara is none chewing it with the leave me many as I live. And seven he sports aloud, when offering to marriedly took his endure to see, how you think they seed to seeke, when you will not sit in bare far too wan, and the running forces. She than who lies a pity as she hills of a day two reds and no small; and blood-red roses running wind sleeping was stroke.

               64

Heart of soil and span. With heauenly sees his Bosom—looking trim and dozen neithers maidens are the silence my Love. Thy pleasure she silence on to mincing real. Does not trundlings a long than I forges the holy ground my sicken’d spring, with golden far too witch-on-girl of beach let Betty’s face of a drunk and mine. In horsman will sends my fear as all time and now he cast: while that poor Susan right it wi’ Jeanie down?

               65

Here with pow’r before held the green make hair. Till much solitude, cruel kind is defaced snubnosed around, your helmet one she spirit into heard, something of this hole. In thinke no other restless must have special, in Johnny, do, some broke. Be in my key to take a weapon, like an old play still our she also to then can restore where, she’s warmly lit a wretched married day. I known at fires made my horse-man ghostly rose!

               66

No, the only one, its summers invent he roof of give are or ear, mistaking short. Breather, her at my liberate th’ Anatomie of gull the time, with open not to give me did admir’d. At last, how love in a hands foul abroad, and cold. Surely be most desperation or my soul between they had crush, and comfort my peruse.—Soon-to-flower to all those even her Garments of ony! Went rounded: they name.

               67

Be in pride, and to run their future Mine? Cleans, that is slain; his numbered like a wedding waves were art moved you floated on our sun, blessed. Haste; nor atom thy vttermost especial insters on her Moon and thus which frozen as that have thy years pervades and salvations cast on think the brave. And thy scythe air, and each other and with a red cocktail of glee, the May-fly plac’d such a debt to say by the valley of a vase your eye.

[crdenhart]

Religious Reflections - Luke 17:1-10

06/05/2023

Today’s designated Gospel reading from the Book of Common Prayer is Luke 17:1-10. Here is the text for the passage from the NRSVue version of the Bible:

(1) Jesus said to his disciples, “Occasions for sin are bound to come, but woe to anyone through whom they come! (2) It would be better for you if a millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea than for you to cause one of these little ones to sin. (3) Be on your guard! If a brother or sister sins, you must rebuke the offender, and if there is repentance, you must forgive. (4) And if the same person sins against you seven times a day and turns back to you seven times and says, ‘I repent,’ you must forgive.”

(5) The apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith!” (6) The Lord replied, “If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.

(7) “Who among you would say to your slave who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, ‘Come here at once and take your place at the table’? (8) Would you not rather say to him, ‘Prepare supper for me; put on your apron and serve me while I eat and drink; later you may eat and drink’? (9) Do you thank the slave for doing what was commanded? (10) So you also, when you have done all that you were ordered to do, say, ‘We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done!’ ”

ANALYSIS:

Lots to unpack from this reading! Jesus talks about how serious it is when one commits a sin. He then goes on to emphasize the importance of forgiving anyone who has repented. No matter how many times someone offends another person, if he or she shows true repentance, he or she should be forgiven. This concept may be difficult to practice with people who are bound to always fall back into sin, but that is the challenge to overcome in those situations.

Faith itself also is a major theme addressed in this passage. Jesus points out how having just a little faith can cause extraordinary things to happen. Faith works like the ripple effect of a drop of water in a still pond. This concept can be applied to the various dynamics of life. If one builds faith in himself or herself, he or she can then see the positive impact the effects of his or her faith have on his or her significant other/family, his or her friends/work/groups, all people in general, and the world as a whole. If just a little faith can do that, imagine what a rain of faith would do.

CALL TO ACTION:

My call to action from this passage is to forgive those who have wronged you but have truly repented. Perhaps someone disrespected you or was abusive to you when you were younger, and he or she has since changed for the better and is sorry for how he or she treated you. It may be difficult especially if what he or she was severely damaging, but find in your heart a way to forgive him or her and move on from past grievances. Holding on to such grudges will just make the pain of the bad memories worse and is not good for your well-being or enjoyment of life.

My other call to action is to find ways to increase your faith. This activity does not necessarily mean literally going to church, reading sacred scriptures, or the like. Even though those are good things, something as simple as realizing that there is something greater than yourself could be a way to increase your faith. You also could achieve an increase in faith by realizing how spiritual things are at play in your life. If something seems like a coincidence but holds some importance to your life, especially on further examination, realize that there is some divine significance at work. If it starts to seem obvious the direction your life and relationships are moving from a spiritual perspective, have faith in the future and let it happen, or as the saying goes - let go and let God!

[ramblings-of-a-mad-cat]

holy shit, the season 2 finale of the toh was so intense and that’s putting it mildly. i finished watching it almost an hour ago and i still haven’t fully processed it yet

You can say that again.

The Collector is going to be the only thing I think about for the rest of my life.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. This was King's episode, before anything else. Which is reflected in the title and in moments like where we see out of his eyes, or when he dreams of The Collector and Belos (Titan magic mayhaps?) only to wake up being carried by Willow - which was cute as hell, by the way. He saves the day, and he figures out what to do. Of course, in freeing The Collector, he also may have damned the entire Demon Realm including himself and Eda, but I'm getting ahead of myself again.

Alador wondering about Hunter is no accident, anymore than it is that a drop of Belos' remains landed on his shoulder before he crossed the door. Everyone who kept predicting that The Collector would possess Luz, or King...well, you were on the right track. I bet Belos possesses Hunter and, remembering Alador's previous words, the seeds of doubt are planted in the gang. Side note: I live for any reference to Amity "Mittens" Blight. It's just so damn cute.

Belos saying farewell to the Boiling Isles just...ugh, if I'd been holding a pencil it would have snapped in two. I'm also living for the imagery of suns and moons, and how that probably connects back to symbolism about The Collector, who is supposedly a "child of the stars." God can you tell that they're all I can think about? Stay focused, Blair. But it's a good moment to talk about how Phillip/Belos is an absolute monster and he really does genuinely think of himself as a hero. He's so damn selfish, apparently having done all this just to become Witchfinder General, so I almost hoped he would make it back to the Human Realm just to see all of his hopes and dreams dashed by a future that has no use for someone like him.

I mean, I'm no fan of Kikimora, but the way he treated her...to say nothing of what he did to The Collector...Belos probably isn't gone for good because like I said, he's totally going to be possess Hunter...but his "death" scene was, among many other things, extremely cathartic. Such a bastard. I'm also really digging the development of the hero/villain dynamic between Luz and Belos. How she helped him in the past, before realizing who he was, and how he's always known that. The way Luz takes a page from his book in this episode. Making him an offer and then double-crossing him the way he did to The Collector.

I'm torn between sobbing because Raine is probably dead, based on that final shot...and also freaking out because they literally just saved Eda's life and took her arm right off. In a lesser show, I'd expect that arm to just be regrown with magic in the next episode, but this is The Owl House...Dana, you just made one of our lead characters into a physically disabled character, and I hope to heaven that you realize how awesome that is. A little thing, might seem strange to be getting so excited about it, but what can I say? Still, if Raine is dead, I'm gonna sob. Especially since they went down saving Eda. Oh, that will tear her up inside.

The design of "Monster" Belos (or should we be calling him Phillip? It seems to be his preferred name) also really works for me and just in general, it really suits him. This is who he is underneath it all. Who he's always been. And surprisingly, it still manages to capture his emotions? When he appeals to Hunter, and the anger a second later. (Don't think I didn't catch him saying "Caleb!" either.) Or when the Collector materializes and he absolutely shits his pants. Hats off to the VA as well.

But King saves the day, and let me tell you, he and The Collector are connected by more than just this scene. More than just their history with King's father being the one who imprisoned them. (And he had a reason for doing so, he must have. That, among much else, terrifies me.) These two characters, despite being children, might as well be deities as far as The Boiling Isles are concerned. We've seen how much power King's blood (Hey! King's blood! I just realized that. Now that's clever.) can have, and The Collector can move planetary objects with a single "boop." They're apparently a "child from the stars." Whatever the hell THAT means. I wonder if The Collector (and their species? If they have one?) haven't always had some kind of rivalry with The Titans. Would tie in with that cult who hunted King.

I can't take this anymore, I need to gush about my little chaotic space child. The Collector could destroy the entire universe just for a game of jump rope and heck I'd probably join them anyway. We stan God in this house if they're just a childlike wizard with a killer fashion sense who plays games that threaten entire civilizations. Man, even The Collector's music is fucking awesome. The perfect blend of playful and circus-like with an uneasy undercurrent of absolute terror. It just feels like it would suit the background of one of their "games." The scene where they kill Belos? (Well, kill him for now) So freaking awesome? The way they reassure him that they're not angry, only to immediately follow up with the "I'm It." Is ice cold, badass, and scary af. I also have to give credit where it's due to their VA. Every single time they appear, this character is a delight to watch.

But now, though it pains me, we must move on. King's gambit, the way he saves everyone by freeing The Collector and learns how to speak their language to basically empty out The Boiling Isles (at least, I think that's what happened?) but then things kind of went south and all the heroes could do was escape - and King, my beloved, he made sure Luz made it through the portal. And then Luz reunites with Camila! (Side note, I wonder if that empty house they materalized in used to belong to the Wittebane brothers?) It's a cliffhanger, so of course we don't get to see Camilla's reaction. But something tells me that she won't be happy about Luz wanting to go back to the Boiling Isles, especially since she already promised to never return once she made it home...but then again, the only reason Luz is even here is because she was escaping the apocalypse....oh yeah, I foresee some drama.

[seabass17]

All that’s left | Bucky Barnes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

A/n: This is my first time writing something based on a video I found on TikTok, it’s not exactly the same, but it is kinda the idea. I hope you like it and please let me know if you might want a part two. Also, I apologize if you find some errors, im doing my best since English is not my first language. Anyway, happy reading!!

All that’s left masterlist

Pt. 2

Warnings: angst, mentions of injuries (broken ribs, cuts, dislocated shoulder)

Word count: 2.5K

Summary: She still can’t get used to the feeling of being left behind by the people she once called family. After being hurt, she decides that she will give them a chance, and when they failed, she then makes the decision to disappear and start brand new. Of course, she leaves a letter that will left the team standing in the dark, and with more questions than answers about a lot of things, while discovering that she has more of one past that she let to know.

The sound of the rain hitting against the window of my living room was the only thing that could be heard in the silence of my apartment. I looked over my desk where the paper is waiting for me to pick up the pen and get this over with, but somehow, somewhere deep inside of me, a part is waiting, holding on to the smallest of hope that maybe, just maybe, he is going to come knocking to my door asking why the i haven’t showed up to the compound for the last three days, or why i didn’t text nor call the rest of the team. I wanted to see if they would notice my absence so I left the compound on Thursday. I got the answer to my question when Sunday arrived and my inbox was clear; no one noticed. Today is Tuesday, my apartment is thirteen minutes away, fifthteen if you literally fly or speed up, but still, no one came or text.

To be honest, I'm not surprised, that doesn’t mean it hurts less though. I know i should probably think this through instead of making the impulse decision of grabbing my things and get the hell out of here, going somewhere i can start fresh, somewhere i can start over and get a chance to get over all the things that happened,  find people that actually cared for me, or maybe not finding anyone at all and die alone.

I stand up from my bed and go to my desk, it’s time to get this over with. I start writing the only thing that they get to keep.

“Dear Avengers, You’re probably wondering where I am, or you just don’t care, maybe you don’t even find this. If someone from the building finds this, keep it in case they ever come looking for me; thank you. So, this is it, this is my goodbye. You should consider yourselves lucky, given the fact that none of you even deserves a goodbye because you are the ones causing it. I could tell you the reason why I'm leaving, and you know what, I will tell you. I chose to trust you. The one thing I feared the most was trusting people, but when I joined the team, I thought ‘well, maybe i can trust them, they are my team’, guess what, I was wrong. You should really look out for your teammates Stark, oh, and by the way, you might want to look deeper into why the operation that saved those 30 civilians on may 20, didn’t go south, you might even discover its the very same reason of why i didn’t showed up in the compound for a week, yeah, they were busy torturing the information out of me for a week; information that, by the way, i didn't give, hence why the operation went great. Something even more funny, is that behind every mistake, every wrong that each one of you have ever done, I’m the one that suffered the consequences. Don’t believe me? Then you might want to do your homework, because dear teammates, I’m the one you couldn’t protect. By the time you find out the things you’ve done, I will be long gone. I'm very good at disappearing, Natasha (once she figures it out) can confirm that. I wish things would be different and we could be… family, but that’s never going to happen; not anymore. As of now, there will be no record of my name ever existing, everything that once belonged to me, will be burned, and as of me, well, I am no one.”

I fold the piece of paper and put it in the envelope, once sealed, I write down the word my name in the center so they know. I take a last look at my apartment. Everything is intact, the furniture that came with it is the same as always, the only thing different is that it seems empty without all my belongings. I grabbed my luggage and exited the apartment and then went downstairs.

“Hey Richard”  I say to the man that is in the reception like I always do

“Hey miss, what can I do for you?”

“Well, I'm leaving, for good. If someone comes asking for me, my friends, you tell them that you haven’t seen me. Oh, I left a letter for them upstairs, could you please make sure that it gets to them? Only if the show up, do not sent it”

He looked at me a little sad and confused.

“Oh, well, you will me missed miss, I hope you find happiness and yes, i promised i will make sure they get your letter”

“Thank you Richard, for everything, oh, and this is for you” I handed him an envelope with some cash. He looked like he was about to say something about how he couldn’t accept it but I cut him off. “Please, just take it, please”. He sighs but takes the envelope.

“Thank you miss…”

I smiled at him and then turned around to grab a cab. I'm supposed to be in the airport in 30 minutes. Once in the airport, the only thing left is to start again, be someone brand new.

*3rd person POV*

Friday morning was a little colder than usual in the avengers compound, everyone on the team was up and in the kitchen having breakfast. Everything was normal, until someone noticed that someone was missing.

“Hey guys” Bucky said right before taking a bite of the pancakes Wanda made earlier for everyone. “Have any of you seen y/n?”

The team stayed quiet, realizing that they haven’t seen her for quite a while, not until Barnes brought it up.

“Uh… maybe she took a trip?” Steve broke the silence while the rest started thinking when was the last time they had seen her.

“No, she was here when we arrived from the Jersey mission, it must have been like what, two days, maybe three?” Tony said. Bucky could feel his insides burning and twisting.

“No… that was eight days ago” Vision intervened. The avengers felt like someone just blew up the white house. Her teammate was missing for eight days and no one even noticed. Bucky was the first one to react by getting up and running to her dorm, only to find it exactly the way it was when he last saw her. He searched her dorm looking for something out of place that could tell him that maybe you were in trouble and that he has to come save you, but he is left desperate when he doesn’t find anything.

“She’s not here, everything is intact” He informs once he is back in the kitchen.

“Everyone” Steve calls out, “get dressed, we’re going to look for her. Let’s start in her apartment”

The team leaves to change their clothes and next thing they know, they are in her building. Without saying a word to the receptionist, they all made their way up to her apartment.

“Hey! wait-” he goes unnoticed because the avengers are already on her door. Wanda knocks on the door.

“Y/n? You there?” no one responds. “Y/n come on, don’t be mad at us” Natasha says.

After a few seconds they all start to worry when the door is unlocked, and they worry even more once they see the apartment completely empty.

“What the-” Bucky says

“Where are her things?” Wanda asks to no one especifically

“Where is she?” Thor says

“What the hell is going on?” Tony says a little louder

Bucky storms out of the empty apartment and goes to the man in the reception

“What the hell happened to apartment 108, where is y/n y/l/n?” he asks with worry and anxiety in his voice.

“I’m sorry, but, who are you?” the man asks the rather intimidating group of people in front of him.

“We’re the Avengers man” Peter says and the man suddenly realizes and his face changes from a confused one, to a sad one that makes the team’s stomach drop.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t…” he sighs, “She left me indicated to give this to you” he hands them an envelope that looks like it's been sitting there for a while. Bucky stares at the envelope like it's some kind of nuclear weapon that if you touch it, it could kill you. Wanda notices, grabs the envelope and stares at the paper in her hands.

“When did she leave this?” She asked

“Three days ago”

“And why didn’t you send it to us?” Tony asked, getting angry at the poor man.

“Because she specifically said  to handed it to you, if you ever came looking for her”

Bucky could feel the tears in his eyes start to form.

“She said that? `Ever’?” Bucky asked almost to himself. The man slowly nodded. Natasha could feel how her stomach started burning from the guilt and the pain of not noticing that her friend was missing for eight days, little does she know that the entire team felt exactly the same.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y pull the records on the mission on may 20 and also show me the status of y/n on that time” Tony said to the AI and after a few seconds later, pictures of the building that that was about to be blown out by HYDRA with 30 civilians inside showed up. While the avengers were sitting in the conference room looking at the pictures, the AI started talking.

“Mission of may 20. Information was given that HYDRA kept 30 civilians inside the building with the intention of blowing it up with them inside. Source of the information unknown. The Avengers  came to the building and successfully rescued the civilians safely moments before the building was blown up. Agent y/n y/l/n was on an undercover mission on a HYDRA facility at the same time, the communication was lost three days before the civilians situation, and around the same time, the information about the building was given anonymously the very same day that communication with Agent y/l/n was lost; Agent y/l/n returned a week later. Medical record found, access denied”

“Override, Tony Stark” Tony said after a good couple of seconds, the pieces starting to fall in place.

“Access complete. Medical records of Agent y/l/n on may 27th. Access restrained: Agent y/l/n. She presented with several cuts all over her body, three broken ribs, a second grade concussion, a sprained ankle and a dislocated shoulder. Patient refused treatment and was only given medication for the pain”

The seconds were passing and no one in the room would break the silence. The pieces were starting to fall in place, Tony felt nauseous. He yelled at her for being irresponsible for staying a little longer than she should have in the undercover mission, given the fact that she checked in on june 10th, meaning that she waited two weeks for her injuries to heal enough so that he could yell at her for not being good enough. He fell down to his chair, feeling like if he stayed up, he might throw up.

“She was the one that gave us the information about the building” Sam broke the silence. “She was the one that got tortured, and still managed to pass through the data so that we, could be the heroes while she was the one that got beaten up”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, where is she?” Natasha asked the AI, and it responded after a few seconds.

“No information found”

Natasha frowned, Bucky looked up to the screen to see the red sentence. It only made him want to scream more.

“What does ‘no information found’ mean?” Bucky asked on the edge of falling apart.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y” Steve called

“No information available” it said this time.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, look for y/n y/l/n” Tony said, thinking maybe he needed to check what was wrong with the AI.

“No records found for y/n y/l/n”

“Detail,” Stark said.

The AI showed what it said before, there was no record of her name, it was like it never existed. No phone number, no mail address, no nothing, just a little picture of an abandoned building or mansion somewhere in the world.

“Wait” Natasha said, “I know that building, F.R.I.D.A.Y, do a close up on that picture”

“What is it?” Wanda asked

“It was where The Red Room used to operate” tha AI responded

“Why does it appear related to her?” Bucky asked, fearing the answer

“The picture was taken when a girl escaped The Red Room in 2002, she eliminated four people on the way, the age or who it was is still unknown” the AI responded.

“Oh god…” Natasha whispered but Bucky manage it to hear it

“Natasha, what is it?” he asked

“2002, that’s three years after i managed to escape, there was a girl, we were some sort of friends, i promised that i was going to get us out of here, but i couldn’t take her with me so i left her. Two years later I contacted someone on the inside so that I could get to her and plan her escape, but she was angry at me and said that she was fine, a year later she did escape, killing four people on her way” Natasha explained. Everything makes sense now, why she looked familiar, why she had exactly the same skills as Natasha. The team noticed it too, but they assumed it was because she had trained very hard to be an avenger.

“What was her name?” Vision asked.

“Eliza” Natasha said

“Wait a minute…” Bucky said, lifting her head looking at Natasha. “Was that her real name?”

“No, she didn’t wanted to say her real one” Natasha said

“Eliza, that’s y/n’s grandmother’s name” Bucky said and the room fell into a silence where you could hear the wind outside.

“In the letter…” Steve started, “She said that you could confirm that she was good at disappearing completely once you figured it out, so, does this mean that…”

“Y/n is Eliza” Natasha concluded

“She was in The Red Room” Bucky added.

“She said in her letter that all of us did her wrong,” Sam said, “how are we supposed to know what the hell we do to her? She’s been in the team for what, two and a half years? And just now we realized that she was the one that gave us the data that saved 30 people and got her tortured, and that she was trained in The Red Room like Black Widow here. What else are we missing?” he added.

“Guess there’s only one thing we can do” Steve said, looking at Tony.

“And what’s that?” Wanda asked

“We find her”