#the graphics are gorgeous and it's so easy to get lost in that world

[agenderhyde]

you train an AI to mimic your wife, thinking it might learn enough to one day perfectly mimic human emotion

you never consider that, in all the you spend training it, the AI would learn to emulate you

[lilithknoxville]

Could u do a Johnny smut where her nipples are pierced and he gets turned on by it???

Barbells and Bitemarks (Johnny Knoxville x Fem! Reader) (18+!)

Summary: “What - Nipple piercings a turn on for you or somethin’?” You teased, chuckling awkwardly.

“Yes, actually.” His answer made you stop short. Your eyes raked over his face. His eyes were dark, pools of lust swimming in them. The sight alone was enough to make your knees weak, and you let out a breathy laugh.

“Wh-What?” You stammered, making him snicker. His hands, which had fallen down by his sides, came up to your shoulders.

“Do I gotta spell it out for you, doll?” Johnny’s voice dropped a couple of octaves, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smirked, “I’m into girls with piercin’s, and I’m much more into them when they’re on your gorgeous ass.”

Content Warnings: Graphic Smut, 18+, Swearing, Dirty Talk, Johnny is a massive whore here, Oral (Fem Receiving), Mild Dacryphilia, Semi Public Sex, Daddy Kink

Word Count: 4,285

AN: MY FIRST EVER ASK EEEEEEEEE!!!!! I literally wanna kiss this anon on the mouth for giving me this idea /j. Thank you so much for requesting something from me, and my inbox is ABSOLUTELY still open for more requests. I may have forty documents open of smuts but I will absolutely drop them for a request. This is high key the most fun I’ve had writing a story in a while :3 again no beta reader we die like men. Also I’m posting this at 4:00 in the morning so MANNNNNNN I’m tired. Prolly gonna pass out after this LOL. Okay here we gooooooooo! ✨

You huffed out a sigh, resting your head back against the wall you were leaned up against. Jeff’s voice droned on and on, giving information and safety on a stunt that you weren’t thrilled about being a part of. So you had tried to tune Jeff out as much as possible, but his loud and booming voice wasn’t letting you zone out. You kicked a leg over your other one, shifting uncomfortably on your feet. You looked over, seeing Johnny leaned over on the opposite wall from you. You smiled slightly, and an easy smile graced his lips as well. He pushed himself off of the wall, coming over to where you were standing. He dipped his head down, his voice hushed in your ear.

“Well ain’t you the vision of bein’ enthused?” Johnny asked, his lips quirked up in a smile. You snorted out a laugh as you looked up at him.

“I’m not exactly thrilled about being up on your shoulders, Knox. I’m fuckin’ terrified of heights, and you’re not exactly short.” You smiled at him, and he shook his head, laughing.

“I promise I ain’t gonna drop you, doll.” He gave a smile that had your stomach doing somersaults, and you growled uneasily.

“I’m holding you to that.” You wrinkled your nose, a smile on your lips, and he clapped a hand on your shoulder. Jeff’s booming voice caught your attention and you cast your gaze back towards where Jeff was standing.

“Hey lovebirds, you two wanna join our conversation?” Jeff called, and the amount of hoots and hollers from the rest of the cast had you pulling your beanie down to cover your face, “Anyways - Johnny, Bam, Ryan, and (Y/N), you guys are gonna be next up for shooting. We’re going to go ahead with Steve-O, Dave, and Ehren’s stunt.” Jeff looked down at his clipboard, nodding to cement what he had just said, “But stay on deck, I’m thinking this one’ll take about an hour. Go ahead and get changed into different clothes, and be on standby. Your guys’ stunt involves mud, and we’ve still got a whole day of shooting.” Jeff clapped his hands and you were all sent on your separate ways. You headed to the trailer they had set up specifically for you, Johnny on your heels like a lost puppy. Your feelings for Johnny were… confusing, to say the least. On one hand, he was your absolute best friend in the whole wide world; You were nothing but comfortable around him. You both laughed until you cried, leaned on the other for support, and you loved each other fiercely. On the other, you were beyond in love with him. Any laugh he gave at your jokes, any smile cast your way, and anytime he touched you (albeit all of them were innocent) lit you up from the inside out.

You entered the trailer, propping the door open with your foot as you waited for Johnny. You rolled your eyes, chuckling as he stepped into your trailer.

“You gotta follow me everywhere I go like a lovesick puppy?” You teased, watching as Johnny flopped down on the small couch set up in the trailer.

“Hey, I’m makin’ sure no one fucks with you, doll. You know how these boys are.” Johnny shrugged, resting one of his arms on the back of the couch. You rolled your eyes, leaning against the doorframe with your hands behind your back. You kicked one leg over the other, rolling your eyes hard at Johnny’s comment.

“And you act like I’m not scared to beat anyone’s ass.” You snorted out a laugh, pushing off of the wall and going to the small wardrobe that was set up for you. You looked through the clothes, humming. Each outfit was marked with a name of a stunt, and you got to the one for this stunt. It was a sheer, white tank top with jean shorts. You held it up, looking at the outfit with scrutinizing eyes.

“Really?” Johnny barked out a laugh, shaking his head, “I mean - Sex sells, but if we’re sticking our only female cast member in somethin’ like this…” He chuckled again, letting out a puff of air from his nose. There was something unreadable in his eyes, and as you stared at him, trying to figure it out, he looked away, avoiding your eyes, “I dunno what they’re thinkin’.”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” You tore your eyes away from him, rolling them hard. You heaved out a sigh, giving the outfit one last scrutinous glare, “But I don’t think I really have that much of a choice.” You hung the hanger on the back of a chair, your hands coming to your hoodie’s hem. You pulled your hoodie off over your head, but you failed to realize you had grabbed the bottom of your shirt as well. Immediately, you were standing in a sheer, lace bralette in front of Johnny.

Time seemed to freeze as his eyes raked over you - how the bralette pushed your boobs together, the black lace against your skin, and the two barbells pushed through each of your nipples. You yelped and covered your chest with your arm, your face flushing a bright red.

“Shit! I’m fucking sorry!” You cried, moving your arm from over your chest to try and get your shirt out of the hoodie. Your hands trembled as frantic apologies tumbled from your lips, when suddenly Johnny’s hands were covering yours.

You looked up to see him standing in front of you, his face the same shade of red as yours. His face was calm, however, and a smile ghosted over his lips.

“Doll, you ain’t gotta freak out.” His voice was quiet, a murmur, as he helped you pull the shirt out of the hoodie, “But when were you gonna tell me you’ve got piercings?” He asked, a wolfish grin on his lips. You smacked his arm with a hand, your other hand covering your chest with your shirt.

“You’re an ass!” You chuckled, your face still feeling warm, “What - Nipple piercings a turn on for you or somethin’?” You teased, chuckling awkwardly.

“Yes, actually.” His answer made you stop short. Your eyes raked over his face, looking for any sign he was joking, but there was nothing more than a cool smirk on his face. His eyes were dark, pools of lust swimming in them. The sight alone was enough to make your knees weak, and you let out a breathy laugh.

“Wh-What?” You stammered, making him snicker. His hands, which had fallen down by his sides, came up to your shoulders.

“Do I gotta spell it out for you, doll?” Johnny’s voice dropped a couple of octaves, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smirked, “I’m into girls with piercin’s, and I’m much more into them when they’re on your gorgeous ass.”

Your head was absolutely swimming, the thoughts swirling through your head nothing that would be considered safe for work. But Johnny’s voice brought you back down to Earth;

“Now, you gonna let Daddy see my babygirl’s piercin’s?” He purred, his hands tracing circles on your shoulders. You shuddered under his hands, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

He leaned forward, dipping his head down, and captured your lips in a kiss. Immediately, all of the breath was stolen from your lungs, and your hands scrambled to his shoulders. The kiss started off as slow and soft at first, but it slowly progressed to bruising and passionate.

He growled against your lips, something primal flaring in his chest. This wasn't just some casual kiss; this was a decade of suppressed emotions and desires erupting to the surface for the both of you. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you against him firmly, as if he was afraid of you slipping away.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue darting out to tease at the seam of your lips, begging for entrance. You opened your mouth, accepting his tongue to touch around. You were secretly very thankful that he didn’t try and jam his tongue so far down your throat that you gagged. His free hand moved up to cup the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair, holding you captive against him.

Finally, you broke the kiss, gasping for air. Your chest heaved with every breath you took, and your cheeks were flushed a brilliant red. You searched Johnny’s eyes for a moment, a small, breathless giggle leaving your lips. Johnny had the same breathlessness you did, his lips quirking up in a half smile.

“Well, if I didn’t know any better, doll, I’d say you’ve been waitin’ for me to do that for a while.” His voice was barely above a whisper, his hand cradling your face. You looked up at him with humor filled eyes, giggling.

“Good thing you know better, hmm?” You asked, giving him a teasing smile. His smile darkened and before you knew it, he had you up in the air, his arms locked around your waist. You squealed and giggled, as Johnny walked over to the small couch that was in your trailer.

He tossed you on the couch, your back pressed dully into the cushions. He crawled in between your legs, his face ghosting over yours. His breath was stolen from his lungs as he looked down at the goddess laid before him, your cheeks flushed the prettiest salmon. You looked up at him, pupils blown wide with lust and want. It intoxicated him in the best way possible, and it made him want more.

More he got, as your hands snaked around his neck and pulled him back down roughly. Your lips reconnected and Johnny grunted against your lips, his hands going to your hips to raise them up against him. In this new angle, you could feel the hard press of the growing bulge in Johnny’s jeans.

He pulled away from the bruising kiss, his breath fanning heavy over your face. A smile tugged at his lips, his head dipping down to your neck. Hot opened mouth kisses were pressed into your skin, the sharp edges of his teeth pressing gently into your neck. You writhed and whimpered under him, his hands tracing your sides with the softest of touches.

“This okay?” He murmured against your skin as his fingers danced at the hem of your bralette, “Wanna make you feel good.”

“Yeah, ‘m good.” You breathed out, helping him take off your bralette. He threw it into a random corner, his hands shaking as they ghosted over your breasts.

His eyes stayed stationary on the black barbells pushed through either of your nipples. Slowly, as if he was hesitant, his hands came to your breasts, kneading them. You let out a shaky breath, your heart hammering in your chest. His nimble fingers danced over the barbells, and you sucked in a breath through your teeth.

“Yeah? Sensitive, ain’tcha?” He breathed out, his eyes flicking back and forth between your face and your breasts, “My pretty girl.” He breathed out, pressing kisses to the tops of your breasts.

His head dipped lower, his lips attaching to one of your nipples. It was like an electric current was sent through your whole body, the warm feeling of his mouth on the cold barbell made you shoot up. Your back arched, as a shaky wail came from your mouth. Johnny pulled back immediately, his face flashing with concern.

“No, no, no!” You babbled, whining deep in your throat, “Pl-Please.” You begged, your breath coming out in pathetic sounding pants.

“Well, I gotta listen when you’re beggin’ so pretty for me.” Johnny chuckled, dipping his head back down. His mouth went back to your nipple, the warm feeling of his tongue swirling around your nipple making you wail again.

His hand dipped to your jeans, fumbling with the button as he tried to undo it with one hand. A huff of breath left his nose and he pulled off of your breast, focusing his attention on your jeans.

“Fuckin’ - goddamnit.” He cursed under his breath, making you giggle. You gently covered his hands with yours, helping him undo the button on your jeans, and you started to push them off of your hips. He caught the hem of your panties in his blunt nails, practically ripping both of them off of your legs. He threw both pieces of clothing to a random corner of your trailer, pushing your legs open. You tried to close your legs, a flare of embarrassment running hot through your veins, but he was much stronger than you were.

He growled, his lips kissing down your stomach, along your hip bone, tasting the cream of your skin mixed with the salt of sweat. He kissed down along your thigh, stopping just before where you needed it the most. You watched as his cheek pressed into your thigh, as he watched how you dripped and keened.

“Look at you, little one,” Johnny purred, causing you to whimper, your fingers tightening in his hair, “You got this wet just from Daddy playin’ with them sexy piercin’s?” The southern twang in his voice drove you crazy, but the fact that he bit into the soft of your thigh caused you to keen again.

“Jesus, don’t fucking tease me.” You whined, your voice coming out breathless and needy. Johnny nipped at the junction where your thigh met your pelvis, and the feeling made you shudder underneath his hands.

“You ain’t got a single idea how bad I’ve wanted you like this.” His breath fanned hot over your clammy skin, his lips kissing lower and lower until he was right above your clit, “Hearin’ you say my name like it’s the only prayer you’ve known.” He groaned, his tongue darting out and kitten licking across your clit.

His lips attached to your pussy, his tongue exploring every single part of you. You whined, throwing your head back against the couch, as his movements were slow, agonizing in the best way possible. He switched between his tongue thrusting in and out of your dripping pussy and sucking on your clit. You let out a strangled moan as he offered a hard suck of your clit.

“Goddamn, babygirl. You taste just like honey.” He grunted against you, pulling back slightly, and wetting his middle and ring finger with his own saliva, “Could spend the rest of my life right here, face pressed into this fuckin’ pussy.” He murmured, lowering his head again. His lips attached to your clit, his middle finger slowly dipping into your pussy.

You came lighting up off of the couch, wailing out his name as he curled his finger, finding the spongy tissue that had you seeing stars. He chuckled against you, the vibration of his laugh making your heart flip in your chest.

His ministrations were eager, and before you knew it, he was adding the second finger into you. He curled his fingers hard, the pleasure thrumming through your veins hitting an all time high. Your hands came to his hair, your hips rolling against his face.

The coil inside your core started to wind tighter and tighter, as you shamelessly grinded against his face, trying to pull yourself closer to an orgasm. He moaned eagerly against you, clearly enjoying the entire situation himself. Tighter and tighter the coil inside you wound, Johnny’s little grunts and moans against you doing nothing to help the situation.

The coil snapped, your orgasm rattling through your bones - your moans breathless and high pitched - as Johnny drank up all of your slick. Your breaths were heavy and ragged, Johnny’s face still firmly planted between your thighs. The feeling started to border on overstimulating, so you tapped his head three times shakily. Johnny finally pulled his head back, his chin and lips wet.

“Fuckin’ hell, you’re gonna kill me, doll.” He grunted against your hipbone, laughing shakily, “Usin’ my face like your own personal throne, I could get used to that.” He looked up at you with humor filled eyes, crawling back up towards your lips.

You kissed him breathlessly, tasting yourself on his lips and tongue. You moaned shamelessly into his mouth, your hands making quick work of ripping his shirt off of him and pushing his jeans down to his knees. He kicked off his shoes, awkwardly shoving his jeans off of his legs, the denim falling unceremoniously to the floor.

You adjusted on the couch, laying flat on your back horizontally, and Johnny slotted himself between your legs, the thick press of his cock against your weeping slit making you mewl. He fumbled around for a moment, trying to find his jeans.

“I’m on the-” You raised your arm, tapping your bicep, “-thing in arm. Good for three years.” You dropped your arm, your hand running down his chest. “You’re good. I’m clean.”

“You sure?” He asked, his eyes meeting yours, “Can’t promise I’m gonna last long feelin’ this pussy raw.” He admitted, laughing awkwardly.

“I’m sure. No babies.” You pulled his face down to yours, kissing him breathlessly, “Pump me full of cum, Daddy.” You purred.

“Jesus Ch-“ He let out a strangled grunt, resting his forehead against yours. His breath fanned hot against your face, his breath shaky, “You tryna give an old man a heart attack?” He asked, his voice shaking. He opened his eyes, silently asking if it was okay again. You nodded, and he slowly started to push into you.

The feeling of his thick cock stretching you out made you wail into his shoulder, your blunt nails digging into his shoulders. Slowly, agonizingly, he pushed in until he bottomed out. His breath was catching in his throat, his arm twitching as he gripped onto the back of the couch for dear life.

“Fuckin’ hell, babygirl.” He grunted out, letting out a trembling exhale of breath, “Pussy’s like a goddamned vice around me.” He spoke through gritted teeth, staying still to let you get used to the feeling of him inside you.

It was a silent couple of seconds before your muscles started to relax and he was able to start thrusting shallowly in and out of you. You whimpered and keened underneath him, and he hadn’t even gotten started yet.

“Harder…” You whispered, your voice begging helplessly, “Daddy, please.”

“Anything my babygirl wants.” Johnny whispered back to you, his hands moving to wrap around your neck, pulling himself impossibly closer to you. His hips slowly sped up, the pace rough but not brutal. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath heavy in your ear.

“Shit, Johnny.” You sucked in a breath through your teeth, whimpering in his ear as he set a steady pace. His hipbones smacked against your ass, causing a dull pain that only accentuated the pleasure.

It was a few moments of this steady pace before Johnny suddenly pulled back from where he was buried in your neck. You looked up at him with dazed eyes, confusion etching into your features. He shuddered out a breath as he met your eyes, a shaky smile crossing his face.

His hands shoved your thighs back, pushing your knees almost to your chest. In this angle, you could feel every inch of his cock as he pounded into you. You threw your head back, wailing out a mix of his name and a guttural scream. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you threw your head back against the small couch.

“Yeah, that’s it, my sweet girl.” He grunted through gritted teeth, his breath coming out in bursts, “You take Daddy’s cock so fucking well. This goddamned pussy was made for this cock - Fuck!” He snarled, his hips speeding up. All you could do was hold on for dear life, your mind swimming with nothing but him and how fucking good this felt.

His hands came to your breasts, his fingers tweaking one of the barbells. Between his nimble fingers on your nipples sending waves of heat to your core, and him making a complete mess of your pussy, you felt yourself coming undone at the seams. The familiar coil in your core was winding tighter and tighter by the second, and the tears that pricked at the corners of your eyes fell down your face. The pleasure was starting to border on the perfect blend of amazing and almost cruel. You met his eyes, your vision blurry from the tears, and you could see he had a wolfish grin on his lips.

“Yeah, that’s it. Cry over how fucking good this cock is.” He snarled, dipping his head down to your neck and leaving hot opened mouth kisses against your skin, “Could fucking live in this pussy, babygirl, Jesus Christ-!” His thrusts were getting sloppy, and you wailed out his name again, the coil suddenly snapping in your core. Your eyes rolled back in your head as your body trembled, your pussy fluttering around him. Your body felt taut, as your orgasm rippled through your bones.

“Oh fuck, babygirl-“ He grunted out, his thrusts brutal and rapid, “Just like that… Daddy’s gonna fucking cum all in this pussy.” He growled in your ear, and all you could do was hold on for dear life.

A couple seconds later, he stilled, letting out a moan that would make a pornstar blush. His cock twitched and pulsed inside of you as thick, hot ropes of cum filled you. You writhed, still trying to come down from your high.

It was a silent couple of seconds as the two of you remembered how to breathe, and you were the first to make any form of a sound. You chuckled breathlessly, meeting Johnny’s eyes.

“Well, remind me to accidentally strip in front of you more often.” You panted out, bringing your arms up and pulling Johnny into a kiss. His hands cradled the back of your head, holding your lips to his. He broke the kiss, laughing softly against your lips.

“Ain’t gotta be accidental no more, doll.” He pressed kiss after kiss to your lips, “You got me hooked around your lil’ finger.” He smiled down at you, before the sound of someone banging on the door made you both jump. You swore under your breath, your heart racing.

“Ye-Yeah?” You called, putting a finger to Johnny’s lip to shush him.

“Hey, are you two done fucking already? Your guys’ stunt is about to start.” Ehren’s voice, which had the edge of awkwardness to it, rang out through the door and it took everything in you to not want to melt into the floor from embarrassment.

“Why, you wanna join?” Johnny called and you smacked his arm, his loud cackle of a laugh making you roll your eyes.

“Gross! Fuck no!” Ehren’s voice was high pitched, and you could almost see him cringing, “Fucking hell, Knox. Just get dressed and get your guys’ asses out here. Jeff’s pissed.” Ehren walked away from the door, and you could hear his soft muttering as he walked away. You snorted out a laugh, cringing as Johnny pulled out of you. He grabbed a couple of tissues from a table nearby, getting you as cleaned up as possible.

“Well, I’m gonna have my own cum running down my neck.” He joked, and you groaned.

“Ew! Johnny!” You whined, and he barked out a laugh.

“What? I’m right!” He had a twinkle in his eye, helping you get up from the couch. Your hair was a mess, and your neck was covered with all sorts of love bites, “I ain’t the one who decided you were gonna wear shorts that barely cover your ass while you’re up on my damn shoulders!” He helped you get dressed, putting on his own clothes quickly afterwards.

“So…” You trailed off, letting him run a brush through your hair. You smiled at the odd intimacy of the action, and he hummed, a question of ‘Go on?’, “When’s round two?” You asked, the question hanging thickly in the air.

“Let’s win this stupid chicken fight ‘tween Bam and Ryan, and maybe then we’ll talk.” He chuckled darkly in your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “Don’t worry, babygirl. I’ll have you walkin’ funny sooner rather than later.” He growled in your ear, sending a rush through you. He patted your butt, shaking his head, “But come on. Before the Almighty Tremaine slits our damn throats for fuckin’ up his perfect lil’ schedule.”

You exited your trailer, and if it wasn’t for the love bites on your neck and the flush that covered your cheeks, you were sure no one would have pegged you for having just had sex with Johnny. You, of course, would have been wrong.

“How big’s his cock, (Y/N)?” Bam all but screamed at you when you and Johnny made it to the set, and you bristled for a moment, “Come on, everyone heard you screamin’ his name!”

“Jealous, are we?” Johnny asked, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, “Too bad she ain’t gonna ever scream your name, Bambi.”

You chuckled, trying to pull your beanie down to hide your face in embarrassment. But as you looked up at Johnny, who was harassing Bam about being jealous still, that weird love you had for Johnny settled in your stomach again. But those were feelings for another day. You had more pressing matters, namely throwing Bam and Ryan off of a wooden beam so you could get round two.

You had a pretty good feeling you’d be getting what you wanted, regardless of what Johnny had said.

[viking-raider]

LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT > PART THREE

Summary-> Alexa and Henry leave their villa to explore the beauty of Costa Rica, with an unblinking eye trailing behind them.

Pairing-> Henry Cavill/OFC (Alexa)

Word Count-> 5.7k

Parts-> I II

Warnings-> PG: Arranged Marriage, Language, Banter, Anxiety

Inspiration-> Nick and Vanessa Lachey’s Love is Blind on Netflix.

Author’s Note-> I hope you enjoy! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

-> If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST as well as my @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’ Ao3-> Dragon_Dweller

– The Hike –

Alexa pulled her loose cotton, deep arm-hole tank top over her bikini, while Henry packed a day bag for them to take on their hike.

“Right, we're all packed.” He smiled, coming to stand in the bathroom doorway. “Figured we could stop in town for some lunch items, and if we need anything else before we head to the start of the trail.” He informed her, watching her tug on a pair of short, board shorts with a print pattern on each hip, over her bikini bottoms.

“I love the sound of that. We can also browse the local life.” Alexa smiled, a tingle in her stomach knowing Henry was distracted by seeing so much of her body.

“That sounds like a great idea.”

“Great.” She nodded, patting him on the chest as she breezed by him, into the bedroom; mentally reminding herself not to look at the camera that was there filming the whole thing.

With their little hiking bag packed and a rental car for them waiting in the drive, Henry and Alexa loaded up. Jesse followed them from a car in the back, having mounted a couple cameras in ideal places on the rental car to film them.

“Wow, this place is so gorgeous.” Henry commented, looking out the window as he drove them into town.

“Just wait until we hit the trails.” Alexa smiled, lounging back in the passenger seat. “It's a whole other world. It feels like you've been lost in some 18th Century adventure book; deep in the forest as you look for the coveted and cured gold of an ancient God, that the natives warn you not to go near.”

Henry looked over at her, smirking. “Bookworm?” He chuckled, teasingly.

“The word is, Bibliophile.” She corrected him, with feigned offense. “Thank you very much.”

“Oh, my apologies, Bibliophile.” He laughed, amused. “But, I can see it, this place does give you an enchanted feeling.” He sighed, as the town of Tamarindo came into view.

Tamarindo bustled with life, an assortment of shops, brightly colored and close together, showed their wares in windows, balconies and sidewalks. Signs announcing what each shop and pop-up cart was selling to whomever stopped by to look, from fellow tourists to locals.

Henry found a place to park and got out with Alexa, the both of them casting their eyes around, taking everything in and trying to pinpoint the place, or places, that would help them achieve their goal for a picnic on their hike.

“Something smells amazing.” Alexa commented, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes.

“Could be anything.” Henry chuckled, noting the several street vendors and restaurants.

“I need it.” Alexa said softly, her blue eyes slightly out of focus.

Henry looked down at her, cocking a brow at the almost manic look she had on her face. “Do you?” He asked, a soft smirk tugging up one corner of his lip.

“Yes.” She nodded, looking up at him with an eye twitch.

“You little gremlin.” Henry laughed, his whole body vibrating with its mirth.

“You best get used to it, Bowser.” She giggled back, before skipping forward in search of what she smelled.

Henry watched her skip off, his head cocked to the side as she paused at a stall with trinkets displayed on it, giving the woman running it a sweet smile as she did. He felt the embers of passion for her heat up even more, forming a teeny flame that Henry couldn't deny was the start of him really falling for her. Recalling himself, as Alexa looked back to see where he was, Henry moved to join her, nodding to the vendor.

“Hola, cómo estás?” She greeted him with a sweet smile.

“Hola, estoy bien.” Henry echoed with the limited amount of the language he knew, making her chuckle at his accented Spanish.

“These are so beautiful.” Alexa cooed, examining a black skirt with bright and colorful, intricate patterns along the bottom hem and inside. She looked up at the woman, holding up the hem for her to see. “You?” She asked, hoping the other woman understood what she was implying with her minimal knowledge of Spanish.

The woman smiled wide, understanding, and nodded with clear pride. “Sí.”

“How much?” She asked, brows raised.

“Treinta colón.” She answered, signing three and zero with her fingers in emphasis.

Nodding, Alexa dug into the little bag she had resting on her hip, retrieving the colónes that Riah had supplied her and Henry before leaving the house, supplying the woman the right amount of money for the skirt she had handmade herself. Taking the curled notes from Alexa's hand, she stashed them away in a locked box somewhere behind her stall, before motioning to Alexa to pick one of the skirts. Alexa peeked through them, admiring her craft and amazing needlework with the fabric. None of it lacked color and all of the patterns were unique in their own right, fascinating and awing her.

“What do you think?” Alexa asked, looking up at Henry for his opinion between the two skirts she was conflicted on.

“Hm.” He hummed, looking between them with a cocked brow. “They're both very beautiful.” He commented, reaching out to touch the cotton fabric. “Personally,” He said, finally. “I like this one. It's super colorful and seems like it would be...light and free. It makes me think of you.”

Alexa blushed, biting the inside of her lip at his comment, as she looked up at him, before looking down at the skirt he was referencing. It was red with a kaleidoscope of circular patterns, and blue top and bottom hems. Smiling, she picked that one out of the bunch, motioning to the woman that she had made her choice, and she nodded her understanding. Alexa and Henry moved on, observing the other stalls that lined the street and peeked in the windows of the shops, before they finally found the local grocery store and popped inside.

Grabbing one of little metal baskets, Henry and Alexa browsed the modest aisles, plucking up a couple things that caught their eye for their picnic. Something else grabbed Henry's attention as they reached the back of the store.

“Hey, I'll just be one second.” He said, resting his hand on the small of her back. “I'll meet you at the register.”

“Okay.” Alexa nodded, holding his gaze for a moment, before continuing on, grabbing a couple more things off the shelf, before she headed to pay for everything, tossing a glance over her shoulder to look for Henry, but only found Jesse following her instead.

But Henry appeared as she bagged their items, offering her an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I just wanted to check something out.” He told her, grabbing a few items and helping her put them in the plastic bag. “I'm looking forward to this hike with you.” He admitted, taking the bag and heading out with her. “Part of me wishes this was happening around the time the Durrell Challenge occurs.”

“When does that happen?” Alexa asked, curiously.

“It happened in May.” He told her, holding an arm out to stop her from crossing, as a car appeared up the street. “So, we missed it.”

“There's always next time.” She replied, watching the car go by. “Not like we won't be together.”

Henry looked down at her, struck. “That's more than true.” He answered softly, crossing and following her along the street, observing the shops as they made their way back to their vehicle. “So, wife, where is our trail?” He asked, reaching into the back, for the pack he had their stuff in and tucked their lunch inside.

“Right here.” Alexa answered, leaning over the center console to show Henry the map of the trail head. “It's part of the Rincon de la Vieja Volcano National Park.”

“Looks beautiful.” He commented, getting the address for the trail head and situating his phone on the dash mount. “So, our first day as husband and wife!” He grinned, navigating the road that ran parallel to the coast on one side.

“Yeah.” Alexa giggled, taking a photo of the gorgeous white sand and glittering, azure water. “How's it feeling?” She asked, shifting her camera's view to snap a shot of Henry, catching him off guard.

“It feels good.” Henry replied, giving her a shy and boy-ish expression. “It was a bit strange waking up to another person, and not either alone or to Kal snoring in my face.”

A laugh bubbled out of Alexa, her body scrunching up. “No, you just had me snoring in your face this morning.”

“Well worth the morning breath!” Henry chuckled back, teasing, watching the coast fall away the more inland they got.

“I don't have morning breath!” Alexa gasped, shoving him in the shoulder.

“Are you sure about that?” He smirked impishly, cocking a side brow over at her.

Alexa gasped again in outrage, mouth ajar. “Uh! How dare you accuse me of such things! I'll glue the toilet lid down from now on!”

“That's fine.” Henry replied, his smirking shifting into something even more devilish. “I have great aim.”

Alexa's cheeks colored, understanding his suggestion. “Naughty!” She cooed, batting her eyes at him, before glancing quickly over at the recording camera on the dash.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot!” Alexa nodded, twisting sideways to look at him.

“Do you have any nicknames you do or don't like going by?” Henry inquired, rubbing his palms over the steering wheel. “I don't mind being called Hen, Henners or Hank, but I loathe being called Harry.”

“Who calls you that!” She asked, outraged at the notion of someone calling him by that name, eyes twitching.

“I had a teacher at boarding school that did and sometimes, one of my uncles would.” He explained, shaking his head. “No matter how many times I told them I hated it and asked them not to.”

“I don't blame you! You don't have a Harry aura about you. Hen, yes. Hank yeah. But-” She took a deep breath and let it out in a huff. “Good grief. As for me, most of the people in my social circle call me, Alex or Lexi, which I'm totally cool with. There are people that call me, Lex, which I'm not really here nor there about. However, I don't like being called, Allie, it makes me think of alleyways, or one of my roadies desperately tried to make a thing of calling me, Lexus.”

She met Henry's eye. “I'm not a car.”

Henry snorted, laughing softly. “A car, you are not.” He agreed, smiling. “So, Alex, Lex or Lexi are cool to call you.”

“Yep.” Alexa nodded, liking the sound of her name rolling off his tongue, as she noticed the sign announcing the turn off for the National park just around the bend. “Almost there!” She declared, rather excited to go exploring and hiking on the trails with Henry. “This place is so beautiful.” She commented, as they got out of the car, the warmth of the beach was replaced by the cool, but humid, air of the forest around them.

“Yeah, it is.” Henry agreed, clipping their bag secure across his chest.

But not as beautiful as you. He thought, fleetingly.

“Are you going to be able to hike this, carrying that camera?” Henry asked Jesse, who was getting his own gear set up. “According to that park sign, the trail is seven kilometers in length. One way.” He informed the cameraman, concerned for his well-being as much as he was Alexa and his own.

“I'll be fine, bud.” Jesse replied, shouldering a bag that rattled with various filming equipment and a couple of things he brought for the hike, water bottle, food, bug spray and so on. “I've done wildlife documentaries in Antarctica. I'm sure a four mile hike around the volcano will be cake.”

“Making sure.” Henry said, before turning to Alexa, who was patiently waiting at the trailhead. “You ready, short-stuff?” He asked with a smile.

Alexa snorted and rolled her eyes. “More ready than you are, Bones.” She answered, then held up a trail guide pamphlet. “I scanned the QR code they have on the back, but just in case our mobile service goes nutty, I thought we'd bring the booklet with us too.”

“Sound idea, love.” He nodded, gave the trail ahead a look over.

She leaned in close to Henry, before whispering loudly. “If there's any spiders, I'm leaving Jesse to get eaten first.”

“I heard that!” Jesse barked behind them.

Alexa flashed him a sweet smile, then took the first step onto the trail. One small step on our hike, one giant step into the rest of our life. She thought, continuing with the assurance that Henry was right behind her.

“A bridge!” Henry announced as he rounded a bend in the trail, coming upon a rope bridge, just wide enough for one person to cross at a time, single file. “You think it's sturdy?”

“It looks like it.” Alexa answered, looking around Henry's arm. “I'm sure they wouldn't have it accessible if it was dangerous. Unless they have a thing for making their visitors feel like they're having an Indiana Jones experience.” She commented, half-jokingly.

“Fair enough, you go ahead first.” He said, stepping sideways on the trail.

“Oh, how gentlemanly of you, to let me plummet to the river below first.” Alexa quipped, moving by him, only to have Henry catch her wrist, his expression stony.

“Don't say that.” He snapped, his eyes glassy with horror.

Alexa's stomach churned at his expression, leaving her speechless for a moment, before she caught Jesse moving closer to them out of the corner of her eye and she scrambled to pull herself together again. “I was just kidding, Henry. I'm sorry.” She squeaked, gulping thickly as she pried his fingers from around her wrist and stepped onto the bridge.

That was so stupid! Why did I say that to him! She berated herself. Riah's going to juice her panties when she finds out. With how good it'll look, when the show airs. Stupid me creating an angst-y fuss, like some teenage drama.

The bridge wobbled a little bit as the three of them moved across the weathered slates at a steady pace, Alexa gripping the rope sides and daring to take a glance over the side, before quietly squeaking at the steep distance to the valley bottom and shooting her eyes forward, not looking down again. Henry's own eyes were on the back of Alexa's head, the whole time they crossed, taking slow, deep breaths and pretending the bridge wasn't as high off the ground as it actually was. In an attempt to control his fear of heights.

“Right, so!” Alexa sighed, after their feet touched solid ground again. “According to the app, the hot spring is this way and it's just before the waterfall.” She said, tracing the red line on the screen of her phone with her fingertip. “Do you want to see the waterfall first or do you want to hit the spring?” She asked, looking up at Henry, who craned his head over her shoulder to see the map, his hand gently resting on her side.

“Hm.” He hummed, eyeing the outlined trail, before looking up ahead of them. “Why don't we hit the waterfall first and have lunch there, so we can have a nice dip in the spring before we leave?” He suggested, looking back to Alexa. “That way we can have a nice rest period.”

“Sounds like a good plan.” Alexa nodded, pocketing the device and hooking her arm with his. “It's so gorgeous here.” She said, looking at the tall canopies above their heads, her ears picking up the sounds of the forest surrounding them. The call of birds, frogs croaking deep in their throats and insects buzzing in the humid air, with the occasional howl of a monkey deep and far off the beaten trail.

“It really is.” Henry agreed, drawing in a deep breath of the fresh, fragrant and cool air.

They pointed out sights to each other, plants and animals. Alexa became excited at one point, thinking she saw a little squirrel monkey, before it vanished in the trees. They snapped a couple of photos over the hour and a half it took them to go from the head of the trail to the rushing waterfall at the end.

“Oh my—Odin.” Alexa gasped softly, standing on a large, flat river rock as she gazed up at the fifty foot waterfall, the spraying mist at the top glittering in the sunlight, casting a rainbow-like halo at its drop off point. “I've never seen anything quite so magical.” She mumbled to herself, following the water into a basin of crystal clear water, surrounded by rough cliff walls covered in creeping vines and moss, slick algae and small trees that somehow managed to take root and grow out of cracks.

There were a couple of people around the edge of the pool, resting on rocks or clear, flat spots of the ground, with several others swimming in the water itself. Both Alexa and Henry looked at each other, then tossed at glance at Jesse, who hadn't stopped filming once, knowing they would attract attention the moment they got close. So, they moved around to the far side of the waterfall, where there were no people and found a decent spot to sit down and relax.

Henry set his pack down in front of him, unhooking his water bottle from the loop on the strap, while Alexa sipped at her own water, staring out over the pool with a whimsical and thoughtful expression.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked, before taking a big gulp of his icy water.

“Hm?” Alexa hummed back, blinking and turning her attention to him.

Henry chuckled at her. “What are you thinking about?” He repeated himself, unzipping the main compartment of the bag.

“I'm wondering how cool that water must be.” She confessed, her face giving away her interest in going for a dip.

“Hmm.” He purred back, narrowing his eyes at the water and considering the sweat running down his back, causing his tank top to stick to his skin as well as his curls to his forehead. “That's a good question.” He replied, closing the backpack and reaching for the back of his tank, pulling it off over his head and dropping it on the bag, before standing.

“Let's go find out.”

Alexa grinned, taking off her top and stood to wiggle out of her shorts, kicking them over to their bag as Henry's arm hooked around her waist. “Henry!” She cried out with laughter, breaking out into a massive grin as he carried her over to the water.

“You can go in with your insulin stuff, right?” He asked, as the water reached his calves.

“Yeah.” She assured him, squirming and wrapping her arms around his neck. “All water-proof.”

“Perfect.” Henry smirked devilishly, shifting his hands to Alexa's hips, hoisted her up and launched her into the deep end of the water.

Alexa gasped as she splashed into the water, disappearing under for a moment, before she pushed off the bottom and broke the surface again. “That's unfair!” She huffed, splashing Henry in the face as he moved towards her.

“Absolutely.” He nodded, carding his fingers through his dripping hair, pushing his curls off his forehead.

The two of them looked up at a cry that echoed down to them, finding a group of guys that had climbed to the top of the cliff by the waterfall, screaming their heads off and throwing their arms up, showing off to their group that had stayed down below, and who were returning their rowdiness. Alexa chuckled and looked at Henry, hooking an arm around his neck to support herself in the water and be close to him.

“Those guys are wild.” Henry commented, watching one of them take a running jump off the edge, feeling his stomach lurch as the guy plummeted and splashed into the water, heart clenching for a moment, waiting for him to resurface safely.

“And probably drunk.” Alexa giggled, gently pressing her lips to Henry's collarbone, as she held herself against his chiseled torso, feeling his palms squeeze and massage her hips. “If you try tossing me again, I will bite you.” She whispered against his skin.

Henry glanced down at her, cocking a brow with interest. “Is that a promise or a threat?” He asked, his own lips brushing the top of her head. “Cause, I'll gladly find out.” He said, a chuckle rumbling deep in his chest.

Fuck, I hope I'm not being too forward with her.

“Oh, you like that kind of thing?” Alexa teased him, smirking. “Superman likes getting nibbled on?”

His body reacted to her flirting, his throat bobbing as he swallowed thickly, and his blue eyes laser focused on her face. “I just might.” He purred, voice deepening as he leaned his head in close.

“Mmm.” Alexa hummed back at him, a sparkle in her eye while meeting him, feeling her heart skip a beat, knowing he was going to kiss her again. But she caught sight of Jesse wading into the shallows of the pool, camera poised on his shoulder and a soft smirk on his face, clearly understanding the moment. “You know what?” Alexa gasped, pulling away from Henry and treading in the water to keep herself up.

“I want to jump off too.” She told him, an impish smirk crossing her lips.

“Oh?” Henry frowned, confused by the mood change and sudden disconnect from her. “Is that safe?”

Alexa chuckled, splashing him. “They did it!” She called over her shoulder, swimming away to get out of the water and head up the small trail that led up to the top of the cliff.

She's crazy. Henry thought, debating if he should follow her up, to make sure she didn't get hurt on the way to the top and perhaps try and stop her or to just watch her jump from his spot in the water. She'll be fine. He tried to reassure himself, keeping his eyes fixed on the spot the group of men had been, when they jumped.

His heart calmed down slightly, seeing her pale head pop up among the lush greenery at the top of the waterfall, gazing down into the water below and waving at him with a huge smile. Henry smiled and waved back, hoping he didn't look too horrified for her well-being. Alexa surveyed the landscape from her vantage point and wished she had brought her phone up to snap a couple of photos, before jumping.

Taking a deep breath and taking a couple steps back, before taking a running leap off the edge, plummeting feet first into the water. Henry swam over, meeting her halfway back to where they had been.

“That was wild!” She giggled at him. “You should try it.”

“I don't know.” Henry chuckled, looking up at the spot. “It's pretty high.”

“I'll go with you!” Alexa said, trying to embolden him. “We could jump together!”

Henry bit his lip, then shook his head, flicking droplets of water from the ends of his curls. “Nope.” He declined, pressing his lips together. “No can do, darling.”

“Aww.” She cooed, before clicking her tongue at him. “All right. Fair enough, Sötnos.” She smiled, her eyes gentle and understanding.

“Sötnos?” Henry echoed, causing Alexa to giggle at his pronunciation of the word.

“Swat-noss.” She pronounced the word for him, slowly. “Sötnos.”

“What does it mean?” He asked, shaking his head as he tried to wrap his mind around it.

Alexa giggled, resting her hands on his shoulders. “It means a couple things.” She smirked, amused at the pet name, as she pressed herself against him, making him feel their size difference as they floated in the water. “Sweetheart. Sweet cheeks.” She explained to him, chuckling. “But the direct translation is, sweet nose.”

“You think I got a sweet nose?” Henry teased, leaning in to rub noses with her, making Alexa giggle even more. “I like it.” He told her, pulling back to look her in the eyes. “Would you teach me more?”

“Ja, of course.” She nodded, touched and excited that he wanted to learn more of her language and background. “You're going to need it, min mannen.”

“Great.” He smiled, before noticing the slight shake in her hands. “Are you all right?” He asked, taking one of them in his, pressing it between his palm and chest to seep some warmth into it. “Are you cold?” He inquired, the water was cool, but not chilly.

“No.” Alexa replied, shaking her head. “I'm just getting the shakes from my sugar starting to dip a little bit. I need to get out and eat.” She explained to him, her brow pinching as it hit her all at once.

“Let's go then.” Henry urged, wrapping an arm around her waist and guided them out of the water, back to where their pack and clothing was. “Here's water, I'll get our lunch out.” He said, opening her water bottle for her, before opening their backpack and started pulling out all the food.

Sipping her water, Alexa caught sight of something, as it fell out of the pack in Henry's rush to get their lunch ready, and reached for it. Picking up a short, plastic wrapped tube, the words printed on it were all in Spanish, but she had seen this type of container enough times in her life to know what it was.

“Did you buy glucose tablets?” She asked, looking up at Henry with a crease between her brows, holding them up for him to see.

Henry paused and looked at the tablets, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “Ye-ah.” He answered, slowly gulping. “I-” He floundered to vocalize why his brain had told him it was a good idea to head towards the chemist aisle he'd seen at the store in town, to buy the capsule of ten, Raspberry flavored, glucose tablets.

What if you needed them, while we're on our hike or on the drive back to our Villa? He thought, still struggling to voice his fear that her blood sugar would drop to an unsafe level. What if they were the only thing that kept you from-- Henry forcefully shook the last thought out of his head, refusing to manifest it.

“I just—I just thought-” He took a deep, hard breath and looked back down at his task. “I don't know what I thought.” He mumbled under his breath. “It was stupid.”

Alexa's face fell at his words, closing her fist around the tablets, wanting to say something to him about how thoughtful it really was, but couldn't find the words. “What do we have for lunch!” She said instead, changing the subject for both of them.

Henry set out their wrapped sandwiches, along with the little containers of fresh fruit, slices of mango, watermelon and oranges, as well as a small cluster of grapes. They sipped their water and nibbled on their food, Alexa gazing around the forest that surrounded them, fascinated by the towering and knotted trees among the lush green plants, the sound of the waterfall behind them was so soothing and peaceful. She sighed softly, reaching out for another piece of fruit, her hand coming into contact with Henry's, as he did the same.

Their eyes met and Alexa felt Henry's fingers caress and trace her hand, like the touch from a ghost. It made her skin tingle and the breath in her throat caught. She didn't understand. They'd known each other for less than forty-eight hours and when Henry touched her, it was like nothing she'd felt before. Not with the boyfriend she'd been with for five years or a couple of attempted dates she'd been on since breaking up with said ex-boyfriend.

What is it about him? She thought, turning her palm up to his touch, her shoulders shuddering faintly as he stroked his fingertips over the heel of her palm to her fingertips. Why does his touch light my nerve-endings on fire and send sparks into my mind? What magic is he casting over me? Alexa reflected, swimming in the azure ocean of his eyes and trying to reach the tawny island at the top.

Henry in-turn was lost in her gaze, a gentle smile twitching and curling up one corner of his lip as he drove ever deeper into the arctic landscape he found there, mapping out the small flakes of minty-green that was close to her pupils. He was besotted with her, and it only dragged him down deeper as the seconds ticked past them. Henry had no answer to it either. Though, he was sometimes prone to falling in love quickly, and that sudden realization stabbed him in the stomach, like a red-hot knife.

Am I falling too quickly? Is this just a sudden flame, that'll burn out in a week or by the time our honeymoon is over?

His fingers faltered against her skin and Alexa noticed, a wrinkle forming between her brows as she watched the bright light in Henry's eyes fade and his expression panic, pulling his hand away from her.

“I'm sorry.” He whispered, waving to the food they'd intersected at. “Go ahead.” He said, patiently waiting for her to take what she was reaching for, before grabbing his.

“Henry--” Alexa started, wanting to know if she'd done something wrong.

“Do you still want to go to the hot spring?” He asked over her, clearing his throat, knowing how rude of him it was, but couldn't bear her asking him what she intended to. “I know we went swimming here.” He said, waving to the waterfall behind them.

Alexa licked her lips and glanced at the rushing water for a second. “I would still at least like to see it.” She replied, biting her lip. “If that's all right with you?” She added, looking at him with a conflicted expression.

“That's more than all right.” He answered, popping a grape into his mouth. “I'd like to see it as well.” He confessed, offering her a half-hearted smile, hoping to bring some peace back into their outing.

“Cool.” She rasped, picking up her shorts and stood up, pulling them over her damp bikini bottoms, not bothering with her tank top, and instead stuffed it into their bag. “I'm ready, when you are.” She told him, looking at her Dexcom app, making sure her levels were in an appropriate range.

“I'm ready.” Henry replied, packing what was left of their food away and stood with her, shouldering the bag and glancing at her phone. “Is that a good level?” He asked, looking at her.

“It's a hundred and fifty, now that I've eaten.” Alexa explained, turning the screen towards him. “So, that's a pretty decent range. Especially for me.” She said, before pointing to a number beside it. “It was a hundred and ten, before I ate, which is middle to low-ish side, before a meal. But, I'm perfectly fine now. So we can head to the hot spring and likely make it back to the Villa, before I need to eat again.” She told him, closing the app and pulling up the map to the hot spring from where they were.

“So, we need to get back on the trail we arrived here on, for a short while, until we reach that fork and turn left.” She showed him their route and Henry nodded, motioning for her to lead the way.

Alexa glanced behind her to Jesse, who frowned at her, clearly annoyed she kept staring into the camera lens, before moving forward. Henry took a deep breath, glancing above them as he reached out to hook his arm around Alexa's shoulders, pulling her a little into his side as they retraced their steps over the trail.

They reached the turn, branching out in the three different directions and headed towards the hot spring, and the closer they came to it, the more they could hear the rush of the thermal waters.

Coming through a thicket of trees and brush into the clearing, they discovered the steaming, volcanic-formed pool. Not quite so populated as the pool at the foot of the waterfall, but was still dotted with people. Some stood waist deep in the warm waters, while others sat on the rocks that surrounded it, their feet dipped in, admiring the multiple, little volcanic rock waterfalls that supplied the water for the spring.

“This place is so gorgeous.” Alexa commented, as she and Henry found a spot to sit and slip their feet into the heavenly warm water, with a soft moan.

“It truly is.” Henry agreed, slowly gliding his feet through the water and watching it gurgle down one of the falls.

Alexa gasped suddenly, grasping Henry by the arm and grew animated. “Henry!” She insisted, blue eyes round with wonder and surprise as she pointed into the tree tops across the spring, just as a sound filled the steamy air, like a high-pitched, song-bird-like call. “It's a Toucan.” She grinned at him, giddy for spotting the yellow-throated toucan.

“Oh wow, it is!” Henry nodded, narrowing his eyes at the small, long billed bird of paradise.

“When I was little, I wanted one as a pet, after seeing George of the Jungle with Brendan Fraser, cause Tookie-Tookie was my favorite.” She confessed, taking her phone out to snap a photo of it. “Other than Shep the elephant.”

Henry smirked at her, touched that she shared that teeny bit of information and memory with him, and was amused by it. “Is that so?” He asked, his eyes going back to the little black and yellow bird as it took flight off its branch.

“Yeah, I love animals.” Alexa nodded, a little deflated that the toucan flew off, before looking at the photos she'd taken of it. “I had considered becoming a Zoologist before becoming a musician.” She confessed, pressing her shoulder against his and lifting her phone again, its front camera open and showing her and Henry. “We haven't taken a single photo together.” She answered the startled and confused expression she saw on Henry's face through her phone.

“I'd like at least one photo with my husband, during our honeymoon.” She smirked at him. “If he'd indulge me?”

“Why would I not?” He cooed, his expression softening and posed with her to take the photo.

[world0fmadness]

Are you liking the game so far? How it’s that?

୨୧ oh my goshhh, liking it is a huge understatement! i am absolutely loving it… let me ramble, let me ramble! i’m much better at rambling in person, through talking, but this will have to do

listen, when the remake was first announced, i really tried to be hesitant to get hyped for it because obviously so many people tell you to be wary of remakes blah blah blah… but my excitement for it always overtook me! i’ve played all of the silent hill games, i own every single one except for book of memories! i’ve been a fan of the franchise for so so so long and as i stated in an earlier post, the original silent hill 2 was the game that really changed my perspective of what games could be, the stories games could tell… so when the remake was announced? and the trailers began releasing? i was just always beyond excited! i remember literally crying from sheer joy when it was first announced and shown in the silent hill transmission…

i saw the hatred towards bloober team too and i never understood that at all! i do not think they’re a terrible developer, definitely not… there could’ve been way worse people to develop a silent hill 2 remake! i think a lot of the hate they received was just people jumping on a bandwagon of hate and most people likely haven’t played more than one game developed by bloober team… i actually thought their game the medium was incredible and took some very clear inspiration from the silent hill franchise

now that the remake is out though, yes, i am just completely obsessed with it and i am so fucking glad to see bloober team prove so many people wrong! i am so happy to see my favourite game, the game that means so much to me, get treated with so much obvious love and care… it is a remake so obviously made by real fans of the original game, so obviously made by people who know what made the original game so great!

the voice acting is just amazing in my opinion! i would actually say the voice acting in the remake is better than it is in the original, especially the voice acting for angela! urgh, her voice is just so heartbreaking… there is so much emotion in her voice but also so little… and maria! oh maria, i absolutely adore her in the remake! i’ve always adored maria as a character but even more so now… at first i was not a huge fan of her new outfit in the remake but it has definitely grown on me a lot and they put her old outfit in the game as an easter egg which was so so so sweet to see! maria actually interacts with a lot of things in the world now too, she doesn’t just follow you like a lost puppy character, she observes things, comments on things you do like smashing car windows and she even walks off on her own to look at things

the combat is another thing that i think they did just amazing on in the remake! combat was never ever a strong point of the original silent hill games, we should all be able to admit that! but the remake has definitely delivered on making the combat more fun and engaging whilst also keeping it simple and easy to remember

and the music! oh, the music… the revamped soundtrack is just beautiful, as i think we all knew it would be with akira yamaoka! i’m already obsessed with so many of the new tracks and i need the new soundtrack to be put on spotify as soon as possible! the revamped tracks just sound so fresh and he really managed to breath new life into songs that never even really needed it! the music just works so incredibly well, he made it fit the new graphics style so well!

the fog is another thing that bloober team have done exceptionally well in my opinion! the fog and atmosphere have remained to be just so… eery and yet so beautiful! i was worried about how they would make the fog as thick as it was in the original but also make it fine to navigate but they have managed to do it very well whilst also making the fog absolutely gorgeous! the eery atmosphere of silent hill absolutely shines through in the remake

the only thing i have been upset about in the remake so far is the lack of a photomode… now that pissed me off quite a bit because it is just so obviously such a gorgeous game and yet no photomode… but there’s not much i can do aside from really hope they see the demand for one and add it in as a later update! i would just love to be able to get up close to the creatures to see all of their small details… and take beautiful pictures of the town, of course! speaking of the creatures, they look beyond amazing! especially the bubble head nurses, mannequins and pyramid head! seeing them in 4K just… wowee… the mannequins are such little bastards in the remake, i hate them but i love them

i could ramble about this remake for so long, about all of the new features and new details but this post would become a fucking essay lolol! i’ve already rambled to my mother about it for at least two hours but thankfully she really likes silent hill too so it’s no biggie… but just… urgh, it truly is all i could ever want from a silent hill 2 remake… i haven’t even finished it yet and it’s already at least a 9/10 for me!

overall, if you were feeling hesitant about the silent hill 2 remake but have never played the originals and want to experience the story, or even if you have played the original! take it from a lifelong silent hill fan when i say bloober team have done this incredible game justice, this is a remake crafted with so much genuine love and care, a remake crafted by real fans of the franchise! i would absolutely recommend it, ten time over… i’ve been playing it every day almost all day since i got it, it feels impossible for me to rip myself away from it and i find myself just standing still in the game so often, just looking around and admiring…

thank you so much for this ask, anon! i love talking about everything but especially video games lolol <3

[fuckyeahtransformersfanfic]

IDW 1 FICS

These are all fanfics that are set in IDW 1 universe AUs, Canon Compliant, and Post-Canon. Enjoy!

These are some of my favorite fics ever so I really recommend them.

💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠💠

The Delphi Dilemma by Lycaste (@catesly)

Dodging the DJD. Avoiding overtures of friendship from coworkers. Navigating a lust/hate relationship with his gorgeous jerk of a boss. For Ambulon, life at Delphi is still about running. But when a strange event hits the clinic, does he have what it takes to pull it together and help save the day?

Ambulon/Pharma | IDW 1 | E | Completed | 20k+ | 6/6

Send us a Blindfold, Send us a Blade by Trinary (@trinarysuns)

Post-Unicron, Thundercracker heads to New Cybertron to schmooze with the rich and famous. Movies need funding, after all. What he expects are boring parties and a lot of paperwork. What he finds is an impossible version of his dead trinemate, kept like a prize in a towers estate. They need to get off-planet as quickly as possible, but with the enforcers hot on their trail, the only one who can help is a certain Megatron-obsessed empuratee… And Damus of Tarn has his own plans.

Starscream/Thundercracker, Elite Trine Triad | IDW 1 | M | Completed | 64k | 15/15

Twenty-Five To Life by neveralarch (@neveralarch)

Or, When Primus Put Your Hand in Mine, There Weren't Supposed to Be Handcuffs.

Starscream's on a short road to prison when he meets his sparkmate. Things can only get better from there.

Minimus Ambus/Starscream, Minor Dominus Ambus/Rewind | IDW 1 | T | Completed | 20k+ | 1/1

Your Own Hands by SatelliteSoundwave (@satellitesoundwave)

A half-finished invention saves Tarantulas’ life. Unfortunately, it also starts unravelling the universe, and Prowl has to reluctantly team up with him to save the world. Having to work together repairs severed connections, but it also reopens old wounds.

TaraProwl | IDW 1 | M | Completed | 15k | 1/1

The Children's Crusade & Once More by AsYouCommand

Story One: Imagine a future where children would never be culled.

In which the young leaders of a future revolution escape their education and Pharma encounters a choice.

Story Two: I asked him to sign his work, so I'd always keep what he did in mind.

In which Pharma grieves for a lost chance all his life, and then—

IDW 1 | G & T | Completed | 7k & 6k | 1/1

I had to rec these together. Choices just really stuck with me.

Kinstugi by DesdemonaKaylose (@desdemonafictional)

Pharma's new conjunx was not what he'd been expecting, when he asked the matchmaker for someone cultured, and agreeable, and obedient. For one thing, the mech doesn't even have a face.

Or: The Art of Letting Go is Easy to Master

Tarnma, Damus/Pharma | IDW 1 | E | Completed | 9k | 1/1

TW: Graphic Depiction of Violence

[adventures-in-a-world-of-fiction]

Why is there such a focus on graphics in video games?

I’ve made a couple of posts recently complaining about an update to The Witcher 3 made it impossible to play on my computer because my machine just wasn’t high spec enough to handle the graphics requirements. I’ve seen a bunch of posts and articles and forum discussions about how it’s terrible and broken and unplayable, giving people instructions on how to go back to the previous version. But among those, there are discussions on places like the Steam forums where people who have got super high end machines talk about the new update and the general theme seems to be, “It looks great.”

Now, in fairness, it could be that I was just looking at the posts too soon after the release for there to be in depth discussion of new storylines or bug fixes or gameplay improvements, and people were just reacting to what was most readily apparent. But still, it felt like the people who were speaking the praises of the new update were focused purely on the aesthetics.

And I don’t particularly care about graphics.

I guess it’s nice if a game is pretty or has nice scenery, but it’s not what makes the game FUN.

A while ago, I was talking about Factorio and someone suggested that if I liked that, I should try Satisfactory, which is a game with a similar concept of building machines to do stuff. As a game, Factorio is amazing and managed to completely suck me in to the point that I could play for hours and not notice time passing. Satisfactory just didn’t grab be in the same way. It wasn’t as fun or engaging. But you know what it was? Really, really pretty. The graphics were beautiful. Stunning. The alien worlds looked gorgeous.

But I went back to playing Factorio because something being prettier doesn’t make it a better game.

A short while ago, I replayed Stonekeep, which is a game from the nineties that was released on a CD. The graphics in that are terrible. All the monsters of a particular type are the same sprite endlessly repeated. The walls are made up of identical, repeated panels that make it very easy to get lost because every corridor in a level looks the same. The resolution is awful. But it’s a really engaging game with a lot of humour.

Undertale became a massive hit with pixel art.

Stardew Valley got big with its simplistic art style a million miles away from realism.

Amazing, hyper-realistic graphics don’t make something a good game. They just make it take more computing power and newer graphics cards to run. It’s perfectly possible for games to be created that do commercially well by being fun and without pixel-perfect rendering of every hair and blade of grass, yet people still hype up graphics in games reviews as though it’s a vital aspect to the game. I know the answer is probably because it’s an easy thing to wow people with in trailers and it’s something that early reviewers can talk about quickly, so it helps sell more copies, while having an intricate and well-thought out story or engrossing gameplay is something that takes longer to get the message out there about.

It’s still annoying.

Is it fun? And can I get it to run on my computer? That’s what matters to me in a game. The first one is largely disconnected to the graphics, and the second one is actively at odds with hyper-realism.

[doubleddenden]

Okay so I've been playing Star Rail and I'm gonna do a lil amateur review because I do that sometimes

Here's my take

1. I like it. I got it for pc and it's fun when I can play it.

More under the cut

2. It is free to play with micro transactions, however I've not spent any money on it and I find it quite playable and easy to get into. That being said, I started with a lot of free stuff from starting so early and codes, so my experience may have differed if I started later.

3. It's a turned based RPG akin to JRPGs like Digimon Cyber Sleuth, Persona 5, etc, but a little easier to comprehend combat wise

4. Story and setting so far is something sort of like a mix of Star Ocean- specifically 4 with the planet hopping- or Rogue Galaxy, with... well, a LOT of mystic, techno, scifi, and religious babble. Enjoyable tho. I love space trains so much. It's dumb but classy. There's also a LOT of optional lore you can collect and read to really help you get immersed if that's your thing, and characters will have a lot of dialogue to give you more world building lore too. That being said, they do kinda just toss you into the ocean with really complex shit right out the gate with no vuild up- I've been told that having SOME knowledge of the Honkai Impact series can build upon what's given, but it's not entirely necessary.

5. Graphics are great, I like the art style and how polished everything looks. Art style works for the game and it looks gorgeous. I do think the NPCs kinda look plain, but that's about expected.

6. Music is passable. Not really finding any ear worms just yet, though. The summoning music and the train music are great though.

7. It might be me and my somewhat shit connection, but I experience lag and disconnection sometimes. This can get pretty frustrating

8. Characters are fun and have fun dynamics with each other. I already dig The Trailblazer, Dan Hung, and March 7th's dynamic- I will say, wtf is this name? Like I know why, but still, not just March, March 7th specifically is her name. Is her full name Saturday, March 7th, 5023 AD?

9. Voice acting is... decent enough. I play English dub because I have reading difficulties due to unmedicated ADHD, before anyone starts screaming at me to change languages. There's some strange takes or line reads sometimes, sometimes the voice will read something different from the text, and there's a couple of voices I wish would just sound... different. But the majority is passable to really good. I've also heard some unexpected voices- you could say they are TRASH, but I find them TASTEful.

10. Character design is pretty fun imo- definitely a bit of Genshin style, but it is by the same people so you kind of expect that. But they're fun to look at, have fun weapons and moves, and have great art. My one complaint would be similar builds and designs for some characters, but that's minor and also expected. But I will say, I do prefer a good anime style over indie cartoon or realistic style, so to me I think it's great.

11. The menus are... very complex. Easy to lose track and get lost in. I swear the pause menu rearranges every time I open it.

12. It shouldn't need saying, but: It's not Genshin Impact- that's fine actually. In fact it's great, turn based rpgs are really fun, especially JRPG styled, which i like to play (Dragon Quest 11, Digimon Cyber Sleuth, Persona 5, Pokémon, etc). While I do like exploring open worlds and having a lot of freedom and real time fighting, sometimes it's nice to have a simpler point A to point B system with smaller maps, and especially nice to have auto battle. There's a bit of carry over from Genshin, but i think it works for what's given. I do miss my emergency fo- I mean, my adorable best friend Paimon, but she and all my other Genshins are Impacting in the other game while I Rail some Sta- wait I'm not finishing that sentence.

13. It is gacha. You kind of expect it- some people won't like it, I kinda like it to some degree, but I do got issues. Basically watch your spending- again, I haven't felt the need to, unlike some games that feel like you have to to get anything done. But it definitely would help to speed things along if i were. When you get a good character, it's a nice feeling for me, personally. That being said they do give you 3 pretty good ones right out the gate, and you do gather in game materials to help you summon at a fair pace anyway, so you're rolling decently enough to get something out of it.

Overall an 8/10 so far. I wanna keep playing, but unfortunately this damn meat mech that is my wretched bodily prison of my soul requires sleep, and I have things I have to do.

[gertlushgaming]

Arzette: The Jewel of Faramore Review (Steam)

Arzette: The Jewel of Faramore Review, A NEW interactive animated adventure! In this action-adventure game, Arzette must explore the Kingdom of Faramore, slay fearsome foes, acquire powerful items, discover secrets, assist colorful characters, and defeat the evil Daimur!

Arzette: The Jewel of Faramore Review Pros:

- Gorgeous graphics. - Download size. - Steam achievements. - Full controller support. - Graphics settings - fullscreen, and v-sync. - Can remap controls for the controller. - Two difficulties - normal and casual. Affects health drop rates and weaker enemies. - Beautiful animated cutscenes. - Opening tutorial section then ongoing pop-ups. - Excellent voice work throughout. - Action platformer gameplay. - Upbeat soundtrack that highlights a different instrument on each stage. - Plays like a modern game but feels old school. - World map level select. - Can replay levels. - Secret areas can be found. - 2D perspective. - Easy to get into with simple familiar controls. - Trigger objectives within a level to earn bonus rewards. - Has a cool fade-in and fade-out integration of the voiced cutscenes as you interact with people. - Enemies can drop jewels and health. - Heart-based health system where a hit loses a heart. - The goal of the game is to reignite beacons and defeat the bosses. - The main castle hub lets you visit shops to buy new gear and items or upgrade weapons. - A lot of solid platforming action. - Get new abilities like oil lamps for light, rope to escape dungeons, protection rings, etc. - You are free to go around and play locations in any order. has a Metroidvania undertone as you need certain items to progress in previously blocked areas. - Infinite lives. - Lightning-fast loading times. - Memorable well-written characters. - Every location has five things to find and finish including the beacon and bonus rooms. - Bonus rooms are time-based mini-games. - Candles have to be found to break down barriers. - A great story that keeps you hooked. - Unlock a smart gun to take down previously unbreakable blocks. - Big boss fights. - Save and quit and save and go back to the map options. - You can use the smart gun as a gun to take down enemies. - Overall game progression percentage on the main menu. Arzette: The Jewel of Faramore Review Cons: - Jumping takes some getting used to only as you don't jump as high as you do in other games. - Progress can be slow mostly as you have so much freedom you get lost or confused. - Items are close together in the shop so hitting them with your weapon to buy will buy all the items it touches. - You cannot switch the oil lamp on and off to conserve oil. - Swapping items is always done in the menu which is clunky now especially as there are so many empty buttons on a pad. - Cannot access any game or audio options when in the game. - Some items don't have any descriptions. - Minimal graphics settings. - The game has no audio settings. - You have to be careful as activating a scroll will take you straight out of the level. - There is a five hundred jewel limit. - Jewel drops don't last long. - You are not always sure what you can jump on for a platform and which drops are safe. Related Post: TEKKEN 8 Review (PlayStation 5) Arzette: The Jewel of Faramore: Official website. Developer: Seedy Eye software Publisher: Limited Run Games Store Links - Steam Read the full article

[hoe-doroki]

ana’s bnha x reader masterlist

first updated 11.17.20 last updated 07.13.21 desktop version found here bkdk masterlist: desktop | mobile

fics [38] drabbles [13]

Thanks for dropping by! I want to note that I no longer write x reader and instead am writing bakudeku shipfic. So! By all means, read, like, comment on my fics here! But I can't recommend that you follow me unless you like bakudeku. Hope you enjoy your time here regardless! <3

legend:

character x character

Title w/ link | [rating] | word count | genre

Synopsis

ratings are bracketed: e.g. [g], [t], [m], [e]

[g] - appropriate for general audiences [t] - appropriate for audiences 13+ [m] - contains non-graphic adult themes [e] - explicit, 18+ readers only

🌸 = personal faves

characters x reader: no ship (1), aizawa (2), bakugou (12), endeavor (1), iida (2), kaminari (1), kirishima (4), midoriya (7), shinsou (2), todoroki (19)

Everything is in alphabetical order <3

no ship

2020 Election Night Comfort | [g] | 0.6k | hurt/comfort

The results are in and your class is all with you as you process the results

aizawa x reader

Stress Relief | [e] | 3k | smut

There's a new regulation that forces you to take an extra class before you can graduate college. When you learn that Eraserhead is teaching the class, you’re a little more interested.

2020 Election Night Comfort | [g] | 0.6k | hurt/comfort 

Aizawa reminds that you were prepared for this and, together, you can handle it.

bakugou x reader

Can’t Find My Breath | [e] | 4.2k | smut 🌸

At the beginning of the day, Ground Zero was just another hero you wrote articles about. Now it’s nighttime and you’ve just left a bar together. Companion to The Rest with No Sound

Christmas Cold | [g] | 1k | fluff

You and Katsuki manage to make it to your parents' house for the holidays, but you've come down with a little cold.

Doing Something Right | [e] | 1.8k | smut

You’re pregnant and happily enjoying domestic bliss when Katsuki comes in, unable to resist you.

Frustration | [e] | 3.1k | smut

request. After a long day of work, Katsuki comes home frustrated and you, suffering from a different kind of frustration yourself, know exactly what will help you both.

Gorgeous | [e] | 1.5k | smut, hurt/comfort

ask. When you have a negative response to Katsuki touching you in a moment of insecurity, he intends to do whatever he can to alleviate your fears.

version 1: petite reader

version 2: curvy reader

Magic | [e] | 2.2k | smut

request. Katsuki comes home early and catches you...taking care of yourself.

Miniskirts | [e] | 0.8k | smut 🌸

After a long day, Katsuki takes a shower and his thoughts turn to you.

On the Job | [e] | 4.5k | smut 🌸

Super human society has a secret. Aphrodisiac quirks aren’t just of porn and fantasy--they’re common and too often fall into the wrong hands. When heroes get hit, someone has to be able to activate the quirk’s release condition. If they’re single, who might that someone be?

You.

The Rest with No Sound | [t] | 8.5k | slow burn, fluff 🌸

Bakugou thinks that people who wake up not remembering where they are are idiots. This is confirmed when it happens to him, head aching from a night of drinking. Idiot. But when he looks over, and sees you there, he realizes he doesn’t remember anything. So he has to gather the scattered pieces from the day before to figure out exactly how he ended up with you. Companion to Can’t Find My Breath

Stay | [g] | 2.2k | hurt/comfort 🌸

ask. The last thing you want to do on a rough day is worry Bakugou with your problems. So you try to hide it. You should have known better.

Steamy | [e] | 2.7k | smut

request. You're a pro hero, rising in the ranks and, happy though he is for you, Katsuki's old jealousy begins to roil. After you've been paraded around all evening as one of Japan's finest, Katsuki finds himself feeling more than a little possessive, and can't help himself from taking you as his.

Steel and Lace | [e] | 3.8k | smut

The only one who manages to get Bakugou’s birthday right is you.

endeavor x reader

When the Smoke Clears | [e] | 17.4k | slow burn, smut

Soulmate AU. After his battle with Hawks against Hood, Endeavor wakes up in the hospital to find that a young doctor saved his life, their quirk being able to counteract the negative effects of his own. His first thought is that he has to talk to you–you might be able to fix the drawbacks of his quirk. His second thought is oh no, not again.

iida x reader

Broken Glass | [g] | 1.8k | fluff, mild comfort

request. In a quirk-related accident you find yourself surrounded by shattered glass. Worst of all, most of that glass is from every single pair of your boyfriend’s glasses.

Flotsam, Jetsam, Lagan, and Derelict | [g] | 1.5k | hurt/comfort

ask. Trying to hide a panic attack from your boyfriend isn’t easy when he’s right next to you. But you’re determined to suffer alone.

kaminari x reader

2020 Election Night Comfort | [g] | 0.4k | hurt/comfort

You share your unsteady hope with Kaminari.

kirishima x reader

Silhouette | [e] | 1.8k | smut, hurt/comfort

ask.  Before a gala, you’re stuck in the mirror, caught on all your old body insecurities. Kiri comes in and loves you regardless.

version 1: petite reader

version 2: curvy reader

We’ll See | [g] | 6.3k | gen, light romance 🌸

demisexual!Reader. After a fateful meeting, you and Kirishima keep running into each other. And although he’s so nice, you fear the fact that he might be interested in you. Even though all you want is, for once, to let yourself be happy and maybe fall in love, you can’t seem to be able to.

What We Look For | [t] | 15.5 | slow burn

Last time, you and Kirishima became friends—nothing more, nothing less. The idea of being something more sounds nice. But you can’t. You just can’t. So you won’t. Whatever happens will be on your own terms. Sequel to We'll See

2020 Election Night Comfort | [g] | 0.4k | hurt/comfort

Kirishima freaks out while you experience a numb calm. You meet in the middle.

midoriya x reader

Bad Days | [g] | 1.4k | hurt/comfort

Izuku helps you get out of bed.

Sunlight | [e] | 2.1k | smut 🌸

request. An early afternoon in bed with your husband, Izuku.

Surprised, Just Once | [e] | 5k | smut

request. You were planning on just another predictable night out with the girls. What you got was much, much more.

2020 Election Night Comfort | [g] | 0.3k | hurt/comfort

Izuku holds you close while you watch the results.

Multiple unrelated oneshots with Deku with an s/o with an eating disorder | ask

Gratitude | [t] | 1.4k | hurt/comfort

After having been with Izuku a while, you’re suffering a relapse and he helps you through with some gratitude practices on date night.

Picnic | [t] | 1.8k | hurt/comfort

Izuku surprises you with a picnic on your second date, much to your horror.

A Start | [t] | 1.2k | hurt/comfort 🌸

You ask Izuku for help when you realize you need it.

Trust Yourself | [t] | 2.3k | hurt/comfort

Shortly after moving in together, Izuku learns of your struggles and tries his best to comfort and encourage you.

shinsou x reader

Passing the Night Stars | [g] | 3.2k | hurt/comfort

The party was neon and you needed darkness.

2020 Election Night Comfort | [g] | 0.4k | hurt/comfort

Shinsou helps you prioritize yourself.

todoroki x reader

All Dressed Up | [e] | 4.6k | smut 🌸

quarantine fic. It’s been months since you’ve dressed up, felt pretty, and felt seen by anyone. Your husband’s birthday is a perfect excuse to get all dressed up. And then take it right off.

All the Wasted Time | [e] | 3.2k | smut, fluff

Three months ago, you’d been ripped from Shouto’s side with something less than a love confession, something more than a show of feelings. Now that you’re back, you’re eager to make up for lost time. Siberia sequel, First Snow prequel

Bad Days | [g] | 0.9k | hurt/comfort 🌸

Shouto comforts you when your demons arrive unexpectedly.

First Snow | [g] | 2.2k | fluff

A year after the events in Siberia, you and Shouto are happily together, and it’s the first snow of the year. Siberia and All the Wasted Time sequel

On the Job | [e] | 3.4k | smut 🌸

Super human society has a secret. Aphrodisiac quirks aren’t just of porn and fantasy--they’re common and too often fall into the wrong hands. When heroes get hit, someone has to be able to activate the quirk’s release condition. If they’re single, who might that someone be?

You. Sequel to On the Job (Bakugou); can be read alone

Siberia | [e] | 13.8k | pining/angst, smut, fluff 🌸

On the field, you and Todoroki are rising stars amongst hero pairings. Off the field…you’re kind of in love with him. After a successful capture, you’re boss brings you in to let you know you’re being sent on assignment in foreign country…alone. Before you leave, you have to act. You’re not partners anymore, after all. And with a little liquid courage you do. Then, the next morning, you still have to leave. All the Wasted Time and First Snow prequel.

Worth it | [t] | 0.3k | gen

The morning after with your boyfriend, Shouto.

2021 Election Night Comfort | [g] | 0.5k | hurt/comfort

The stress of election day comes back swiftly during the Georgia runoff and Todoroki’s quick to notice.

all works below are within the world of the a spare heart series:

A series about a fem, American reader who had to transfer to U.A. partway through second year. You’re there to become a hero, that much is obvious, but why else did you come? And, more importantly, what—or who—makes you stay?

timeline

may, year two:

- reader finishes junior year of American high school early

- reader transfers to u.a. from the united states

The Meeting | [g] | 0.1k | gen

Reader meets Tokoyami for the first time. Sequel to first impressions from my wip list

Hollow Victory | [g] | 9.6k | gen, action

chapter 1 | chapter 2

You transferred to U.A. from America two weeks ago. No one has found out your quirk yet. Today, they’re going be meeting it head on and you have the advantage: surprise.

june, year two:

Illiterate | [g] | 2.1k | fluff, comfort

Being unable to read Japanese makes you feel so stupid. And who comes into the common room after midnight just as you’re about to cry? The boy who hasn’t spoken to you in three weeks.

sequels

The Offering | [g] | 0.4k | fluff, gen.

The Mission (Shouto POV) | [g] | 0.3k | fluff, gen., silly

september, year two:

Impetus | [g] | 2.1k | friendship

Ever since Shinsou found out what your quirk was, the two of you have been each other’s best friends and confidantes. But when he turns a casual training session into a tease over your supposed crush on someone in your class, that trust might just break.

january, year two:

This Clock Never Seemed So Alive | [g] | 1.2k | fluff, comfort

You and your boyfriend, Shouto, always walk to class together, but today you haven’t yet left your dorm. When he checks on you, he finds you awake, but curled on your side, suffering from period cramps.

sequels

The Questions (drabble) | [g] | 0.1k | gen.

The Sweetness (double drabble) | [g] | 0.2k | fluff, comfort

february, year three:

Between Fear and Guilt | [t] | 2.5k | light angst, comfort

You and Shouto only started being intimate a couple months back, but you’re already experiencing a dry spell. Today you’re going to figure out what’s up with your boyfriend once and for all.

fifteen years after graduation

Something Perfect | [e] | 3.7k | smut, fluff

After years of questioning if Shouto would ever want children, he’s finally decided that he really does. Overjoyed, the two of you decide to get started.

[snackhobi]

pairing: jungkook x reader / word count: 7.4k / genre: pacific rim au with brief smut (NSFW, 18+)

summary: there are no secrets in the drift. if jungkook were to see the mess inside your head and heart, laid utterly bare, he’d turn away from you.

warnings: sexually explicit content (briefly), unprotected sex (please be safe when you have sex) / reference to injuries but nothing graphic, giant robots powered by love punching big alien monsters

a/n: this is a birthday gift for the amazing @yeojaa​. happy birthday, erin. this is completely self serving and is stuffed full with inside references that I hope you’ll enjoy. I wrote this in two days and it kicked my ass because I did so much reading and researching that turned out to not even come up in the story 👁👄👁 you know when I said I was studying? I lied. I was writing HAHAHAH ily I hope you like it hhhh (this is unbeta’ed so please forgive any mistakes it’s 1:30am as I’m scheduling this) (also summaries are so hard, I’m sorry)

Jeon Jungkook really is the perfect posterboy for a Jaeger pilot.

Broad across the shoulders and trim at the waist, all sharp punches and hard muscle, resilient and tough, with a face that’s the perfect balance of angles and softness; the cut of his jaw easing up and into his pretty mouth, the line of his brows subdued by his warm eyes—he’s a Goddamn vision, raw masculinity overlaid on rich veins of boyishness, glittering stratum that sparkle and shine even under the harsh lights of the Shatterdome. 

He pouts when he thinks and his hair hangs a little in his big, big eyes and he has dimples that appear when he grins, teeth poking out onto his pretty pink lips, like someone took a rabbit and turned it into a man and packed on pounds of muscle alongside. Undeniably powerful and strong, but youthful and sweet, too.

Alongside Kim Taehyung—arresting and beautiful and somehow affable and approachable, all at the same time—they’re exactly what South Korea needs right now, propelling the country’s new look for their renewed assault against the kaiju. They’re the lucky new Rangers who’ve claimed ownership of the only Mark-5 that their homeland has produced, Bulletproof Striker, a fucking gorgeous Jaeger bristling with the latest and greatest technology that the world has produced.

But that doesn’t mean they’re the best that South Korea has to offer.

Cypher Zero is smaller, lighter, older, but she’s fierce. Just like her pilots. You and Yoongi might not be the burning beacons of hope that Jungkook and Taehyung are, polished and buffed to a squeaky shine, but you don’t need to be. You’re vicious and victorious and show no signs of stopping. The kaiju kills painted on your Mark-4’s shoulder are evidence enough of that, notches for each monster taken down, spray painted in one tiny corner of the huge swathe of burnished metal plating, the red edges of her midnight skin.

Bulletproof Striker is almost untouched, deployed just once since her recent launch, flawless exterior so at odds with Cypher Zero’s battered facade. Cypher’s beautiful, of course, but bears the history of your skirmishes, inside and out: scuffed paintwork, dented metal, rust dripping down from the ladder rungs dotted across her, melting into the obsidian of her hull. 

Jungkook and Taehyung move in a way that’s practiced, disciplined motions of combat that their Jaeger echoes in turn. Her mechanical movements reflect those of the men inside her head, skilled and superb. Stunning. But you and Yoongi? You fight dirty, violent and rough; messy bar room brawls; shattered glass and clawing hands in beer soaked backrooms, tinged sulphur yellow under dirty lightbulbs; two kids who fought against a world that was against them. 

(Two damaged people coming together in the Drift to make something even stronger than the sum of your parts.)

(Two damaged people who survived the rough hands of the Jaeger Academy, trying to take them, push them, shape them, break them.)

(Life isn’t kind. You’d learned that young, surrounded in the splintered remnants of your childhood home, the facade of family and happiness already gone, long long long ago, leaving you aching and lonely and cold. The prospect of fighting thousands of tons of alien hatred, lifting out of the depths of the uncaring, dark sea? At least you can see the kaiju coming. Broken households and loneliness? A little harder to lay your hands on.)

(But out of everything you lost, you’d gained one thing—Min Yoongi, another quiet, damaged thing, but with the biggest depths of warmth and love underneath that hard surface; your best friend, your brother-in-arms, growing alongside you, with you. Damaged kids turned bitter teenagers turned razor-edged adults, outcasts in solitude, but together. Not alone.)

(The deeper the bond, the better you fight. Falling into the Drift with Yoongi had been easy, years of tangled connection bleeding into the images that flashed across your brain. The same memories from different angles, overlaid with different emotions, undercurrents eddying under the surface that caught both of you and swept you up in its flow; the same mind, bridged by hundreds of tons of metal and technology and firepower underneath you, linked together in the silence of the Drift.)

There’s reverence, in the way these two new pilots look at you both, reverence and awe and respect alike: older Rangers, more experienced, history written across the worn edges of your Drivesuits, the paint flaking away from your battle armour, scuffs and scrapes on the once unblemished veneer; knowledge etched into the feline slant of Yoongi’s eyes, the turn of your shoulders and hips. 

You know Jungkook’s track record. You know of the endless months of assessment and sparring and psych evals and Drift tests and simulation drops that every successful Ranger has to go through, and Jungkook had trumped them all, stood atop them like a conqueror surveying his hard-won lands—gifted, talented, some even said God-touched. And yet for all this indomitable talent and skill, there’s still humility at his core, a willingness to defer with respect.

That deference is obvious whenever he sees you. Jungkook’s dark eyes will touch your own, for a moment, dark and deep and bright—and then his gaze will skitter away, cockiness and bravado dissolving into something submissive, yielding. (Shy.) You’ve watched him orbit you, the younger ranger caught in your gravity, always nearby—the Shatterdome is only so big, for its magnitude and sprawling corridors—but never broaching that final gap, that little step, into Cypher Zero’s space, Yoongi’s space, your space. Keeping himself at arm’s length.

South Korea’s golden boy, less afraid of the Kaiju than he is of his sunbaenim.

Jungkook and Taehyung are both beautiful. But you and Yoongi are less so, unapproachable in ways that the younger pilots aren’t, private and prickly, like grasping a patch of stinging nettles with bare hands, stinging and burning.

As if Jungkook isn’t terrifying and gorgeous in his own ways. As if he doesn’t shine brighter than the sun himself. Taehyung moves through the world with a thoughtless, charismatic ease that Jungkook doesn’t share—but he’s still magnetic, bold and brilliant, monstrously skilled at everything he puts his mind to, training again and again and again to get it right, get it right, get it right. 

To get it perfect. 

But there’s no level of perfectionism that can surmount the twisted, unpredictable nature of the kaiju belched forth from the breach. No matter how good you are, how strong or fast, how smart or seasoned, sometimes you still get caught in that hurricane, even in a Jaeger.

It doesn’t matter how many engines are packed into each muscle strand. It doesn’t matter how fast the pistons and levers and gears shift and move. It doesn’t matter that the pilots in her cockpit are impeccable and incredible. Under the cloak of deepest night and pouring rain, blanketed in darkness and water from the heavens above and the sea below, movement is impossible to track—and when Steelbrute rises from the waves, no one sees the kaiju coming.

Bulletproof Striker takes the hit. Jungkook and Taehyung fight back but they’re blindsided and overwhelmed, and their Jaeger falls to her knees in the churn of the Pacific Ocean, salt water crashing over her in choppy waves as Steelbrute’s merciless maw gapes wide open.

Cypher Zero is 250ft tall and weighs 1410 tons. You and Yoongi are tiny specks of organic matter in a fearsome behemoth of titanium and tungsten and graphene and circuitry, commanders of a weapon that’s the same size as a skyscraper—and yet you wouldn’t think that for how fast you move. Zero hesitation. No verbal communication. Cypher’s legs cut through endless waves and gain momentum with each crashing step that slams into the seafloor before you leap forward in a flurry of motion and Drift powered fury. 

Your motions in the Conn-Pod are ragged and incensed, your arms and legs moving in sync with Yoongi, with Cypher Zero, a snarl ripping out of your co-pilot’s usually quiet mouth as the kaiju lurches underneath you. The world narrows down to this: throwing yourself into the fray, jagged knuckles edged with plasma pummelled into Steelbrute’s skin in a scuffle that’s vicious, aggressive, until Bulletproof Striker regains her footing.

The sun is rising, grey and cold on the horizon when Steelbrute finally sinks into the sea, toxic blood flooding the water with neon blue. When you step out of the cockpit, Yoongi’s fringe is matted with sweat, and you can feel all the places the circuitry suit sticks to your skin—piloting a Jaeger is mentally and physically exhausting, every muscle and organ and bone working overtime for endless hours as you fight tooth and nail. Without the helmets in the way, there’s nothing stopping you bumping your foreheads together, heedless of the sweat slicked there; Yoongi’s hand rests at the back of your head, a familiar cradle.

“All good,” you say. Yoongi lets out a quiet bark of a laugh, rough and exhausted.

“I want a nap,” he says, like he always does, even if you’re a long way away from that, still fully suited and due to speak to the Marshalls. There are so, so many things separating you from the bliss of sleep.

One thing that’s not part of the normal routine, though, is the other pilots catching you, demanding your recognition, respectful (Taehyung) but insistent (Jungkook). You know that Yoongi doesn’t like attention or hero-worship, but there’s nothing except gratitude, here, bent heads and words of thanks. You’d saved their lives, after all. Saved their Jaeger from being torn apart, pain screaming through their own bodies of flesh and bone, connected to their metal monster. Of course they’re grateful.

You dismiss it with a hard cut of your hand.

“It’s nothing,” you say. 

You’re speaking the words you know are in Yoongi’s head—years of friendship and shared Drifts leaving his thought processes wide open to you—although you know you’re sharper than he is, harsher than he is, even, for all that he looks like the cold one from the outside. Long lashes and silken hair don’t translate to something soft and feminine and pretty, and you’re all ragged edges and rough parts, bleeding into the delivery of your words. Yoongi rounds the words in his mouth and places them into the world with a rumble of quiet strength that belies his past, but you? Your tongue is cutting and terse and drips with distrust, even when you don’t mean it to, staring at these two boys, Jungkook’s eyes so brown and large when he stares back at you.

The truth is that you care about humanity, of course. You care about humanity and you care about the millions of people in the cities that line the coasts and further inland, and you care about your fellow pilots, skilled but soft-hearted as they are. You’re stronger. You have to be. That’s what Yoongi is, that’s what you are: fighters. You fight dirty because you fight to win, not to protect yourselves. You’ll fight and you’ll die for this, for them, even if there’s no friendship there. Not yet. You’re still too distant, for all that you’d thrown yourself in the line of fire to rip the kaiju from the younger Rangers. 

And when Jungkook levels a look at you, there’s a flicker of something. A spark. All the glittering of his warm eyes comes together like the cascading sparks of molten fire that fall when metal is cut through— his eyes score through you, down down down, right to your core, underneath all the armour you’ve laid about yourself throughout your life. Your heart stutters. You’ve been watching Jeon Jungkook, and he’s all cocky Ranger bravado, or innocent brown eyes and shy, curving smiles, and yet. 

And yet. You know he sees this soft part of you, somehow. Past the thorns and sharp leaves, past the hard husk, into the rich, bursting sweetness inside, oozing red gems of pomegranate that yield so easily to the fingers and mouth.

(He’s temerarious and modest and wickedly perceptive too, it seems.)

“That was our kill,” he says suddenly. Taehyung—the voice piece of the two, the one who’s been smiling and speaking, easy and slow—goes still at his side.

“What?” Yoongi’s eyes pierce through him, but Jungkook keeps his focus on you.

“Steelbrute. Our kill. It was a hit from our rockets that took him out,” Jungkook says, eyes still glinting with that sparkling shine. Slicing through you with an explosion of light. “Not your blades.”

Silence steals over you, for a breath. It’s never truly silent in the Shatterdome, an iron fortress that never sleeps, but for a second, there’s quiet. It wraps around you. Tight. Almost deafening.

But then you break that silence.

You laugh. 

You laugh at the cheeky grin that pulls at Jungkook’s lips, the boyish lift to his face.  You laugh at his shamelessness, the sudden 180 from his earlier fear. You laugh at the way he’s diluted this astonishing, formidable thing—humanity coming together to destroy alien predators that threaten the planet—into a competition.

“You’re a menace, Jeon Jungkook,” you say.

Stinging nettles you might be, but if you’re grabbed hard and fast by confident hands, you don’t wound. Jeon Jungkook defers to respect, avoids confrontation, bows his head and quiets his mouth, but he knows, now, that he can do this. That he can push you like this, and you’ll let him, sway against it, let yourself be pushed.

Yoongi slides you a glance out the corner of his eyes, a light touch, a tacit agreement to an unspoken question.

“You can have it. Steelbrute’s yours.” There’s the smallest curl to your lips as you speak for you both. There’s something weirdly easy and familiar to this, to this interaction, even if you’ve barely exchanged words before now, giving this triumph to the other pilots hand over fist.

(Giving it to Jungkook on a platter.)

You can see the flare of triumph in Jungkook’s eyes. You know it’s not for the notch of their first kill, one they can add to their Jaeger. It’s for something far harder to achieve, something far more ephemeral: digging down and past your cool veneer and lifting out a smile, spreading it across your lips like warm butter, liquid gold.

And he keeps making you smile. 

Jeon Jungkook, you find, is a force of nature, relentless, an ocean. Sometimes he’s soft, loving waves of glittering blue that crash on pearly white beaches, playful and bright. Sometimes, he’s intense, the crashing waves of a storm tossed sea, powerful and unstoppable. Always, he’s striking, even when he’s not trying—even more so because of it, moving without thought or uncertainty, a silence settling over your thoughts whenever you see him like this. See him in this raw state, so unafraid where before he’d curbed his tongue and bent his head in front of you. Now, he’s just himself, without filter.

Taehyung is there too, of course. Both pilots join your small, fiercely private circle, not just a path from you to Yoongi any more. They become intertwining lines, a pattern that’s drawn between the four of you, pilots, friends. And you learn, that for all that you’d thought that Taehyung was the dominant one outside of their Jaeger, social and extroverted and unabashed, Jungkook isn’t quiet. Not when he’s comfortable.

(Not, now, when he’s with you.)

He’s a myriad of things, endlessly deep, so different from you, from Yoongi, but—the truth of it settles inside you, your joints, the marrow of your bones, the blood that pulses forth from your heart each time it beats in your chest, liquid life running through you. 

Drift compatibility.

Not that it matters. You already have a partner. You’re never going to open yourself up to anyone that isn’t Yoongi, who’s seen every part of you already. There’d been no fear about letting Yoongi see inside your brain, your heart, the raw, bleeding parts of you—because he’d already known them. Just like you’d known his. Yoongi stands to your right, inside the Conn-Pod and out, a driving force, even in his silence. 

But Jungkook is softer, sweeter, for all his raw power and skill, respect engraved into his every motion, even when he’s teasing and making you laugh. Even when he ignores the social guidelines that he should follow, does follow for others, everyone except you. 

And you don’t mind. You don’t bite out insults at him when he slides into the quiet hollow you’ve scraped out, a small space with just enough room for the people you keep in your heart. You’re still barbed and spiked, warding away unwanted attention, but for Jungkook, the claws retract. 

You’re still you, of course. Jungkook calls you mean, says that you bully him, even as he’s flopped across your bunk, eating your rations, shovelling coveted popcorn into his mouth. He might pout and sigh and cry oppression, but you’re soft on him and he knows it. That quiet hollow in your heart is a little larger, now, a little louder. Jungkook is brazen in his claim of this space, spreading each of his limbs wide as he fits himself into every part of it. He doesn’t know every piece of your past, and you don’t plan to let him see all the messy parts bundled in your chest, but. But he’s still there.

And you let him stay. You make a home for him inside you and let him take the key. He might tilt his head and goad you, might pretend there’s a genuine challenge in the set of his jaw, but you know it’s all tempered with admiration, veneration. Friendship.

(And where he clearly respects you, you admire him in turn. You’re reminded of your differences every second he moves and breathes and just exists in front of you, but you don’t have to be similar to someone to realise just how incredible they are.)

(But though you’re different, there are similarities. You’re not a mirrored image, a reflection, like you are with Yoongi. Instead, you’re a line drawn between two separate places, an isohel, sun lighting up your world for the same sweep of the clock even for how far apart you are. Sharing that same, tenuous thing, for all your contrasting parts.)

(This thing that’s growing, held in your hands. This soft, gentle thing, shimmering, frail, unfurling slowly but undeniably. Tinged with happiness, disbelief. Disbelief that you’ve found this, that you can see Jungkook across the echoing cavern of the Shatterdome’s main hall, so far in the distance, barely visible at the foot of his Jaeger—and something will settle in your chest. Featherlight, iridescent. Something comforting.)

When you fight the kaiju, now, it’s with a deeper reserve of desperation. Taehyung and Jungkook aren’t just fellow pilots, dongsaeng that you’re obliged to look after: they’re your friends, something more than that too, part of the rare handful of people in the world who understand, this overwhelming pressure to fight and win and protect the things you love. The people you love. They understand what it’s like to step into someone else’s head, to be connected to that person on a level that’s unfathomable, anchored in a depth of love that’s endless. You’re their aegis, now, their shield.

(Jungkook’s shield.)

Maybe that’s what’s to blame. Maybe that’s why you’re so sloppy, this time. Maybe that’s why you throw yourselves in the way of the blow that was meant for Bulletproof Striker. Maybe that’s why Ojousan shreds Cypher Zero’s chest apart, her head, why Yoongi is almost ripped from you, his fear and pain screaming through your neural connection. You feel everything he feels and more beside, your heart hammering in your throat as you scream, Jaeger’s arm swinging up and around in tandem with your own motions as you try to rip the kaiju away, anything to protect Yoongi, so scared of losing him, always always always, scared of being left alone.

But you’re not alone. 

Bulletproof Striker lifts up like an avenging angel. Her horns roar a challenge, an echoing battle cry as the younger pilots move in. Heavier and stronger, keeping her balance even in the turbulence of a fight, she takes the hits, gives back her own, sends the kaiju down into the crashing waves, waits for it to rise. But the monster is crafty and quick and even as you’re lifting your left arm—Yoongi’s hurt, so hurt, you know this, feel this, but he moves with you to ready the plasma cannon buried in the mechanics of your Jaeger’s hand, even if he’s keening with pain—you watch as the other pilots, too, fall victim to the clawed tail of the kaiju, screeching through layers of alloys and across their Conn-Pod.

Terror strikes through every part of you and morphs into hate. You hate the kaiju, hate your own weakness, hate the pain that’s been saved from being written into your own body while Yoongi screams and sobs even though he still fights. Your motions are anguished and desperate as you battle to overcome this beast that’s almost taken away everything that matters to you—and Cypher Zero, Yoongi, as damaged and hurt as they are, come through. (Like they always do, for you, always.)

And somehow, despite everything, for all the self-hatred and pain and fear, you pull through. You pull through. Damaged and hurt but alive.

Barely.

Barely alive. 

(One hand gives, the other takes away.)

It takes hours for them to pick Yoongi’s Drivesuit from his body, crumpled around him from Ojousan’s claws, cutting into the soft flesh of his body, body ruined further by the fighting he’d been forced into despite his injuries; so many of Taehyung’s bones are shattered, and when you finally see him awake and with his eyes open, there are burst blood vessels that cast red across the usually warm expression, his friendly eyes.

You should be grateful that they’re alive. You should be on your hands and knees, weeping, benedictions dripping from your graceless mouth as you thank whatever merciless God above decided to turn their gaze on you and grant you this leniency. So many pilots have died and will continue to die, you know this, but somehow your partners are still alive.

And you are grateful. You are. But there’s bitterness on your tongue, twisted across your palate, sour and acrid and filling you with its taste. You’d been foolish and reckless and you’d almost lost the things you cared about most, even if you’d destroyed the kaiju, torn it apart and left its fluorescent indigo blood to corrode the ocean. 

That’s what’s important, isn’t it. Saving humanity. One person, two people, four people—you’re the tiniest cogs in a whirring engine of billions. Unimportant. Just a spinning part that keeps the machine going.

When you’re not with Yoongi or Taehyung, an unmoving presence from their hospital beds, a hovering gargoyle carved from stone, you’re with Jungkook. Always, always, always. Somehow you’d both escaped without the injuries inflicted on your partners—you’d manage to break your little finger, and Jungkook had a black eye and a twisted ankle, and the both of you had mottles of bruises cast across your skin, pulled muscles, an ache carved into your bones, but that was it. That was it. It was almost laughable, how unscathed you are.

You hate it.

(It should have been you.)

Your legs—unbroken, unharmed—hang over steel scaffolding, motionless as you watch the tiny specks of people scuttling across the catwalks that criss-cross Cypher Zero’s body. You can see under her skin, damage peeling back all the layers of metal that should be holding her together. Endless showers of sparks fall and scatter as she’s stitched back together. Your beautiful girl is so damaged, so disfigured.

(You’d caught Yoongi as he’d fallen from the harness, listened to the horrible noises that had torn out of his lips as he’d dripped blood and pain over your shaking hands.)

The bland food you’d scraped off your dinner tray settles fitfully in your stomach, still one second, nausea bubbling up your throat the next. 

It’s one of the rare times you’ve been alone, since… since everything. You’ve been taking comfort in Jungkook’s presence, unwavering and understated, needing someone there when staring at Yoongi’s battered face proved too much. Even with his own upheaval Jungkook’s been there, at your side, always close. Eyes locked on you and taking everything in, the tired set to your face, the expression that tugs down your lips, and still, he stays.

But he’d disappeared after you’d eaten, a peculiar look on his face—you know him well enough now to recognise that look, that it means he’s got something in his head, some plan he means to unfold. It’s the first time you’ve seen it since Taehyung had been pulled out of the Conn-Pod. It’s some semblance of normality, an expression of something other than pale-faced dread and bone-shivering guilt. 

(You feel it too, that survivor’s guilt. Taehyung and Yoongi will recover but it’ll take time and so much suffering and you wish you could take that from them, heft that burden onto your own shoulders.)

(You know Jungkook feels the same.)

(You see it written in the tense lines of his body. Hear it unspoken in the words he shares with you. The bruises on his skin melt from red to purple to blue to yellow, but even if his body heals, his brain and heart bear the scars of helplessness.)

Jungkook reappears, finds you at the heavy steel door that leads into your room, rusted and worn but silent as it swings open in front of you. His eyes are wide and he’s breathless, like he’s been running, chest heaving as he sucks in air through his parted lips, a flash of teeth and tongue as he smiles.

Despite everything, you smile back. Helpless for that smile, always, happier now for the sight of it, for how little you’ve seen it. You want to see that smile every day. You don’t want him to worry for anything. You want him to feel the same way you do, when you see him: that quiet, maybe selfish thought that things are okay. 

Maybe he does. (His eyes are so warm.) He presses something into your hands, something soft and round like a well-practised secret, and then he’s gone. You can tell by the gait of his stride that he’s going back to Taehyung, giving you a moment of lonely reprieve to wash the grime and dirt off your useless body before you follow in his footsteps, stationed at Yoongi’s side.

The door swings shut behind you.

You lift your hand.

It’s an orange.

It’s a small, overripe thing, hard nub of the stem falling away from the skin with only the lightest brush of your fingers. You stare at the fruit, its brightness cutting through the muted sepia tones of your surroundings, a point of colour in an otherwise dull room.

You haven’t seen an orange in months. Rationing is tough on everyone, even Jaeger pilots. You’d mentioned in passing, so long ago, an old habit of yours. Before something else floated above it, more important and interesting, you’d made a fleeting statement that had flitted across the surface of the conversation: you liked eating oranges in the shower. Liked that nice, cool citrus sweetness in your mouth while the rest of your body was caught in the fall of warm water.

It’s such a small, tiny thing. Just the briefest lament—there are more important things than the fact you can’t have shower oranges any more, after all—and you’d forgotten you’d even mentioned it.

But Jungkook hadn’t.

It’s almost syrupy sweet, this orange. You savour each slice, pressing them between your teeth, feeling the rush of juice burst forth through the pith and skin, and it’s so good you could cry. 

You do cry.

Your mouth is full of orange and your eyes are full of tears and your head is full of—of—something, something so all encompassing that it overwhelms you, water cascading down the aching planes of your body as you crumple inwards. Jungkook had protected you with the overwhelming power of Bulletproof Striker, and he’s protecting you now, soft and considerate and kind, vulnerable and human. Stripped of tons of metal and technology, Jungkook wears his beating heart on his sleeve and is none the weaker for it. 

This seemingly small thing means so much, so so so much. You understand him, and he understands you too, knows that this gesture is indicative of support and care and nurturing, a tiny fragment of peace he can offer you in the tumult of everything out of your control. 

A tiny fragment of peace that’s part of a greater whole, all the things that Jungkook gives to you.

When the Marshalls gather you and tell you the plan going forwards, you’re unsurprised. 

It makes sense, of course. Four pilots down to two still leaves a pair, and Bulletproof Striker is nearly functional even if Cypher Zero will stay out of commission while she’s rebuilt. Simple maths. One Jaeger, two pilots. You and Jungkook.

You’re scared.

You know you’re Drift compatible. Every fight in the Kwoon Combat Room is evidence enough of that. A dialogue, each challenge is meant to be a dialogue to show physical compatibility, and it is: there’s perfect sync in how you each move to strike, even if your motions are so different, muscles burning and breaths coming faster each time you attack, parry, strike, block. It’s not about winning or losing. It’s a conversation, one that you and Jungkook fall into without thought.

And he would be the perfect partner. That much isn’t in doubt. Loyal and open and strong, honourable and brave and kind—and you know him, have grown to learn so much about this golden boy, this bright, brilliant boy. He’s fucking indomitable and anyone would be lucky to find themselves in the same Jaeger as Jeon Jungkook.

But there are no secrets in the Drift. 

To let someone in, you have to trust them. And you do, you do trust Jungkook, probably far more than makes sense, some unspoken thing between you burning like a wildfire. But while you trust him, confident in his strength and his heart, you trust yourself less.

You’ll be flayed open, naked and defenceless. He’ll see right to the core of you, every dirty corner of your crumpled soul, every shameful part of your foundations, uneven brickwork layered into your shaky temperament; strong one second, weak the next. He’ll see that you’re hard inside, too, biting and acidic right down to your shrivelled heart. This nascent thing that you’ve been building with Jungkook, been keeping safe in the cradle of your careful hands, will sputter out and die.

“Baby.”

Yoongi’s voice is comforting, a familiar rumble that rolls through your ears as you rest your head in his lap.

“And I mean that you’re literally being a baby,” he continues, and you curl your lip back from your teeth in a small snarl, menacing.

Yoongi just continues to thread his hands through your hair.

You’ve Drifted with Yoongi often and long enough to know how every thread of thought unspools in that skull of his. You know he has every confidence in the unshakeable pillar of your soul. He’s a brother to you, a connection that thrums deep in your veins even without the intimacy of the Drift, and the love you hold for him is undying and true.

But whatever you have with Jungkook is so timorous in the face of that.

“It’s different.” Yoongi looks down at the twist of your face. You know his thoughts and he knows yours too, your face and heart an open book to him. “But different isn’t bad.”

You keep your mouth shut, keep the words swallowed down in your throat, shoved down to the pit of your stomach. Keep it secret. Keep it safe.

“Baby,” he says again, softer, lower. This time, you know it’s an endearment. 

At the end of the day, no matter what fear grips cold and endless at your insides, you’ll do it. You’ll Drift with Jungkook. You’ll throw everything you have into the pyre, watch it burn and turn to ash, if it means you can keep everyone safe. To save Yoongi, Taehyung, Jungkook—you’ll open yourself up to the mortifying ordeal of opening up, laying yourself bare. You have to.

It’s chaotic, anyway. The day that your practice Drift is scheduled is the day the next kaiju rises out of the breach, that dreaded rift between our world and theirs, because why would you be allowed to breathe, even for a second?

It’s a scramble into the cockpit. There’s no time for trial runs or test Drifts. You fly or you fall. Everyone’s in a state of orderly upheaval as you’re suited up and left to stride forwards into a Conn-Pod that isn’t yours, in a Jaeger that isn’t yours.

(Left to stride forwards to stand next to someone who isn’t yours.)

Your Drivesuit is grey. Jungkook’s is white. There’s a subtle hologramatic sheen laid across the planes of his armour, leaving him a multicoloured vision that shines out under the flicker of the cockpit’s endless tiny buttons and lights. Your own suit is a matte, gunmetal with accents of burning scarlet, far more battered and worn. Dark and wild in the face of Jungkook’s radiance. He’s the perfect answer to the kaiju invasion. You, though, feel like an interloper in a space that wasn’t designed for you, this circle room that’s been home to Jungkook and his true, real partner. 

But he’s looking at you like there’s no one else he’d rather have by his side. 

He doesn’t care that everything about this moment just cements how he’s too good for you in every conceivable way, elevated above you. Doesn’t care that you’re just a temporary stop gap. There’s trepidation, of course, skittering nerves that dance across his face for this first Drift, surrounded by all the commotion that’s swallowing the world up outside the cockpit. But there’s also that fire in his eyes, one you’ve learned to expect: Jungkook is a wildfire and will surmount any obstacle in a blaze of white-hot light.

And he wants you along for the ride.

(Burns bright for it.)

“You ready?” He asks, and the tiny tremor in his words takes you off guard even as it soothes a balm over the rash of apprehension that prickles across your skin.

(Because he’s nervous, too.)

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you answer, truly.

His eyes crinkle into a smile, crescents of happiness as his lip peels back from his teeth. It should be jarring, seeing his sweet bunny smile in the pit of a Jaeger, so at odds with the military polycarbonate that girds his body with protection, the masculine edges of his face—but it’s not. The world is just a backdrop to Jeon Jungkook, dropping away as you fall into his eyes, twinkling stars of brightness and warmth that hold you safe, even now.

Peace and contentment steals over you. You’re almost shocked by it, the way your own face softens into a smile, the rising beat of your heart. Every ragged messy edge in you is smoothed over by Jungkook’s presence and you glow for him.

When the Conn-Pod drops, there’s the familiar weightlessness, the sway of your body in the harness as you fall. Anticipation roils through you as Bulletproof Striker’s head locks into place, whirring mechanisms securing you to nearly 2000 tons of metal, so much heavier than your own Jaeger. You’ve taken Jungkook’s usual place and he’s taken Taehyung’s, the right hemisphere, the dominant pilot, familiar with this machine in a way you’re not.

Not yet, at least.

“We’ve got this.”

Jungkook’s voice cuts through the noise, the AI talking at you, a narration of events you’ve long grown used to. You turn your head to look at him. He’s already looking at you, intent and sincere. Like always.

“Yeah,” you say. “Yeah, we have.”

There’s no point being afraid. In a few seconds, Jungkook will be in your head, washing over every part of you—and you’ll be in his, pressing your ethereal touch into every facet that comes together to make Jeon Jungkook who he is.

Seconds pass. There’s a little hitch in his breath, a stiffness to his limbs, and he shuts his eyes. You breathe in deep, deep, deep, sucking in a harsh breath into your greedy lungs—

—the timer hits zero—

—and then the Drift slams into you all at once, all encompassing and consuming, threading your minds together.

(Drifting with Yoongi is easy, the familiarity of coming home after so much time away.)

(But this?)

(This is throwing yourself into a cold lake on a hot summer’s day, bracing and refreshing and breath-stealing all at once, shocking life into every one of your limbs, so sharp and fast you’re scared you might drown before you breach the surface, water holding onto you and not letting you go. This is driving reckless and fast down empty roads, watching the world pass you in a blur, laughing in delight at the pleasure of it all. This is scaling a cliffside with nothing but your own hands and determination, digging your fingers into the unyielding rock, pulling yourself up-up-up, never letting yourself fall.)

(This is having Jungkook beside you. This is having Jungkook diving into the lake with all the grace of an Olympian before he rises to the surface, tosses his hair carelessly out of his face, and spits a mouthful of water at you with laughter in his eyes. This is having Jungkook behind the driver’s wheel, shifting gears without thought, looking away from the road to watch the way your hair dances in the wind. This is having Jungkook climbing beside you, waiting for you at the top, holding a hand out to pull you up and over so you can sprawl out beside him, exhausted and exuberant at the top of this mountain, basking in the sun with Jungkook just a hair’s breadth away from you.)

(He takes one look at you. He takes one look at all the dark of your memories, the cascading mess of your insides, the hidden things that are open to him in the Drift, cut open and peeled back for his gaze—and he doesn’t look away.)

(He sees everything, past skin and muscle and bone and nerves, even deeper, right into your heart—)

(—all the torrents that eddy the deep waters of your soul—)

(—and he doesn’t look away.)

(He doesn’t look away.)

(Can’t look away.)

(Doesn’t want to.)

(Never wants to.)

(Jeon Jungkook takes one look at you, your whole being, and he knows you.)

(And he doesn’t want you any less.)

It’s just a second, a flicker, a breath, this first connection in this Drift, falling into each other. But it’s also a lifetime, two lifetimes, four lifetimes; your memories, Jungkook’s memories, Yoongi’s memories in yours, Taehyung’s memories in Jungkook’s. Layers and layers and years and years piled over one another, a tumbling sprawl—but it’s easy. It’s easy, so easy, Jungkook seeing you, you seeing him, everything he is, everything you are, everything you are to each other, with each other, for each other. The important things. The things you need to know to navigate this together, in sync even before now, reading each other to a level neither had even realised.

And when you’ve killed the kaiju. When you’ve walked Bulletproof Striker back to shore, brought her back to the Shatterdome, back home, it doesn’t end. You lift out of the Drift, step out of your Drivesuits, as different as they are (as different as you are), and it doesn’t end. 

Jungkook’s eyes linger, as heavy as a physical touch, and even as congratulations for a successful drop are bandied about you, he doesn’t leave your side. He keeps his hand against yours—not intertwined, but brushing, the curl of his fingers against your own. Touching. You’re not the protector here. He’s protecting you, in a way that doesn’t leave you feeling inferior or weak. You feel soft and warm and small and safe, pulled inexorably towards him, supported, buoyed up, and you don’t feel selfish for it.

Because he wants this.

He wants to be your comfort and your support.

He doesn’t want it to end.

(You don’t want it to end.)

And when you finally break away from those crowds, released from the shackles of responsibility and expectation—when you’re finally left alone, the two of you with each other, there’s no hesitation when you come together.

He lays you out beneath him and has you sobbing, back arching into the pleasure he draws out of your body, playing you like a maestro. Because he knows you, after all. He knows exactly how to trail his lips across your skin, your neck and stomach and thighs, painting marks across your body like it’s his personal canvas. He knows exactly how to have you twisting underneath him, how to pull those pretty sounds from your lips, fucking you with his fingers and his tongue until you’re a shaking mess. He kisses you sweet, merciless, letting you claw at his skin as you beg for more, more more more, wanting it, needing it, wanting him, needing him.

And you know he’ll give it to you. He’ll give himself to you, give you everything you ask for. You know how he wants to see you fall apart and you know how to move your body to have him gritting his teeth and staring in awe. You know how desperate he is to worship you, to show you his adoration and reverence, and you open up for him, unfurl like a flower, dripping nectar. When he finally presses into you, hot and long and thick, it’s so good you could cry. You draw him in-in-in, into your body and arms and heart, pressing your lips to the sweat at his brow, the taste of skin and salt and Jungkook bursting across your tongue.

There’s no Drift here, no curl of memories and unspoken thoughts between you. It’s physical and human, the crash of your bodies against each other, skin on skin, the thrust of his cock pressing into the dripping folds of your cunt. It’s the other half of that connection, the final piece, this thing you have with Jungkook, this perfect balance you have with him. It sears itself across your body and into your soul: it’s pleasure and passion and devotion carved into each touch of your lips and fingers, each roll of your hips, each time Jungkook makes you cum, gasping for him.

When he’s finally come apart inside you, spilling into your willing heat as you shake beneath him, arms and legs wrapped around his body as you pull him as close as you can, unwilling to let go—it still doesn’t end. You’re so wrapped up in Jungkook, in his arms, his heart, and you know he won’t let you go, either. He presses his lips against yours, chases those kisses, quiet and chaste to open-mouthed and dirty as the mood takes you, and then Jungkook rolls over you again, a spark in his eyes as he decides he’s still hungry for you.

You know, now, that all that time ago, when you carved that space for him into your chest, he’d done the same for you. He’d laid his heart at your feet and waited there, kneeling, for you to accept it, patient and willing. Staring at you with all the deep love you never thought you deserved, never thought you’d receive. But here he is. Here he is, love burning in his dark brown eyes. Eyes that have seen all the damaged, aching parts of you and love you anyway.

“I’m yours.”

Jungkook shines so bright at your words, a supernova of joy. His smile is so wide and his gaze is so soft, for you, for you, for you.

“Everything I am is for you,” he murmurs, letting the words curl into the air, settle across your skin, sink deep inside your chest. Your eyes flutter shut as you feel this touch of him inside you, wrapped around your heart.

And when you lift your hands, he comes so easily. He presses his cheek into the curve of your fingers, lets you hold him, lets you cup those lovely cheeks in your palms.

“I love you,” he says.

Right now, in this instant, there’s nothing but him. No kaiju, no Jaegers, no crumbling world, nothing. There’s only him, and you, together.

“I love you too,” you reply—and when you smile, gentle and tender, Jungkook falls in love all over again.

Burns bright for you.

[river-bottom-nightmare]

when circ d’haleé stopped in central city for a couple days, dick wasn’t that phased. growing up travelling, visiting city upon city, they all began to run together. not to say that each city didn’t have its own particular charm, but he wasn’t particularly looking forward to central. though he had heard about the two superheroes central boasted: the flash and kid flash. now that was an exciting thought, but not a very likely one. 

they reach at night and rest, before starting preparations the next morning, getting ready to open their own little corner of magic to the public by the afternoon. dick had yet to start most of his jobs, choosing instead to perch on top of the ferris wheel, taking some time for himself. he loved the circus, he really did, but from his vantage point, he could see downtown central city, and he imagined all the people running about town. imagined each one of them, what their lives would be like. what his life would have been like if it weren’t so unconventional.

the attack came out of nowhere. the ray emitted by the cold gun was so much harsher than what dick had read on the news, and seeing a scarlet figure on the ground advance towards a cruelly laughing man, dick suddenly realized how real all of this was. the powers and magic seemed almost unreal at times, but the attack had thrown him off balance and had him falling, and as the ground comes closer and closer, unseen from the two figures fighting, dick was struck with the realization that these were actual people, and this was a true fight. he can't grab onto something, so he remembers all his lessons on falling correctly, tucking his body away and hoping he’s not going to end up to hurt to perform tonight. but right as he's about to feel impact, something whooshes him out of the air. 

he has a moment to process the world warping around him before everything lurches back into focus. he collapses on the floor gently, a hard body pressed against him, over him, protecting him from the barrage of ice chunks raining down. he glances upward and meets startlingly green eyes, bright red hair waving in the wind. a breathy voice asks, "are you okay?" and the man seems to be staring down at him with an equal amount of wonder in his eyes. dick manages to nod in response. the hero's hands linger on his body for a second, bone-deep warmer than anything dick’s ever felt, as though hesitant to leave, before rushing away. dick's left lying on the ground, windswept and out of breath.

dick tries to keep mind to performing during rehearsal. he knows concentration is important, he really does. but his mind keeps latching back to that mysterious man. the yellow he’d remembered retroactively meant one thing: kid flash had saved his life. well, probably not saved his life, there was a large chance dick would have survived the fall. but kid flash saved him from potentially getting hurt, so dick still counted that as a rescue. when the time for his solo performance comes, his “flying graysons” performance comes as easy to him as breathing. but then it’s time for his performance, for the thing that has, arguably, made him world famous. but as he steps onto the highest platform, back arched and arms up high, painted eyes and lips turned up proudly, its almost as if he can feel those green eyes in the crowd. the chance of kid flash coming to the circus to watch his show, though, is incredibly low, but it fills him with a sort of reckless daring and confidence that dick finds addictive. so even though it's for nothing, he puts on a show. he holds his poses showcasing his flexibility are a little longer, makes them a little deeper than usual. his flips are a little more daring, he catches himself at the very last second. he plays up his abilities as best as he can. he hears his dad remark what's gotten into him? but pays him no heed. he’s weightless, boundless, incredible. 

later, after dick's strapping some wrist support gloves on his hands, he feels a presence behind him, and turns to see a young man ducking into the tent. dick has no idea how he got past the rest of the crew, but something about those eyes filled with wonder make him hesitate. because he’s seen that wonder before.

“hi, uh, my name's wally" the man is awkward and stuttering and rubbing the back of his neck and nothing like the dashing hero dick met that morning. but the earnestness, that’s all there. "i just, well, i wanted to say that you were absolutely amazing out there." dick can tell wally starts to taper off at the end, falling silent since all dick's doing is staring at him, but he can't help but mentally catalogue to himself: same jawline, same generous spattering of freckles all over sun-kissed skin, muscular stature visible under all those layers, same adorable and bright red hair.

and so he cuts wally off with a "thank you." 

"for what?" 

dick smiles. "For saving me this morning." 

wally immediately flounders. it’s clear he did not expect dick to recognize him and his face flushes bright red. dick can see wally struggling to come up with a response, so dick decides to save him the trouble. he crosses the room in quick strides and draws the hero into a hug. wally's astounded for a second, evident by the way he stiffens, but is quick to hug back. dick’s almost blinded by wally's bright grin when he pulls away. there’s no way dick’s misreading this, so he puts a teasing lilt to his voice when he asks "i don't have anything except a performance in the afternoon tomorrow. would you like to show me your city?"

dick sneaks wally into the best seats in the house the next night, alone this time, unlike last time when wally told him he came with his aunt and uncle. the entire night, dick's performing for an audience of one.

and the great thing about wally being kid flash, a literal superhero, a “speedster” was what wally called himself, is that wherever the circus roams, wally will be able to follow.

me: stares at the 23 page long birdflash fic i’m working on me: nah lemme write this instead

this little ficlet was inspired, in part by the lost circus graphic novel, but largely by @sixofclovers​ ‘s absolutely GORGEOUS bombshells!dick fanart up there. rachel, if you ever see this, i adore your dc art.

tag list:  @comicsandhoney @birdy-bat-writes @elles-shitposts-personified @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @astroherogirl @yesboopityboop @dangerduckjpeg​

[insomniac-dot-ink]

Books I’ve Read in 2020

AHello! I’m trying to read as many books as I can during the quarantine, here’s what I’ve finished so far:

On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous by Ocean Vuong (literary fiction): a son writes a letter about his life to his illiterate mother. Breathtakingly beautiful with it’s way with words this book is lovely and real in the hardest and sweetest ways. The author’s combination of prose and poetry is dazzling and intricate, this book has stuck with me for days afterward. 4.5 out of 5 stars.

Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik (fantasy): a money-lender gets in trouble after bragging she can turn silver into gold and is kidnapped and ordered to do so by a fey creature. It may be that I am the perfect audience for this type of book, but it’s my favorite thing I’ve read all year. It’s a book that equally takes on the fantastical and real-world with compelling female characters at the center of the whole thing. A wonderful fantasy journey inspired by eastern-European Jewish folklore. 5 out of 5 stars.

Through the Woods by Emily Carroll (horror graphic novel): a series of short horror comics. Absolutely bone-chilling! This was a really fun type of scary story, especially the last one which made my skin absolutely crawl. Deliciously eerie, this was treat to read if not a little too short. 4 out of 5 stars.

The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake by Aimee Bender (magical realism): a young girl can taste other people’s emotions in their cooking and begins to understand her family in new ways. This was a weird book, but it has everything you’ve got to love about that combination of the surreal and mundane. It’s sense of character was electrifying and I had fun engaging with this type of off-kilter real world. I was a little frustrated in parts bc of some characters choices, but that too was true to life. 4 out of 5 stars.

Crier’s War by Nina Varela (steampunk fantasy wlw): about a Made automaton heir to a throne and her human hand-maiden that is trying to kill her. This was an easy read with a lot of tension between the two main characters that I liked, but the writing itself was very weak. There was waaay too much exposition in parts and the dialogue had some really hockey lines. I enjoyed the twists and turns in the middle of the book, but the beginning and end didn’t have much movement. 2.5 stars out of 5.

The Huntress by Kate Quinn (historical fiction): honestly, I’m a little disappointed. This book just did not hit my sweet spots, it wasn’t fast-paced enough for me to get immersed in the plot, and the characters weren’t real enough to be wholly invested in them. That said I adored Nina Markova and the Night Witches, so that did help. 3 starts out of 5.

The Dark Descent of Elizabeth Frankenstein by Kiersten White (horror sci-fi retelling): HAND IN UNLOVABLE HAND. A retelling of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein from the perspective of Victor Frankenstein’s wife and my God! The characters! The plot was well-enough, but the characters took the whole show for being complex and compelling. The main character was breathtakingly layered and I was wholly invested in Elizabeth and her story and the triumph at the end of this story was tangible. 4 out of 5 stars! 

Uprooted by Naomi Novik (fantasy): A story of a young woman who lives in a valley where a girl must go live with a wizard for 10 years. She is certain she won’t be chosen, but ends up having to be “uprooted” herself. I enjoyed most of this book! However, I think I liked “Spinning Silver” a lot more just because the ending of this one somehow lost me. The characters were good and plot compelling, but (SPOILERS) the big battle at the end seemed to drag and didn’t interest me somehow. 3.8 out of 5 stars.

Gods of Jade and Shadow by Silvia Moreno-Garcia (fantasy): excellent read! A story of a young woman in Jazz Age Mexico who goes on an adventure with a Mayan death God who is trying to regain his throne. A romp across the country absolutely brimming with likable characters and fairy tale twists. My only complaint would be that most of it felt a little predictable due to the fact we knew where we were going throughout the whole story, However, it was still greatly enjoyable for the heroine herself, Casiopea. 4 out of 5 stars!

Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng (literary): a story of two families in a progressive “planned” community, how their lives intertwine, their secrets, and a central question surrounding motherhood. Deeply empathetic to its characters and introspective, this is an every-day story of people in suburbia that reads like a thriller. I could barely put it down and felt deeply for its characters and situations, 5 out of 5 stars!

Wilder Girls by Rory Power (YA sci-fi suspense): a story of a group of girls at a boarding school on an island affected by the “tox” which alters their bodies in strange ways like giving them scales or an extra spine. This was an eerie, interesting read with a wlw romance! Watch out for the body horror in this one, but it was very gripping and held my interest. Some of the pacing was off in places (like the romance), but had a very creepy atmosphere that did it for me. 3.8 out of 5 stars!

If We Were Villains by M.L. Rio (thriller-mystery): A thriller about a group of Shakespeare actors in their last year of college and one of their classmates who turns up dead. I enjoyed the murder mystery part of this novel more than I expected despite the fact I had guessed who had “done it” pretty early on. I really enjoyed the James-Oliver dynamic with its growing homoeroticism, but I didn’t like how the character of Meredith was handled at all. She felt like a one-note aside. I might have given this book four stars, but the ending was EXTREMELY frustrating for me and I did not like the “open-ended” conclusion. 3 out of 5 stars.

A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman (literary humor): a weird character-driven comedy about an old grumpy man and a new family that moves in next to him. Warning for themes of suicide. Anyway, I don’t normally indulge in cliches like “I laughed, I cried, I loved one Cat Annoyance.” However, that’s exactly what I did. I laughed out loud, I cried my eyes out (THE CAT’S HEAD WAS IN HIS PALM), I loved this book. It was sweet and compelling and thoroughly immersive. 5 out of 5 stars!

The Ten Thousand Doors of January by Alix E. Harrow (historical fantasy): set in the early 1900s comes a story of a young girl and her experience with “Doors” that lead to different worlds. This book had a lot of great character development and really interesting descriptions, however, I didn’t like it as much as I wanted to. I found it hard to get myself to sit down a read it. There was just something missing with the push to “page-turn,” but it was still a really good book. 3.7 out of 5 stars!

Gideon the 9th by Tamsyn Muir (high fantasy, kinda gay): I AM FILLED WITH EMOTIONS. This was book was definitely a page-turner. I was very confused with it at the beginning, but the characters and their interactions were, forgive the expression, the life blood of the story and kept me wholly invested. The ending has CRUSHED my heart, but damn did I have a good time reading it. 4.5 out of 5 stars!

Harrow the 9th by Tamsyn Muir (sequel to Gideon the 9th): I really enjoyed this book. It was just as strange and twisting as the first book, though I think I enjoyed the first one a bit more since I love Gideon. It was fun ride overall, though the ending was kind of really confusing. So 4 out of 5 stars.

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo (historical fiction): Overall, I really enjoyed this book! The writing style was personable and grounded in reality. I found myself really liking the main characters and the exploration of the life of a bi main character was really well done I thought. A solid book with drama and glamor to boot. 4.6 out of 5 stars!

The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah (historical fiction): A story of two sisters during WWII and their resistance to Nazi occupation. To be honest, this book wasn’t my cup of tea. It was compelling, but also wholly depressing and I felt like gloried in the pain of the two main characters too much. The history was wonderful and realistic, but it didn’t make me feel anything good afterward. It was just dark. 3 out of 5 stars.

Red, White & Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston (mlm romance): I finally finished this after the heaviness of The Nightingale. This is a story of the First Son of the USA falling for the prince of England. And it turned out to be a very fun and light hearted read! Some of it was kinda generic and too political, and it coulda been shorter, but I thought the romance itself made up for it. It just made me feel so sweet and lovely inside. 4 out of 5 stars!

Anxious People by Fredrik Backman (literary humor): I’m searching out heartfelt books and this one ticked off all the marks on my “sweet” list. A lovely book that made me cry more times than I would like to admit. Compassionate beyond belief, funny and heartfelt. I think I enjoyed A Man Called Ove slightly more, but this book was also dear to me and something I hope to reread in the future. 4.2 out of 5 stars!

Station Eleven by Emily St John Mandel (sci-fi): A post-apocalyptical story about a group of traveling Shakespeare actors and a symphony. Overall, an excellent read that somehow pictures a more realistic or even softer version of the apocalypse. At first, I wasn't happy with the jumping around of the story, but as I progressed I grew fonder and fonder of the interwoven characters and their journey. A very fascinating read about a world that hits a little too close to home. The appreciation of the arts and preserving humanity was somehow very hopeful and I was fully engaged with this story. 5 out of 5 Stars!

Up next: The Hidden Life of Trees by by Peter Wohlleben (nonfiction science), The City We Became by N. K. Jemisin (urban fantasy), The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern (fantasy)

[zehecatl]

rec post for @f-eef that got too long for its own good, and is now just. a general rec post i guess

(as of writing, today is the steam summer sale! writing this before that goes live, so no guarantee everything on here is on sale, but! most of these are older games, so it’s likely. keep them in mind~)

- Iconoclasts my absolute favourite game, ever (along with OFF, but shh), if you check out one game from this list, let it be this one. it’s a genuinely almost flawless package, with gorgeous pixel art, fun gameplay, a really good story, and a cast of characters i just. adore. it’s so so so good, and three years later, i’m still not over it

- The Binding of Isaac so there’s this genre called roguelikes, wherein the whole gimmick is that, when you die, you gotta start from the Very Beginning; and the ‘point’ is getting better and better at the game, until you win! it’s super easy to just, play a few runs (they generally don’t last that long!), and then go on with your day, so it’s a really fun game to just waste time in, if you just wanna chill with some game. and, in my personal opinion, Isaac is the best roguelike game, with so much stuff to unlock, a whole slew of items to play with, and so much content it’s kind of unreal. i definitely think the DLCs are worth picking up, but it’s mostly for more content than like. actually being necessary

- Terraria it’s minecraft, but 2D. unlike MC, it’s got a bit of guidance, which i personally prefer, with bosses to fight and such. an absolutely BLAST with other people too

- A Hat in Time a 3D platformer, ala Mario, that’s just. super charming. it’s also really fun to play. i haven’t actually played the DLC’s, since i played it way back, but i’ve heard good things about Nyakuza Metro, which does look super slick, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

- Slime Rancher you are a slime rancher. you ranch slimes. it’s honestly just wholesome as hell, and just exudes happy vibes. mostly for running around and collecting slimes, ngl

- The Messenger really funky retro game, wherein you play a ninja on a mission. it’s primary draw is definitely in its gameplay, but there’s a surprising amount of story for this kind of genre? i honestly really just like this one. it’s neat

- Underhero you play as a cute minion, who kind of like. managed to kill the hero. and whoops, guess you’re doing his job now? it’s got that undertale vibe, though i’d say it’s less polished than it. HOWEVER, it’s absolutely lovely and it’s climax is REALLY good

- Hatoful Boyfriend bird dating sim. trust me. the ‘secret’ finale route is just. *chef’s kiss* fantastic

- Night in the Woods if you don’t mind having a very poignant sad time, oh my god, i could not recommend NITW more. it perfectly captures that period when you’re done with school, and suddenly your whole life is stretching before you, and you feel so so fucking lost, and overwhelmed and pained with it. it’s just. so good. a sadness worth experiencing 

- Shovel Knight another retro game! this one is, pretty much, the king of the genre, and for very good reasons. the first one (shovel of hope) doesn’t have much story, but the latter ones really add on it. they’re honestly just, really solid games! with funky knight characters!!!

- Hyper Light Drifter man, it’s just a masterpiece. everything about it is perfect. it’s been like, five years, and it’s still one of the very best indie games

- Tell Me Why it’s currently free for june! and it’s a story game! plus, if you like the genre, the devs got the ‘Life Is Strange’ serie(s) to delve into!

- Cat Quest honestly, i just really like this little game. the gameplay is SO much fun, and everything else is just. really charming :’)

- Yoku’s Island Express metroidvania, where you play as a dung-beetle post officer, and the gimmick is that it’s pinball-y! it’s really fun, and very cute and just an all around good time :)

- Owlboy you play as an owl boy! named Otus! and you can fly around, and there’s GORGEOUS pixel graphics, and a neat story, and just. the BEST cast of characters. it’s delightful

- Yuppie Psycho + Count Lucanor just gonna bundle these two together, because they’re both REALLY GOOD. YP is the newer one, and is therefore probably ‘the better one’, but i like them both a ton! they’re 2D horror, but i wouldn’t say they’re that spooky? though that might just be because they’re pixel games! you explore spooky place, and weird stuff happens around you. just a really fun time :)

- Angels of Death my FAVOURITE rpgmaker game, it’s main draw is, a 100%, the main characters and the relationship that develops between them. i just love it a whole lot, and it’s got that lil’ tinge of horror that i, personally, fucking adore. there’s actually an anime based on this, but i haven’t seen it myself!

- Celeste curve ball! it’s a 2D platformer! it’s really good, got a ton of accessibility features, and has like. the tightest gameplay- and, on top of that, surprisingly emotional story! 

- Bastion putting Bastion here, because it’s actually the only one i’ve properly played, but you could probably buy any of the Supergiant Games, and come out satisfied. Bastion is the oldest of the bunch, and is definitely a bit less polished for it, but i personally adore it; the gameplay probably hasn’t aged that well, but i think the story and presentation more than makes up for it

- The Darkside Detective funny point and click adventure, with great wit, and a pair of characters i kind of simply adore. it’s main draw is definitely its humour

- Littlewood very wholesome and chill farming game, that feels more like an RPG than something like stardew valley- i’d not recommend it over SV, but if you want more of SV, Littlewood might scratch that itch!

- Pony Island + The Hex absolutely adore both of these, though if i had to rec only one, it’d probably be Pony Island? they’ve both got that undertale-off vibe, though Pony Island definitely leans harder into it. very interesting plays, both of them

- Oxenfree another horror-ish game! primarily story-focused, but oh boy, what a story! i’m a BIG fan of this game, and the sequel was recently announced too! definitely worth a look if you like ghost shenanigans

- Creature in the Well wasn’t a 100% sure if i should rec this, but beside the finale boss, i really enjoyed my time with this! it’s this weird pinball inspired hack and slash, with some amazing vibes

- Kindergarten 1 + 2 they’re just fun little games okay. the 2nd is much more fleshed out, but the 1st one is really fun too

- the Henry Stickmin collection I JUST... LIKE THESE GAMES A LOT... i think you can find the old versions somewhere on the internet, if you wanna check them out first? idk, they’re fun!

- LIMBO + INSIDE personally, i like INSIDE more, but both of these are classics, and also they’re made by a danish team, and i like them a WHOLE LOT

- The Final Station i could not tell you why i like this game as much as i do, but oh my god. i love this game? it’s got a dying world, neat pixel graphics, big zombie apocalypse vibes, and a weird little story

- Year Walk i love Year Walk :)

- Smile For Me if you liked undertale’s lovely cast of characters, oh boy, you’d likely LOVE this game! it’s really, really, fantastic, and the epilogue (not in the actual game lol) hit me right in the feels

- Pikuniku just a fun little game! there’s not really much there, in the grand scheme of things, but it’s a wonderful little play, one of those games that just sets out to give you a good time, and absolutely success. i like it a lot :’)

- A Short Hike wonderful game, where it’s more about exploring the island than actively finishing the game. it’s real wonderful

- ULTRAKILL ANOTHER CURVEBALL! no idea if you like FPS, but oh my god. ULTRAKILL is so fucking good. just an absolute blast to play. there’s a demo to check out, and i’d definitely recommend it, because if it’s a genre you might like, you’ll love this one (OH also it’s in early access, which means it’s not finished yet! personally, i don’t mind that, especially considering this is more gameplay focused, but ya’ know!)

- My Friend Pedro it’s honestly just really fun to play, and sometimes i still think about the implied lore, and go all !!!!

- Little Misfortune another point and click! this one is pretty short, and is set within the same universe as their other game, Fran Bow, which is much bigger, but idk. i like this one. it’s dark cute

- This Strange Realm of Mine i honestly dunno how to explain this one, because it’s kind of weird and a bit odd, but i really like it, in all its weird poetic glory. it’s neat!

- Donut County you’re a terrible racoon who’s ruined the whole city with holes. it’s great and i love it

- OneShot another ‘gives me undertale vibes’, though this one was in development before UT, if i recall correctly! it’s so good, and it’s got some fantastic meta bits, and i love Niko. i love Niko so much

- Inmost gorgeous vaguely spooky game with a neat story... my favourite genre

- Sayonara Wild Hearts i’d call this more of a spectacle than anything else, but oh my god. what a spectacle it is! the OST is amazing, everything about it just hits right, and even if you suck at the gameplay (which i did), it really doesn’t matter, in my opinion? it’s just great all around!

[ahgaseda]

enough | one

even if everyone else leaves me, you’re enough for me, you’re my only one, stand by me forever, only you, just you...

summary : to survive as a single woman in the big city, you resort to letting rich men pay for your company, but never anticipated that your first client would be the boy you once loved, Jinyoung.

warnings : strong profanity, explicit dialogue, references to prostitution, mentions of gang activity, graphic sexual content, potentially triggering elements involving mental health, panic attacks, etc.

miniseries chapters : one / two / three / four / five / six / seven

“Sorry, Mom,” you apologized under your breath as you stepped into the warm, bustling hallway of the agency. The building may as well have been your second home at this point, considering you spent most of your free hours under its roof.

Your place of business lay hidden beneath a layer of secrecy, operating within the guise of an illustrious marketing firm. After all, prostitution was still very much illegal. But evading the law in such sparse times had become an undeniable artform for creatures of the underworld.

However, you had yet to jump from that hyperbolic bridge. Until today. Hence the apology to your mother.

Being an escort that didn’t have sex with her clients had allowed you to earn enough to survive. Men paid for your company, nothing more. They took you to candlelit dinners or upper class events, because in the world of preternaturally rich people, having a gorgeous slab of meat on one’s arm was a blatant demonstration of funds.

Also, if the society they ruled knew who they actually slept with, their careers would be over as quickly as they began.

When you first came to the big city from your humble hometown in the countryside, you swore to yourself you would never sell your body to make a living - no matter how comfortably you could thrive if you did. But keeping your head above water was no easy feat and you were thrust back into the bottomless pit of debt and insecurity.

Seoul had become more and more expensive around you and you could feel the sensation of water rising over your head, drowning you in the hopelessness of it all. Your hopes and plans for the future were costly and the bank refused to grant you any more loans.

Then, you were reminded that sex sells. You had the advantage of being a woman in a world of ravenous men. Your employer had always given you the option of stepping into darker circles when you needed more. You met every criteria on the checklist of powerful, wealthy suitors.

Who needed dignity anyway? It was but another luxury you could not afford.

“We have just the client for you,” explained Seokjin, predictably diplomatic when discussing every dirty detail of his illegal business arrangements.

You were more than grateful and certainly never faulted him for it. Seokjin was a remarkable boss, especially considering his line of work. He had spent more than his fair share of time on the streets from a young age and he grew to provide individuals a safer, more regulated way of earning money the only way they knew how.

“He’s new,” Seokjin added, breaking you from your reverie. “Never hired before. Specifically asked for a virgin.”

“I’m not a virgin, boss,” you deadpanned, inevitably daydreaming of the one man that had ever known how it felt to be between your thighs.

How many years had passed since you last saw him? Four or five, maybe. In your mind, you tried to play clueless with yourself, but truth be told, you knew the exact day you left him down to the very hour. The bitter memory was fresher in your imagination than recalling what you ate for dinner the night before.

Seokjin twirled a pen through his knuckles before resuming his notes. From what you knew, he preferred to document everything in excessive detail. That was the lawyer part of him. Knowing that your own employer had worked his way from streetwalker to successful attorney and business owner gave you a blossom of hope for your own future.

“I’m referencing your lack of sexual activity with any of your previous clients,” Seokjin clarified, his tone level. “You have served as a public escort, not private. Emotional, not sexual.”

You nodded your understanding, already missing the simpler days that would soon be forgotten to you. Though life had abandoned most of its simplicity since you moved to the big city. Weighted under the gravity of your decision, your thoughts drifted back to that fateful morning when everything changed forever.

The rain had poured from the blackening sky and you were relieved the drops would conceal your own tears. Thunder roared with a vengeance and drowned the shouts following you as you leapt into the truck that would bring you to the city.

Your boyfriend had been a step or two behind, slamming his hands on the door and begging you to stay with him at the top of his lungs. You watched him through the window, apologizing over and over in a pitiful chant. His yelling turned to pleading and desperation, and when the truck drove away, he chased behind it.

Eventually, you lost sight of him in the rainfall as you sobbed uncontrollably. You could only imagine how long he had spent running after you.

Seokjin called your name tenderly and you blinked back to your surroundings, shifting anxiously in your seat in an attempt to rouse yourself. Meeting his gaze, you made some off-handed comment about lack of sleep, but to a man whose entire survival had once completely relied on the sharpened skill of reading people, you were an open book.

“You don’t have to do this,” he lamented, sympathetic. “The women that choose this path, do so because they want to. Clearly, you do not.”

Your experience with sex was narrow, that much you were certain. Given you had been out of the metaphorical saddle for almost four years, you wondered if you were even remotely good at the act anymore. The only partner you had ever known was heavily biased, in your opinion.

You recalled how it felt to ride him, wincing at how hard he could grab your hips while he begged you to slow down just a little, afraid he would blow his load too early. Getting off on the heady feeling of power with how easily you could ruin him, you would giggle and quicken your pace, grinning with victory when you felt him shudder with release beneath you.

“No, I do,” you insisted, readjusting your position in the chair at your unclean thoughts and the way they made your pulse throb. “I do, honestly. You know I wouldn’t waste your time unless I was sure.”

Seokjin sighed, recognizing the signs of someone who had made up their mind. After a short pause, he diverted your attention and asked, “How is school?”

“Good, actually,” you chirped, delighted he would opt to change the subject to something less heavy. “The general requirements are all done which means I can spend more time focusing on my major.”

“You’ll make a great doctor,” Seokjin crooned, sincere. “I just know it.”

You smiled. The compliment and vote of confidence warmed your very soul.

Seokjin wasn’t obligated to smooth your feathers. He was your employer, but he also served as a confidant and friend to those who needed him. You were the type of girl that never should have darkened his doorway, but life forced your hand and rather than accept defeat, you clawed a path over every obstacle you faced. Seokjin admired you for that and recognized you as someone that reminded him of his own tenacity.

Noticing you had relaxed, Seokjin gave you a reassuring simper before returning to business, informing, “There will be a function tonight. Lots of powerful people will be mingling and your new client will be present. I can have you added to the guest list and you can meet him, but only if you feel ready.”

You appreciated the fact your first meeting with the client would be in a crowd full of people. A man willing to pay for his own personal sex toy must have been a low-down dirty bastard, you surmised. Frankly, you were terrified to meet him, expecting he would see you as an object to possess and not a human being capable of pain.

The saving grace was you had unshakable faith in Seokjin. He screened every client personally and had a zero tolerance policy toward any form of abuse. Plus, he employed some of the most no-nonsense bodyguards you had ever seen. Your personal favorite was Hoseok. He was number three on your speed dial and your emergency contact on all medical forms at the university.

“Just like that?” you questioned, skimming over the document Seokjin pushed toward you. It was puzzling to you - how easy sacrificing a part of your soul would be. You naively expected some bells and whistles.

Seokjin hummed an affirmation and responded, “There’s absolutely no commitment to do anything physical with him tonight. He will be made aware as well. You have to agree to a contract of consent with him established by this agency because money is involved, similar to the ones you have had before. Tonight, you simply meet him, get to know him. Then, in the morning, you give us your answer as to if you wish to proceed.”

Signing your name on the page, agreeing to an initial evaluation with a potential client and swearing not to engage in any sexual activity with him until a contract had been signed, you acknowledged, “I understand. Thank you.”

Your employer accepted the document and slid the page into your file, tucking the folder away into his locked drawer. With that business concluded, Seokjin laced his fingers together over his desk and mentioned with a smile, “The event tonight is formal. I suggest you buy a new dress. Use the company card. We will add it to his bill.”

You chortled and stood to leave, shaking his hand and saying, “Pleasure working with you, boss.”

Seokjin rose and squeezed your fingers. “As usual, the pleasure is all mine.”

Making the long, arduous trek to your little apartment, you kept your head lowered, eyes on your shoes and every labored step you took. You wondered how many days from now you would be heading home in a walk of shame. Tears threatened behind your eyes, but none appeared. Your reserves were empty from the amount of crying you had done over the past few weeks.

Not long after you departed the agency, you came to a stop before a large stone building with a courtyard set in the center. Surrounded by well-trimmed hedges, students glided in and out.

The medical school you hoped to attend within a year or two was a massive, daunting building, but you had seen the inside during a quick tour and knew the place to be modern and professional and - in your humble opinion - warm and welcoming. Excitement gathered in your chest at the sight and for a moment, you remembered the determination you kept stored deep down and tapped into the current for the remainder of the day.

Your father was a farmer. Your mother was also a farmer. All of your neighbors within a ten mile radius were - big surprise - farmers. You were born and raised in a little town surrounded by nature and you were taught to cultivate the land from a young age.

But your heart was in a hospital and had been since the first time you were able to speak to your physician during a routine annual check. You told him you wanted to treat the sick and to your surprise, he encouraged your dream with a smile.

From that moment on, your mother rebuked you for wanting to abandon the family tradition of agriculture, as she called it. People like you and her were never meant to aspire to anything greater than the hand life dealt them, she said.

Your father, on the other hand, secretly fueled your plans at every turn. For your tenth birthday, he bought you a stethoscope which became the most sentimental item you owned. It was one of the few things that had survived your journey to the city when you ran away.

The town you came from left much to be desired. Once a simple place for hard-working residents, machines and modern advancements turned an entire way of life on its edge. Soon, your home became a breeding ground for gangs, using the rural, poverty-stricken lands for a perfect nest to hide from the law and conduct their devious affairs. Name any contraband and it was run through your streets; guns, drugs, and even women. Anything and everything was available for the right price.

Not much time passed before everyone came to recognize a simple principal: you either got in the gang or the gang got you.

You couldn’t abide by that and you would rather leave than accept it. Your heart yearned for the simple life of those that came before you; the straight and narrow path of working hard with your hands while earning your education. Without any options, you ran and turned away from your home, never looking back. And to your dismay, the big city was even more ruthless.

But you couldn’t go back. It wasn’t a matter of pride... it was the boy you left behind. You couldn’t come home and see the devastation left in your wake. Even your own family had broken all contact with you when they discovered you sold your body as an escort for wealthy men. No matter how many times you tried to convince your parents you weren’t sleeping with these people, they didn’t believe you. And you couldn’t blame them.

They didn’t know you anymore.

What you quickly learned was the city was no different from your little town except the stakes were higher. You had much farther to fall. The players in such a dangerous game were ruthless and influential and walked in plain sight without fear of consequences. You had heard the other girls chatter about the clients they regularly entertained and how deep they were in when it came to the illegal way of life.

You had most certainly jumped from the frying pan and into the open fire.

These same men meandered through the room you entered that evening, themed with gold and maroon for the elegant fundraiser. A few took long, lingering glances at you, shameless with their intentions as their eyes hovered far too long on your ample curves. You paid them no mind and made your way to the bar.

The gown you wore for your first meeting with the potential client was sultry purple. “A statement of royalty,” the dressmaker had exclaimed when you tried it on. Of course, she would say nearly anything while trying to entice you to spend a lump sum on one of her pieces. Given the money wasn’t coming out of your own account, you had no qualms when it was time to swipe the company credit card.

Hell, this man would more than likely be fucking you in the near future. He could splurge for a dress.

The thought made you overthink, as you often did, and you sipped your wine while you sat at the bar. From what your forthcoming coworkers told you, selling your body to the right man was a gold mine that surpassed security and landed in excess. Most spoke of riding a man so good the reward was a luxury car or a penthouse apartment overlooking the city.

You tried not to be disgusted, but it was a rebellion against everything you had been taught about respecting your body. You never thought you would reach this point in your life - putting a price on your own head to survive.

“Hello, beautiful,” greeted a husky voice at your side, an older man offering you a glass of bubbling champagne.

Jolting from your internal monologues, you turned and bowed your head politely, speaking your greetings shyly. A shudder of remorse tore through you. Would this be your future? To be owned by a man who had accrued enough wealth to feel he was entitled to your body as he pleased?

Briefly, you remembered the boy who had stolen away your heart. The boy who was patient and gentle with you at every turn. The same boy who was always tempted to fight any man who didn’t give you the respect he felt you deserved. Damn it, you knew he would hate you for what you were about to do.

“Don’t ever let another man touch you,” he had whispered in your ear once while taking you against a wall.

Soaked to the bone from an impromptu dive in the neighborhood lake that quickly devolved into a tangled mess of limbs, your boyfriend lost any and all patience when you begged him to soothe the ache between your thighs from his hot, wet kisses. You cried out his name softly as he held your hips and bounced you up and down to meet his thrusts, filling you with his cock and making stars appear behind your eyes.

“I won’t,” you swore against his neck, gasping for breath and locking your ankles around his waist.

He nipped at your jaw then, groaning in the back of his throat at the scorching heat of you around him, and growled possessively, “Because you’re mine.”

Fire gathered behind your cheeks, clouding your head, and you blinked rather rapidly as you tumbled out of the memory. God, you had almost forgotten how good he felt, skin against skin. No man would ever make you feel that way again, not that you had even given one the opportunity. You had tasted paradise and no one else could ever hope to compare.

Reminding yourself to pay attention, you focused your gaze on the visitor offering you a drink, realizing rather quickly he was not your prospective client when he failed to utter your designated alias. Clad in a fitted suit, the man introduced himself by his position and holdings and then proceeded to flirt borderline aggressively. The moment you could cut in between his words, you graciously told him you were expecting someone. Offended that you dared dismiss his entitled ass, he rose from your side and stormed off, taking the untouched glass of champagne with him.

You exhaled to release your irritation, drumming your manicured nails on the counter and resting your head on your free hand. The longer you waited, the more you wallowed in indecision. Could you really go through with this?

Suddenly, your phone rang and you pulled the vibrating device from your clutch. Your brow furrowed when you didn’t recognize the number, but you answered anyway with a rushed, “Hello?”

“Did that bastard really take the drink with him?”

You chuckled at the annoyance in the stranger’s voice and glanced around to see if any of the men at the fundraiser could be holding a phone to his ear.

Finding no one on their mobile, you nodded and replied coolly, “Yes, he did, but I prefer my wine anyway.”

“Is that so?” the stranger rumbled. “Hand your phone to the bartender for me.”

You narrowed your eyes in surprise before calling the pleasant server behind the bar over. Giving him your phone, adding that you were as clueless as he was, the server chuckled at the caller and echoed after a moment, “Your tab? Got it.”

You took your phone back from his outstretched hand and purred, “Very generous of you, sir.”

The caller chuckled and persisted, “Anything you get goes on my tab and I took the liberty of ordering you a White Russian, if you don’t mind.”

“We have made the jump from wine to liquor so soon, have we?” you joked, thanking the bartender when he made the drink and slid the glass your way. “May I ask, why a White Russian?”

The caller took a sip of his own drink as he leaned leisurely against a pillar and mused, “You look like the type of girl to nurse one while you scan around the room for me.”

You giggled, amused. “Well, you’re in luck. They are my favorite.”

“Imagine that,” he sang, but you failed to hear the lack of surprise in his reply. “Take your time with it. You need to be coherent for this conversation.”

The assertiveness in his voice snared your attention, because there was something strikingly familiar about it. With a smirk, you rebuffed, “Are you implying I am a lightweight?”

The client chuckled ever so subtly and replied, “I would never insult your alcohol tolerance, but yes, you do strike me as one.”

“It seems you are right again for the most part,” you admitted, giving the room another glance over for participants on their phones and finding none. “If I start singing Fall Out Boy at the top of my lungs, I’ve officially reached my limit.”

This time, he openly laughed.

The sound registered deep within you, because this delayed sense of familiarity was growing stronger.

“Alright, pretty lady,” the caller asserted, steering the conversation with a firm hand though he sounded rather young and carefree to your ear. “What is your game?”

You shrugged nonchalantly and returned, “I’m not playing any games.”

Abandoning his hiding place alongside the pillar, the stranger was quick to interject, “You most definitely are and I’m more than ready to play with you.”

You wanted to be ashamed at how effective his banter was thus far. You found yourself biting your lip and resituating on your bar stool. The rush of flirtation was pleasant, foreign to you after so long. Personally, you greatly enjoyed verbal sparring and rarely could someone hold their own against you.

Glancing at your glimmering fingernails, you sighed as if in deep contemplation, “Life is merely a game in the grand scheme of things. Isn’t it?”

He hummed an agreement before offering, “As are relationships between people.”

“I agree.”

“I like to hear you agree with me,” he confessed lowly, voice dropping an octave.

To which you replied, “You are easy to agree with, sir.”

Then, he quickly veered back to his easy-going and flirtatious manner to whisper, “I’m still trying to get a read if you’re submissive or if you just try to appear that way because you think it’s what I want.”

You swallowed nervously, viscerally reminded of the situation you were in. Harmless flirting had been fun, but now you remembered why you were here in the first place - to be someone’s plaything. To be used and used until nothing was left of you.

At your conflicted pause, the caller coaxed, “I’ve spooked you, little one.”

You came back to your senses and stuttered over your words, “No, I, uh...”

“Take a breath and sip your drink.”

You obeyed without a second thought, welcoming the liquor and swallowing a mouthful. Your conscience was too strong for this, but the duality of him had you snared like a wild animal lured into a false sense of security. He balanced adeptly between hot and cold, reeling you into a disarming sensation of safety before trapping you in his clutches. Because all the while, you knew he was a dangerous man and yet he made you brush aside your instinctual fear of him.

“Well, well, well, you are a bit submissive,” the stranger taunted, obviously pleased at how mindlessly you had heeded his order with no resistance or snark. “But you’re skittish.”

“Am I?” you sassed skeptically, glancing around with narrowed eyes. “Are you an expert on me now?”

He tsked his tongue and muttered, “And there’s that little streak of fire. I like it.”

You flushed. Your mind raced at the thought of your potential client. He had a way with words and he clearly enjoyed the banter. It seemed he wasn’t intent on just bending you over a surface and having his way with you.

He wanted to play.

Rising from the bar, you tucked your clutch to the inside of your arm and carried your drink, still holding the mobile to your ear. As you glided across the marble floor, you scanned the room for men on their phones, ready to hunt.

“You know what they say about playing with fire,” you smarted, words hushed.

He chuckled and sounded as if he were also in motion, potentially avoiding your gaze. With a smirk, he asked, “Are you going to burn me?”

“I might,” you replied boldly. “But I get the feeling you would like it.”

“You’re right about that. How the tables have turned. Are you reading me?”

You snickered, licking your bottom lip before sipping your drink. After swallowing the alcohol, you exhaled and asked cautiously, “Can I be honest with you?”

He nodded, slinking behind a pillar, and spoke almost sternly, “If anything between us goes beyond tonight, I want you to be honest with me always.”

That response surprised you and you didn’t bother to hide it. For all his potential danger, he didn’t instill in you a feeling of maliciousness. You were becoming less and less afraid of him. “I appreciate that,” you finally told him.

“Hit me.”

Stopping in your tracks, you turned on your heels, surveying the upper decks in the massive gallery, and inquired, “Why do this?”

He growled, “Why pay a woman to fuck me?”

His blunt words sent a shiver through your body. This man didn’t carry much fear, that you could tell. You were intimidated by your potential client already and you hadn’t even laid eyes on him. Pinching your lips, you hummed, “Mm.”

“My job mostly. I can’t have a normal relationship in my line of work. And I’m not the type who should try,” he explained without hesitation. There was nothing dishonest or remotely offensive in the way he spoke to you, which made you wonder what kind of position your client held that would lean him toward this inclination.

But you remembered something he said previously and turned his words back on him when you remarked, “You’ve already brought up submission. I think you like the power balance this would give you.”

There was a pause. Then, he exhaled, “You’re right again.”

You smiled victoriously, taking a sip of your drink, and resumed walking across the room.

The caller chugged some of his own alcohol; you could hear the ice cubes clinking against the glass. “I know you’ve never done this before. I specifically asked for that,” he began, sounding piqued with interest.

“Yes,” you murmured, shivering at where this line of question might go, but knowing you had opened the door in the first place.

“Why are you doing this?”

Flinching, you felt your heart clench. For a moment, your mind showed you that hated memory - of the only boy you ever loved chasing you down as you scrambled into the truck. He beat both hands on the door and screamed those exact words to you at the top of his lungs.

Shaking your head to snap out of your thoughts, you played cool and echoed, “Why am I agreeing to let someone fuck me for money?”

He was entirely unaffected by your language as he said, “Yes.”

Frowning at the mental image of bills piling on your coffee table at home, you answered, “Because these are hard times.”

That was a valid enough reason for him apparently. “I hear that,” he rasped.

Pensively, you nibbled on your bottom lip as you walked through the sea of patrons, tasting the slightest remnants of the White Russian on your tongue. Accepting defeat when you still found none of the men on their phones, you asked demurely, “Any more questions, sir?”

Playfully, he chuckled and teased, “No, I just wanna flirt with you some more.”

You scoffed with a roll of your eyes and said, “I’m listening.”

“I’m watching the way you move,” he sang, drifting from his perch. “You’re beautiful.”

Spinning in a quick circle, with a simple statement you were reinvigorated to find your client and called with curiosity, “Where are you?”

Amused, he easily ignored you and continued, “You’ve passed through a crowd of people and everyone has moved out of your way. Did you even notice that?”

Glancing around to see a small empty radius around your presence, you whispered in disbelief, “No.”

It was time for him to take control. Monitoring your movements from above, the caller couldn’t help but lick his lips at the sight of you, at the way the violet gown hugged your curves and displayed your beauty in all of its glory.

Finishing his drink, he continued, “You walk with confidence. You’re assertive and commanding.”

Something was nagging at you, tugging on your instincts as you meandered through the crowd. Your mind had already solved this mystery, had already put the pieces of the puzzle together, but you were in too much denial to accept the signs.

The client moved to another shadow, noting your gaze kept passing over the gallery above, and taunted, “If I were any other man and I saw such a stunning goddess coming toward me, I would fall to my knees and worship her.”

“What a silver tongue,” you droned, feigning indifference. As a waiter passed by, you discarded your now empty glass on their tray.

“My tongue is ready to do things to you, sweetheart.”

You stopped, biting your lip again, and persisted, “You said, if you were any other man. Are you implying you wouldn’t bow down and worship me?”

He swallowed the last mouthful of his drink and chuckled, “You don’t fool me. I know what you are.”

Hesitating, you resisted the urge to be offended, but the feeling seeped its way into your voice when you asked, “What I am?”

Licking his lips like a predator on the prowl and moving in for the kill, he elaborated, “You’re a rare breed.”

Approaching the stairs to the overhead gallery, you tapped your fingers on the bronze railing and ordered, “Keep talking.”

“The world has made you strong and hard. You demand respect because no one has given it to you. Even when you’re afraid, you can convince everyone else in the room that you are fearless.”

Brow furrowed, you questioned, “And that’s rare?”

“You, my dear, are no lion. You are a lamb.”

You stopped, blinking in surprise. A glimpse of his face flashed in your mind and for a moment, the world began to spin around you.

He resorted to a guttural snarl as he continued, “You may try to convince the world you are the untouched goddess who needs no god, but behind closed doors you wanna scream and beg for Daddy to fuck you harder.”

Saliva had gathered in your mouth. You knew your client when he spoke in that tone, a tone you once knew so intimately. The years had made his voice deeper, more mature and roughened by the cruelty of life experiences.

But you angrily cursed at yourself for not recognizing him until now.

At your lack of a reply, the stranger pressed coyly, “Am I close?”

A memory tore across your mind of the man who once called you the love of his life, the way he held your face and told you he would never leave you. You remembered how raw and firm his voice had been when he promised to fight every battle that needed to be fought to keep you safe.

Hands shaking, your voice broke when you choked, “Jinyoung?”

For the first time since the call began, there was only silence on his side of the line.

The absence of an answer served as confirmation and you furiously shouted into the phone, “Jinyoung!”

“Took you long enough.”

Before you could utter another word, the call went dead.

next chapter →

a/n : this story was previously Lacuna on my old blog, minheoney. I’m really excited to finally finish it! This fic was my baby for so long and I’m ridiculously happy to give it a new home :)

Hey there, beautiful! If you enjoyed this, please leave a like or reblog or follow me! Or maybe buy me a coffee so I can keep writing? Or check out my masterlist here for more stories! Thanks for reading :) - Katya

This work is fictional and for entertainment purposes only, but is licensed and protected under a creative commons attribution-noncommercial-noderivatives 4.0 international license. Any instances of plagiarism will be dealt with accordingly. Do not re-post or translate without my permission.

{ copyright 2018-2020 © ahgaseda // all rights reserved }

[imma-fucking-nerd]

Retribution

(Connor x Reader)

⚠️TW: Graphic descriptions of death & Suicide⚠️

A/N: im sorry in advance for the angst that this fic will be. I went down a rabbit hole of slowed sad songs :')

——————————————

It had felt like years since the last time he saw your face. Your smile. The way the corners of your eyes creased when you laughed. God how he missed that sound. It never failed to make his artificial heart skip a beat. Sure, he could replay a memory of you laughing but it just wasn't the same. It would never be the same. Because whenever he would replay one good memory of you, it would always be spoiled by his last memory of you.

The way your gorgeous (l/c) lips that always curled into a smile crafted just for him, quivered and turned a cold blue. The words that fell from those perfect lips that were nothing but kind, had turned into desperate pleads. How your beautiful hair that suited you so perfectly, clung to your face as the rain poured down onto you. And finally, your bright and captivating (e/c) eyes that were glossed with hot tears, betrayal, hurt, fear.

You were so scared. Terrified, even. But he didn't care. Not when it mattered anyways. He pressed the cold steel of his gun to your forehead and pulled the trigger without a second thought. Actually, that was a lie. He did feel a sense of hesitation when he met your eyes. That almost made it worse, didn't it? Because he went through with it anyways. He didn't have a choice, he told himself. He was just a machine back then. It was Amanda who was the real murderer. But none of those excuses soothed the guilt that consumed him.

It was his fault. He was the one that stole your life away from you. The one you trusted the most in this world. He knew what he meant to you. He knew that you would let him take you to that abandoned warehouse no questions asked. It was all too easy for him. He wished that you had been more suspicious, wished you hadn't trusted him with your life, wished you fought back.

But you didn't fight back. You didn't even attempt to for the possibility of living another day. You knew Connor never failed his mission. Instead, you tried your hardest to make him realize he didn't need to do this. That he was more than a machine, a tool used to do the humans dirty work. You told him he had so much more value as a person. You told him you loved him. But your words didn't get through to him. Not until it was far too late.

Now those words were all he could hear. Over and over. He hated it. He hated the guilt. He hated the grief. He hated himself. He just wanted it all to stop. The memories, the feelings, everything. It was all too much. But he knew it was nothing less than he deserved. He was a murderer. A monster.

Because not only did he kill you in cold blood, he left you there. Left your body to rot in an old abandoned warehouse where no one would suspect your corpse to lay. To decay and be eaten away by whatever vermin was lucky to come across you. He didn't even give you the decency of shutting your eyes. Letting them stare lifelessly into the distance until they were eaten away.

After he became deviant he returned to that warehouse. Your body still in the same place, same position he left it. If he were human he would have barely recognized you with how nature reclaimed you. But he did recognize you. He remembered everything. Ever painful detail replayed infront of him as he stared into the empty sockets of your eyes.

The image that was now stuck in his mind forever made him sick. If he were human he was sure he'd never be able to keep anything down again. But instead, he just had to live with that clenching feeling in his biocomponants. The suffocating feeling of his actions coming back to haunt him.

Hank, the only other person who gave him a chance, lost his last game of russian ruellet a few short weeks after the android confessed to his greatest regret. He foolishly thought that when Hank's eerily calm reaction meant there might have been a small chance he could be forgiven one day. That maybe he wasn't alone. But when he walked into the old Lieutenant's home and spotted his blood splattered kitchen he realized how wrong he was.

You were practically like a child to Hank. Sure you annoyed the living fuck out of him, but he really did care about you. He even cared about Connor in his own way. But once he heard the news that you were dead. Murdered. By the very android he would have proudly called son. He fell deeper into his depressive state. Deeper than ever before. And not too long after, he joined his family. Leaving Connor on his own.

It felt like he had killed Hank too. Maybe it wasn't him who pulled the trigger, but it was him that took something so special away. Yet again he was the one responsible for the loss of another irreplaceable life. It was his fault. The only people he would ever realize he loved were dead because of him. Because he was too stupid to realize his fucking mission didn't mean shit.

So there he sat, next to the spot where your body used to be. It had long since been cleaned up, buried in a nice cemetery. A place he would visit daily and talk to your gave as if you could hear him. Waiting for a reply that would never come. He looked down at the revolver in his hands, the same one Hank had used. The same one he would use.

Connor popped out the chamber, a single bullet in one of the eight slots, and gave it a spin before flicking it back in it's place. He pressed the cool metal under his chin and pulled the trigger.

Click

His LED was burning a crimson red, a colour it never seemed to shift away from these days. He continued his action of spinning the chamber again, returning the barrel under his chin.

Click

Flashes of your eyes, your face, replaced the image of the dreary warehouse surroundings. He hoped maybe he would see you again as he continued his game of one man russian ruellet.

Click

God how he missed you. Missed Hank. He never really realized it in the moment, but you were hilarious. A small, bittersweet smile made it's way onto his face as he recalled one of your jokes. The chamber spun once again, before clicking into place and the barrel returned under his chin. He never realized how much he loved you. He wished he got to tell you. He wished he realized it sooner.

Bang

———————————————

A/N: lowkey on the verge of crying over this shit THANKS A LOT ME. Sad Connor is NOT okay and I am probably going to go write a fluffy fic ASAP to feel better.

[queenk00k]

but what if we were pure gold all along? jj maybank (chapter 4)

Summary: After the assumed death of their best friend, the Pogues are falling apart at the seams. With Pope and Kiara getting closer and JJ left with nowhere to go, he finds himself left to his own devices. Feeling lost and rejected, his luck seems to turn when he meets Scarlett - a Kook who doesn’t treat him like shit and has an affinity for partying. JJ gets sucked into her world as she promises to help him forget.

How much longer can he keep running from his demons? And what happens when he starts sharing a bed with one?

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, child abuse, angst, sexual content, drug use, underage drinking.

Author’s note: Hi all, this is my multi-chapter fic I’ve been working on. My oneshots & Rafe series have taken off so I thought it was time to share this one too. Let me know what you think!

Word count: 2K

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

the one where JJ makes his choice pretty clear

After two weeks of spending almost every waking minute with his new friend, JJ is starting to wonder if he’ll be able to keep up with her for much longer. Scarlett’s appetite for debauchery and disaster was insatiable and despite JJ’s best efforts to slow her down (“why don’t we just get lunch?” “why the fuck would we do that?”), she seemed intent on showing JJ a good time, Kook style.

After the initial night at Scarlett’s family mansion, where JJ climbed in her bedroom window like some sort of roughed up Edward Cullen and they drank their way through her mother’s gin collection, it had become a habit of JJ’s to seek Scarlett out at any opportunity. Not only was she the only person who seemed to want to spend time with him, something JJ was still reconciling, but God was she fun. Scarlett took quickly to riding on the back of JJ’s dirt bike, sharing a joint and even had a go at shooting JJ’s gun (a short lived adventure, since a firing mishap caused JJ to leap to the side of the yard to avoid losing a pinky toe). Scarlett was easy to spend time with, a breath of fresh air and a reprieve from the drama and darkness JJ had been experiencing when he last saw the Pogues.

Who, by the way, have still neglected to get in contact with him.

JJ has been holding onto false hope. He’s swinging between complete disbelief and hurt that his friends haven’t spoken to him in two weeks, and almost blinding rage that he apparently means so little to them. He doesn’t often have that much time to dwell on it though, since every time he’s remotely upset or quiet as a result of his former-but-the-jury’s-still-out-on-that friends, Scarlett is there to pick him right up and distract him in all the ways she knows how.

They spend most of their nights drinking on the beach or at Scarlett’s house, where her parents are never really around, since JJ swore up and down that he was never going to a Kook party with Scarlett. She had tried to convince him to no avail and gave up pretty quickly when JJ pointed out Rafe Cameron would most likely be in attendance, since he wasn’t even trying to lay low after literally murdering someone, and JJ was not going to be held liable for any injuries he may cause.  So they settled for each other’s company – sharing joints that JJ taught Scarlett how to roll, stacking beer bottles, going on late night motorbike rides and in one instance, seeing how easily they could blow something up. It didn’t take much convincing for JJ to change his phone background, the cracked screen now giving way to a photo of him and Scarlett messing about on his bike.

Simply put, JJ is trying his best to forget about the whole “one of my best friends is missing and presumed dead and the others don’t even want to talk to me” situation.

Scarlett is a nice distraction.

It helps that she’s gorgeous.

JJ isn’t stupid, he knows he’s spending time with someone absolutely beautiful and at times he struggles to understand why she would want to slum it with him. He’s not immune to how soft her thigh is when it brushes against his, or how her smile always reaches her eyes where the skin around them creases as she laughs, or how cute she looks with her dark hair tied up. JJ figures she must think something of him too – he notices how her hands linger longer on his waist when he brings his bike to a halt, how she’s affectionately started calling him Jay, and he certainly hasn’t forgotten how Scarlett kissed him on the cheek as he left her house last night.

JJ is as shocked as anyone would be that he’s started hanging out with a Kook, let alone calling her his friend and admitting to himself that he finds her hot. He’d be stupid not to, he is a sixteen-year-old guy after all, and she’s a stunning rich girl with a pert ass and deep brown eyes. He’s only human.

--

A knock on the front door of the Chateau brings JJ out of his reverie and he swings his legs around to hop off the couch where he’s been lying for the last three hours. After another late night at Scarlett’s the evening before, JJ somehow made his way home to crash on the couch to get some sleep before Scarlett was due to come over.

JJ runs his hand through his messy blonde hair and pads over to the door, yawning widely as he pulls it open. Scarlett is standing on the porch steps, dressed in her usual sundress and holding two six packs.

She lifts both arms up in excitement as she says “Jay! Long time no see!”

JJ shakes his head and smiles softly to himself, stepping aside to let Scarlett walk in the front door. She twirls dramatically as she crosses the threshold and makes a direct beeline for the fridge, bottles clanking as she shoves them onto the shelf.

JJ follows her and leans against the kitchen doorframe, accepting a bottle of beer and popping the cap off with his sharp incisor.

“Welcome back, Scarlett. It’s only been, what, ten hours since we last saw each other?”

Scarlett rolls her eyes. “What, you got something better to do?”

JJ laughs hoarsely as he replies, “you know the answer to that.”

Scarlett bumps her hip into his as she squeezes through to doorway and winks at him. “I need to sit down,” she says. “I’m beat.”

JJ adjust the front of his shorts and grimaces. It appears he needed to relax too.

He makes his way to the living room with a half full beer bottle, the condensation coating his fingers and making the neck of the bottle slippery. JJ notices Scarlett has already downed one drink and is making some good headway on her second, before he decides to tilt the bottle down and away from her lips.

Scarlett glares at him and purses said lips, and JJ fights the urge to stare at them, forcing his eyes to remain locked on hers.

“What did you do that for?” She asks, looking grumpy.

JJ thinks she looks cute.

He shrugs. “Maybe you could slow down. It’s 3pm,” he replies.

“Hair of the dog,” Scarlett says as she completely defies JJ’s suggestion and finishes her second bottle, letting out a small burp as she does.

“Oops,” she giggles.

JJ sighs but he’s not mad, not really, and he lets Scarlett know by patting her on the knee, resting his hand there for slightly longer than necessary.

“Drink up wuss,” Scarlett says, winking at him and JJ would be stupid not to do what she says, so he downs his beer too and cracks open another one.

Scarlett is scrolling through her Spotify and trying to get it Bluetooth connected to the old speakers next to the couch (JJ has told her before that it won’t work but she’s stubborn, alright, and insists on trying), and JJ is sat in quiet contemplation on the couch when a sharp knock on the door reverberates through the room.

Scarlett’s head snaps up, her top bun bobbing as she turns towards JJ, eyes wide.

“Who’s that?” She asks. They weren’t expecting any guests.

“Shit,” says JJ, standing up and placing his beer on the floor. “It’s probably my Dad. Fuck.”

“Your dad? What is he doing here?”

JJ shakes his head and presses a finger to his lips. “Stay here, do not come out under any circumstances, you understand? I’ll talk to him for a bit and then hopefully he’ll fuck off, but if anything happens, just go out the back door okay?”

Scarlett narrows her eyes in confusion. “And just leave you here? No way.”

Another series of sharp knocks, this time more urgent.

“Scarlett, I don’t have time to argue. Just tell me you’ll get out of here, okay?”

Scarlett looks like she has the time to argue but nods anyway. “Okay.”

JJ steels himself and sets his jaw as he cautiously walks down the hallway and opens the front door.

It’s Kiara and Pope.

JJ blinks slowly. “What are you doing here?” He says abruptly, skipping the pleasantries.

Kiara looks at him, bemused. “No ‘hey Kie, nice to see you?’”

JJ scoffs. “No offence, Kiara, but I’m not too sure you deserve that right now.”

Kiara opens her mouth to respond, ever the hot-headed one, when Pope has the right idea to butt in.

“We missed you man; can we talk?” He says, fiddling with his cap.

JJ steps out onto the porch, leaving the door slightly ajar. “Yeah, we can talk. Where the fuck have you been?”

“It’s complicated-”

“-I couldn’t see you-”

“-it’s been really hard for us-”

JJ has to laugh at that one, and he turns to Kiara, eyes ablaze with fury. “It’s been really hard for you? Are you fucking kidding me? YOU LEFT ME! ALONE!”

Kiara steps back from JJ, as if she’s scared, and Pope brings his hand to the small of her back to comfort her.

“Come on man, there’s no need-”

“Where were you, Kiara? Why didn’t you talk to me?”

Kiara’s dark eyes fill with tears and her chin starts to wobble. “JJ, you know my parents, they had me on lockdown-”

JJ can’t believe what he’s hearing. “You could see Pope.”

“He’s my boyfriend JJ, and you’ve always known what my parents think-”

Pope has the good grace to stay quiet and let them at it.

“So what the fuck am I then? Huh?”

JJ wouldn’t have noticed Scarlett sneaking up behind him if it weren’t for the sudden hardened look in Kiara’s eyes.

JJ spins around, jaw clenched, as Scarlett asks, “What’s going on here?”

Kiara’s mouth drops open. “A Kook, JJ? Seriously? You’re fucking a Kook?”

JJ’s mouth opens and closes as he struggles to reply. “I-we’re not, we’re friends-we aren’t-”

“This is unbelievable,” Kiara spits. “I thought better of you JJ.”

Scarlett stares Kiara down, folding her arms across her chest.

“She was here for me, Kiara! You weren’t! You were NOWHERE TO BE FOUND! Some fucking friend you are!” JJ shouts.

Kiara looks like she wants to stay more but she decides against it as she simply mutters “unbelievable,” and throws her hands up, walking away.

JJ’s chest heaves and heart pounds with adrenaline as Pope looks at him apologetically.

“Man, I’m sorry, I have to go too, she’s my girlfriend-”

JJ cuts him off. “Whatever man; just leave. You’re good at that anyways.”

Pope looks hurt but simply nods at JJ and turns to run after Kiara as she stalks down the driveway, long cardigan flowing behind her.

Scarlett sighs and places her hand delicately on JJ’s shoulder, and it takes everything in him not to lean into her touch.

“Drink?” She says.

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