#twilight elementary au

[treasure-goblin]

Lu Elementary School AU

Bus Ride pt. 1 (ft. Wild and Twilight)

“Wild, come on. We have to go.”

Wild kicked at Twilight as he tried to hold on to the front doorknob as if it was his only hope for salvation.

“No! Don't wanna!” Wild yelled as Twilight carefully pried his small fingers off the doorknob and picked him up easily. Wild screeched indignantly, thrashing around as he was carried to the bus stop like a sack of potatoes.

Wild had been going on the bus with Twilight for a while now. Mama and Papa were too busy in the mornings to take them to school, and that Wild understood. He usually liked the bus, too. It was fun and bumpy, and he got to say hi to the nice bus driver, Mr. Hudson.

But today was different. Today, Twilight was going to try out for the soccer team. He had been talking about it all week. That meant Wild had to ride the bus alone.

“You messed up your shirt.” Twilight sighed, straightening out Wild's polo and tucking some stray hairs away. Wild sniffled, holding Wolfie to his chest and hiding his face behind the stuffed animal. Twilight, for all his 8 year old wisdom, had no idea what the problem was. How could he, Wild refused to tell him.

“Wanna see Ms. Mipha today?” He asked, trying to lift Wild's spirits. Wild's ears perked up against his will. He nodded, scrubbing at his eyes.

“And you want to see Rulie and Sidon, right?” Twilight asked, smiling.

“Y-yeah.” Wild said softly, a little smile on his face at the thought of his friends.

“Aaand, you wouldn't want Mrs. Rhondson to miss out on her hug from Mr. Hudson, would you? You're supposed to give a hug, remember?” Twilight teased, poking Wild's cheek gently. The little one gasped, looking horrified now. He couldn't let his favorite teacher not get a hug!

“We-We-We h-have to go!” Wild cried, pulling on his backpack and stuttering over his words in his haste. Twilight laughed and helped him get the straps on and held his hand as they waited.

“There you go!” He cheered, smiling as he saw the bus approaching and Mr. Hudson waving to them with a smile. Wild's fears were temporarily forgotten, and that would have to do for now.

Wild hopped up the bus stairs and hugged Mr. Hudson tight, a big smile on his face.

“Well hello there, Wild!” Mr. Hudson laughed, hugging the 1st grader back. “Happy to see you, kiddo! Remember what you have to do?”

Wild nodded his head eagerly and ran back to his seat, wiggling as he waited for Twilight and waving to Sky. The sleepy boy rubbed his eyes and waved, then held up his bird plushie and made it wave its wing. Wild giggled and held up Wolfie, waving its little paws in return.

Twilight sat next to him and put down his backpack, buckling Wild in and then himself.

“Ready for Mission Hug?” Twi asked. Wild nodded again, looking like a little bobblehead and kicking his short legs happily as he imagined how happy Mrs. Rhondson would be when she got her daily hug. It was a temporary fix, but it worked for now.

Masterlist - Pt. 2

Divider by @/cafekitsune

[pubbybutch]

FRIENDS IN THE DARK - Chapter 1

Ellie Williams x Reader x Abby Anderson - TWILIGHT AU

Word Count: 6.1K+

Content Warnings: Uninvited Visitors, parents being proud of you, USE OF Y/N, nicknames (from parental figure), motor vehicle accident, being chased/hunted, Ellie-Abby beef, Abby having beef with Mel, Abby in general in this tbh…

Men, Minors and general fuckheads DNI 💚

The prologue can be found here

Jackson, Wyoming. It’s a quiet town. The sort of town where nothing ever seems to happen. Surrounded by hills and woods, people who are born there eventually move away nine times out of ten, those that do stay have been there for generations and can’t escape the monotony of the town. It’s the kind of town where one is never rudely awakened. Especially on the weekend.

The morning after your first night in Jackson, the nearly eerie silence that seemed to descend across the valley is broken so abruptly that the thundering noise can only be described as strange, forcing you to wake early and not due to your body clock. But to a heavy handed knock on your front door, maybe choosing the room with the front facing window was a bad idea but you’d made your bed now all you had to do was lay in it… well a you put a mattress on the ground and had to lay on top of it, but that’s besides the point. Throwing a fleece blanket over your shoulders you peek out the open window, stood there was a girl. You lean on the window ledge and poke your head further to try and see her better, but with little success, only being able to gather that she was blonde with an extremely impressive shoulder span.

Shrugging into your jeans from the day before, you quickly get down the stairs to answer the door, the blaring of the radio from the kitchen explaining why your mom hadn’t answered the knocks. As you stand in front of the door, you smooth the creases in your shirt from having slept in it last night and pull the doorknob.

Blue eyes meet yours and a small smile comes to her face. “Hi. I’m Abby, I live across the street." She tilts her head towards a rather impressive two storey house with a vintage Chevy out the front. You pause for a moment looking towards where she motioned but thankfully catch yourself and open the door wider, “Wanna come in?” She nods and steps in as you close the door behind her. “I’m Y/N, by the way. Mom’s in the kitchen if you want?” Politely Abby nods and follows behind you as you head into the back where you push the door and find something akin to a bomb scene. Amid pots and pans, silverware and slow-cookers, stands your mother with her hair tied out of her face with a bandana and beads of sweat amassing on her furrowed brow.

“Mom. Mom! MOM!”

“Huh? OH, GOOD MORNING SLEEPYHEAD!” She turns and twists the volume down on the little portable blue radio, “Who’s your friend, doll?” At this Abby extends her arm towards your mother and shakes her hand, her grip is firm and confident, “Abigail Anderson, ma’am. I live down the road.” They continue to chat as you lose yourself in thought…

It’s the name that causes you to stop in your tracks, shattering your coherence. Wait- this is Abigail Anderson?! The same Abigail that was your first kiss in elementary school at eight years old?! The same Abigail that braided your hair at recess in the school yard? The same Abigail that always swapped half of your peanut butter and marshmallow fluff sandwich for half of her chicken salad sandwich? The same Abigail that hugged you so tight that last day of school, whose tears had made your shoulder damp and you held each other one final time before you left Jackson for what was supposed to be forever… Abigail- Abby. She’s all grown-up now, you suppose you have too, she probably didn't recognise you for that very reason just as you hadn’t clocked on to her. Looking at her as she talks to your mom, her hair is still the same dirty blonde more golden than hay-like as it had been but it is confined to a braided prison that falls over her shoulder and onto her shirt, a shirt that does nothing to hide the fact her shoulders are so toned and broad how she’s clearly built an incredible amount of muscle. The freckles up her neck are new, maybe from the summer sun. And they trail up to her ears, little golden brown flecks and her eyes piercing blue, glacial and bright. Further down her face her mouth is moving, and she’s looking at you- She's talking to you. Oh fuck. OH FUCK-

“Sorry, I lost my train of thought… what was that?” Shit. Count on you to sound so fucking ditsy, but at least she’s smiling, maybe she likes bimbos. Wait why would you think that-

“I was asking if you needed a lift to school on Monday? You’re going to Johnson-Bailey High right?” Abby’s trying to start a conversation and you can’t even think straight.

“Oh yeah, I am.” Awesome, common ground to start from again, “Are you going into senior year too?”

“Yeah! Hopefully we’ll have a class together,” She’s moving from her spot on the breakfast bar, and is dusting herself down, “well, I’ll leave you to get sorted out. Call me if you need a hand with those tables and boxes?”

Your mom is wrapping her arms round over Abby’s shoulders to hug her as the blonde girl attempts to make it to the door, and you’re left following behind the pair. “Thanks for coming over Abigail, please tell your father he’s welcome over anytime and you are too.”

“I’ll see you later, Y/N?”

“I’ll see you later, Abby. It was nice seeing you again.”

“You too, really nice.”

As you close the door you walk away as Abby waits outside the door for a few moments, mumbling under her breath, before jogging away of her own accord. Meanwhile your mother returns to the kitchen, you in tow.

“It was nice for her to offer you a lift, make sure you thank her on Monday.”

“I will, mom.” And boy you wish you could do more than just thank her.

The rest of that Saturday breezes by, from unloading the moving truck to constructing the newly purchased ikea furniture, with your hands full the whole day you never even notice how tired you are until the your head hits the pillow on top of your now put together bed, the Friday night’s mattress now having a place to rest, your phone on your nightstand and plugged in to charge buzzes with a notification just as you’re dozing off. You decide to check in the morning. Despite your tiredness and complete willingness to fall asleep, something keeps you tossing and turning. A burning sensation, like someone holding a lighter too close to your flesh. Pulling the quilt over your head eases the feeling a bit, enough for you to finally fall into a deep rest.

When you wake on Sunday morning at a far more reasonable time than the day before, you pick up your phone, finding all that's displayed on the screen is the time. You could have sworn that you’d gotten a message last night but brush it off.

That Sunday morning and afternoon follows a similar path as the previous, unpacking the boxes and shuffling around mini mountains of clothes and kitchen ware. It hadn’t occurred to you in the chaos of the past two days that you had school starting that next day, the weekend had been rattled through so quickly that both you and your mother hadn’t had time to rest - the rest that the weekend would serve you under normal circumstances, but these weren’t normal circumstances. Abby had come over around noon, said she was coming back from a jog and left you her mobile number for the morning. You had forgotten that she’d offered you a ride.

Pushing past your mothers relentless teasing of ‘oh you’d be so cute together’ and ‘such a pretty couple’, you finally get her to back off with a sharp “Mom. I don’t know if she’s even into girls.” With your mom now quelled at least partially, you hide in your room opting to sort through the boxes of your personal belongings.

By the time books are on the shelves and the majority of your clothes have been tucked away into the closet that sits to the left of your bay window, it’s late. Like super late, 11:45 isn’t that late you tell yourself initially but then remember that you should be up at 6:30 at latest… Deciding that you’d be best sleeping immediately you text Abby as you crawl into bed to check that her offer of a ride still stands and much to your relief it does. With clothes for the morning on the desk beside your full and definitely heavy backpack, you feel confident enough in your preparations to set your alarm. Abby will pick you up at 8:00AM with that thought in your mind you drift into a contented sleep, small smile on your lips.

The alarm sounds and your phone vibrates on the nightstand, you wake with a most unhappy groan spewing from your mouth. You definitely should have gone to bed earlier. Steam and hot water provide your achy muscles a modicum of relief as you soak in the spray of the shower, the water pressure is definitely better here. Getting dressed, you look outside the window relief rushing over you as the morning is misty and overcast but for the first time since Friday night, it’s not raining.

You greet your mother as she comes out of her bedroom, dressed in her casual wear. “There’s some cereal in the cupboard and milk in the refrigerator, but I’m going to get groceries after talking with the doctor.”

“Are you not feeling good?” She shakes her head, yawning while trying and failing to speak at the same time. “You’re trying nursing again?”

“Hey! I’m good at it, plus it’ll pay more than waitressing or being some retail assistant.”

“Fair.”

You sit at the table, scrolling through your phone. While checking your tumblr a knock at the door snaps you from your passive scrolling, the digits on the corner of the screen read ‘07:53’. Abby likes to be early. Noted. Leaving the spoon and bowl to clatter in the sink, you snatch your backpack and throw it over your shoulder before yelling a hasty ‘Bye Mom!’ to your mother through the front door from the front porch.

Abby waves at you from the bottom of the driveway, her posture is relaxed as you open the car door and drop down into the seat.

“Hey, you ready to go.” The blonde looks to your face firstly then to the backpack at your feet and finally back to your face once more, meeting your eyes.

“Ready as I’ll ever be?”

She smiles at your answer but doesn’t mention why as one hand puts the car in drive and the other pulls at the steering wheel. Her stance never changes from the calm, confident and collected aura she exudes. The small talk she makes is pleasant, the little tidbits of information the two of you exchange quickly help you re-establish a bond and the twenty minute car ride goes by in what seems like a blink of an eye. Her dad hadn’t remarried since her mom had died, she was captain of the lacrosse team, she’d broken up with her boyfriend 3 weeks before you’d arrived because she found him cheating on her. It was nice to talk to someone other than your mom, and boy did it help that Abby was easy to talk to.

Pulling into the large gates and red brick walls that bordered the grounds of Johnson-Bailey high school, Abby parks the car up in a section set aside for the seniors. The school looks much less intimidating than it did when you were younger, the brick carries on from the walls and makes up the exterior for the front school building but the extensions and external gym building juxtaposes the classic red brick with their stark white and metal make up. Hundreds of grumpy teens and even grumpier teaching staff mill about the front of the school, reluctant to be back to normality following the summer break. It feels normal. Normal is good.

Abby waves goodbye to you as the assistant principal singles you out and pulls you over. Standing next to the finely dressed lady (‘Miss Dandridge’ she had said) is a very pretty girl, thick curly hair tied back from her face and light makeup enhancing her dark features. She introduces herself as Nora, and your personal ‘buddy’. Despite the forced friendship aspect of the introduction, Nora is extremely likable as she makes small talk and gives you a quick tour of the school building on your way to your joint home room. Opening the door, Nora heads to the back of the room and sits in the spare spot next to a familiar blonde.

Following the lead of Nora you move further into the classroom and find a seat next to a tall Asian boy with the floppiest black hair you’ve possibly ever seen. He leans over and offers you his hand, “Jesse. You new?”

Taking his hand, thankful for him approaching you first, “Yeah, Y/N. I’ve just moved back.”

He smiles, “Well, it’ll be nice to have a fresh face ‘round here. Jackson’s a bit shit, to be honest.”

You laugh at his seeming ‘down to Earth’ness and continue talking with him until the man that had previously been sitting at the teacher’s desk gets up from his spot and the scraping of chalk against black board alerts you to his shift in demeanor.

“Good morning, Class S-1. I hope you had an enjoyable summer, I’ll be your home room tutor and your English teacher. My name is Mr O’Bri-”

The door opens and a girl comes in a heavy blush on her face as she rushes past and sits down at the desk directly in front of you and Jesse and as she scurries around, fixing herself in the seat Mr O’Brien locks eyes with the girl. “Dina, see me after first period.”

“Goddamn it…”

Aside from the initial interruption of the Dina girl, the period passes swimmingly. And the one after that, and the one after that. The day continues smooth and steady as a drumbeat and lunch rolls around before you have time to realize. Following the stream of students into the cafeteria, you look around and spy Nora and Abby sitting beside some other people in letterman jackets around a circular table in the corner, after a small amount as you approach the table. Abby gives you a smile as you approach, pull a chair out and sit down. You breathe a sigh of relief as Nora introduces you to the rest of the table, a few guys and a couple of girls. There’s a tension you immediately pick up on a few side glances between Owen and Mel, deciding to ask Abby about it on the ride home at three thirty you keep your voice down and occupy yourself with the mystery meat in a hamburger bun.

The lunch is pleasant and the company is definitely the cause of it being so. As you find yourself walking back to class with Manny, the brown haired boy keeps you in chat as you head towards the physics classroom. Manny sits behind you as the teacher instructs you to sit along the benches each row separated by gender.

There are no familiar faces in the room, but as class drags on you feel a burning sensation at the back of your head. That’s familiar, but you can’t place why or where from. Looking back at the rest of the class, green eyes meet yours. They’re burrowing into yours as you struggle to break the contact. You finally snap back to reality with a nudge from Marta who’s sat beside you. You clear your throat and try to ignore the churning in your stomach as you can still feel the pine needle eyes stabbing into your back. As the bell rings, you rush to your final class. Throwing the notebooks and pens haphazardly into your backpack, charms around the zips clinking together in your attempt to make a quick get away. You don’t notice as one of the button badges on the front of the bag pops off as you fling a strap over your shoulder. But she does. Her eyes lock onto the cute little smiley face pin. Long fingers wrap around it and slip the accessory into a jean pocket.

By the time the final bell rings to signal the end of the school day, you’re relieved to say the least. The flushing of students towards the front of the school and out to the parking lot sweeps you away until you’re in front of Abby’s car, waiting for her to show up. To be fair to her, she had warned you that would most likely be running a bit behind the rest of the student body as the coach would be looking to talk to her. And as it was currently twenty to four, she was turning out to be correct. Nora walks past and waves as she hops into her car, a little green fiat. Abby can’t be too far behind as Nora was a part of the lacrosse team too. Scrolling through your phone, enjoying the screen time for the first time since lunch, you get lost in the endless dopamine hits the silly little TikToks give you. You’re completely in a world of your own when a poke to your arm shocks you. And there she is. Staring you down once more, is the green eyed girl from Physics.

She says nothing as she sets her longboard on the ground allowing herself to slide a long, bony hand into the front pocket of her baggy jeans, the belt seeming more of an accessory than a functional piece of clothing as it does nothing to support the denim laying loose around her thin hips, you get your first good look at her the auburn shaggy bob she has frames her face nicely if not causing her to appear a even more gaunt than her skinny, pale frame already is, the freckles across the bridge of her nose and up her cheekbones are comparable with constellations. Pulling her hand out of the pocket you see she’s holding something, something small and sentimental. She holds it out for you to take, “here,” she says and you take it hesitantly from her. You meet her eyes again, they’re still looking at you with as much focus as when you had your first encounter. You give a soft, nervous smile, “Thanks, where did you-”

“WILLIAMS. FUCK OFF.”

Abby’s voice booms out across the empty parking lot. You turn on your heel to look at the blonde as she moves at great speed towards you and the other girl, Williams… it must be her last name. As Abby comes to stand between the two of you, the slight warmth to the auburn girl’s eyes vanishes. She backs up and pulls the skateboard away with a slight yank of her leg, one foot rests on it allowing her to rock back and forth giving an air of arrogance to the smaller girl. “Easy! Down girl,” this elicits a guttural rumbling from Abby, “I was just returning something.” Abby lunges towards the skinny girl but you grab the blonde’s arm and pull her back. In comparison to Abby this strange girl was akin to a rag doll, small and frail looking in your eyes. The skater girl takes this as her chance to back up and she does.

“Watch it, Williams. You better fuckin’ watch it.” Abby calls out after her as she moves away towards the backgate of the school.

You reach out and meet a muscled shoulder with your hand as your touch causes Abby to snap back to reality. She opens the passenger side door for you and lets you get in before hopping around to the drivers side and sliding in. The journey home is quiet and tense. Turning your head to face the blonde, she answers your question before you even finalize it in your own mind. “Nobody, nobody good anyways. She is trouble. She will always be trouble.”

“Why’s that, Abby?”

“Bad breeding, at least in my opinion.”

She clicks the knob for the radio and music starts wafting through the car easing the tension as Shania Twain comes out from hiding in the speakers, as the karaoke begins any tension is washed away with the titters and giggles of pure unadulterated fun.

Abby drops you off at yours before pushing on towards her own home. opening the door you find the house empty and devoid of life, letting your backpack lay up against the breakfast bar you spot a yellow sticky note on the worktop, ‘Got some groceries. Snakes Snacks are in the pantry. Got an interview for the hospital. Love you, Mom.’ With a fistpump of celebration, you poke your head into the pantry only to see it much fuller than nine hours ago. Thank god. Grabbing a cereal bar you go upstairs and get stuck into your homework, this keeps you occupied for a few hours until eventually the front door opens, closes and the scuffling of shoes being cast off and relegated to a corner tells you your mom is home. “Sweetheart! I brought take out!”

With a fist pump and silent cheer, you close your laptop over and chuck your history textbook to the end of your desk. The Oregon Trail can wait, you’ve got chinese food to eat. “Comin’ now, mom!” You yell whilst running down the stairs, stepping into the kitchen you see your mom holding a plastic bag with several takeout boxes inside. “You grab plates and I’ll get some drinks, then we can have a TV dinner and you can tell me all about your first day?” Your mom suggests as she is already head and ears into the refrigerator, poking around for some cans of soda.

The flickering of whatever late night chat show is on the screen makes for ambience as you spill the gossip of the day to your mother, her face is nothing short of comical as you tell her about the tension between Owen (your mom laughs heartily at the description of him you give, of his hair being a dirty blond hedgehog with his eyes being too close together, like an opossum,) and Abby. The strange girl that had returned your pin. You even mention joining one of the clubs at school.

“Sweetheart,” your mom starts, “can I talk to you, adult to adult?”

You nod and panic flashes across your mind and definitely across your face, but your mother doesn’t seem to catch it and looks relieved.

“I’m glad you’re being so open. I was scared… I was very scared about coming back. And when your dad…”

You keep quiet, letting her ramble and fumble through her words as you watch as she becomes more and more lost in her mind before you wrap your arms around her, comforting her, soothing her worries, bringing her back to earth with a few words,“I know, mom.”

She sobs into your arms, tears wet your shoulder leaving your t-shirt damp and darkened on one side. She cries long and hard until she eventually falls asleep, grip on you loosening as your mom loses consciousness. You wiggle out of her grasp, take the blanket from the back of the couch and throw it over her, placing a kiss on her forehead you move to the kitchen and do the dishes. The street lamp light doesn’t reach this far around the side of the house but the moon is enough to at least not leave you to stare into an abyss of total darkness, the tree line starts about two hundred and fifty yards from the back porch and you watch as a fox pokes its head out from the brush. It makes its way across the portion of grass that makes up your backyard before stopping dead in its tracks. The dishes are forgotten as you watch the small canine look around panicked. It quickly sprints back into the green foliage and it disappears from view.

Getting back to the dishes, you finish the chore quickly and choose to make your way to bed, turning the TV off on your way while making sure your mother hasn’t woken up. She hasn’t.

Returning to your room, you see that you’ve left your laptop open and your books are still scattered about the desk. Taking one look at the half finished homework, you close the laptop and stash it away into your backpack. “That’s enough of that,” you mutter under your breath.

Stripping and getting dressed again for bed, you crawl in under the covers and settle down for the night. Turning over onto your side you see the curtains in The corner of your room flutter as though there was a light breeze, it’s then that you notice the window cracked open a few inches. “Fuck me…”

Feet meeting the cold floor you scuttle across the room and close the window completely, good and tight. Hopping back into the warmth of the various layers of quilt and blankets, you’re asleep as soon as you close your eyes.

The days in the valley town turn to weeks with nothing strange or startling to really speak of. You seem to be getting more forgetful lately. Your things are seemingly shifting about your room. You’re probably just being silly and misplacing things, at least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself.

The high school lacrosse season has started and Abby had tried her best to rope you into joining the team, but with the absolute disaster that was tryouts you’ve come to the realization that sitting on the bleachers cheering on your friends (new and old) is definitely the best place for you.

Abby had let little tidbits of information slip, about how Owen was her ex and left her for Mel and how she’d later come out as bisexual as a result of the relationship disintegrating. The confirmation that she was into girls had you internally kicking your feet, punching your fists and screaming until your throat was so raw that it could bleed, but you decidedly keep that to yourself. The little crush that had completely taken over your mind, Abby crawling into every little crevice that wasn’t taken up by school or the various relationships you’d been establishing or reestablishing.

You’d grown close to Dina again, her boyfriend Jesse by extension. Dina is… talkative to say the least, occupying most of your AP math class with her chittering, and you’re yet to meet this elusive Ellie you’ve heard so much about from her venting and seemingly never ending gossip. From ‘oh my god! Ellie and Cat from S-3? They kind of had a huge argument-’ to ‘Ellie is ditching class again, I’m surprised she hasn’t been kicked outta here by now, that’s what happened to her back in Boston!’ Based on what you’d heard, Ellie could only be described as a badass juvie escapist. And that’s how you’ve come to be sat in Jackson’s only diner, The Clay Pit BBQ, on a Friday evening after school waiting for ‘Ellie’ and Jesse to show up.

Dina sits across from you in the booth as you take in the cringe worthy old western themeing that seems as though it was plucked from a young child’s bedroom or a roadside tourist trap. A milkshake is sat in front of Dina with her admitting to herself more than saying to you, “I really shouldn’t be having this… lactose intolerance is a big thing with my family,” you nod at her more to quell her than to actually provide any opinion on her predicament, while a large cup of water and a plate of fries in front you. You both thank the waitress and begin to eat until a cough and playful punch lands on your shoulder. Jesse. You scooch further into the booth, the old faux leather squeaking underneath your movement. But as you turn to look at the others it’s not Jesse that’s sat beside you but the ‘Williams’ girl. The one that had returned your pin and the dots line up in your head. Dina had always said about her ditching to go skateboarding, and under the table is the same longboard as she’d made her escape on weeks prior.

“Ellie, this is Y/n.”

Dina turns to you now, “Y/n, this is Ellie.”

The air fills with a heavy tension, Dina and Jesse both look between the two of you and to each other as though having a silent conversation while Ellie keeps looking at you, as though trying to read you. Green eyes meeting your own eyes with such intensity that a heat begins to spread up your neck and it takes Jesse kicking the auburn haired girl and jolting her out of her trance-like state before she sticks out her hand. “Hi?”

‘Is that all she’s going to say’, you think to yourself as a laugh escapes your lips outwardly and you shake her hand. “Hi.”

Ellie doesn’t eat much but orders an apple cobbler and attempts to make small talk, despite the encounter starting off stale and almost jumpy as the ice breaks you find yourself relaxing into her company as though you’d known her as long and as well as you had the other pair, but you can’t seem to shake a niggling at the back of your mind that there was something off about Ellie Williams.

As the evening continues you settle into a comfortable chit chat, and discuss this and that, what’s there and what’s not. Everything under the sun. Until the waitress from before approaches your table to tell you that they’re closing up for the night and you gather your bits and ready yourselves to leave. As you stand outside the diner, you realize that your phone had died and with the only way to contact your mom dead as a doornail, Jesse asks you something you hadn’t planned for, “How’re you getting home?” You give a huff of frustration and shrug your shoulders, “I’ll walk it’s only a half hour anyways, I can take a shortcut through the woods. Dina pops her head from around Jesse's side and pipes up, “Are you sure, I can’t carry everyone but Jesse can walk home if you want to get on?”

“No I’m fine, genuinely! Besides, you both live on the other side of town.”

Ellie shuffles her way from inside to stand beside you.

“I can walk her home.”

“But Els, you live-”

“Dee. I’ll walk her home.”

Sensing the finality in Ellie’s tone and probably wanting to avoid being the cause of a scene, Jesse and Dina hop onto her minty vespa scooter, and the tall boy waves a long limb as they pull out of the street and down the road out east.

“Ellie. I appreciate the sentiment but I think a bit of alone time would be good for me?” You tell her, its the honest truth but not the whole truth. Internally you’re screaming. ‘Why would she do that? Dina said Ellie lived near her. Why would she offer to walk you in the completely opposite direction to where she needed to go?’

“Oh…” She looks disappointed but quickly fixes her face, “I- I guess I’ll see you round then?”

“Yeah, see you at school?” She lets go a small smile at your good natured teasing.

“Yeah…”

You part ways as she sets off on her skateboard, quickly picking up speed as she propels herself forward, following the same road as Dina and Jesse had just gone down. In a flash of flannel and beaten converse, she’s gone and you start the trek home.

The late evening twilight turns to night it seems as you set off and you are left with a predicament. Either brave the dark of the woods and be home fifteen minutes faster, or take the long way round and stay in the safety of the luminous orange of the streetlights… Taking one look at the storm clouds beginning to form in the western sky, you quickly make up your mind. Woods it is.

Pulling the purple hood up over your head as the occasional spitting of raindrops turns into a gentle pouring, getting past the small saplings and shrubs that make up the treeline you breathe out a sigh of relief at the umbrella provided by the canopy of the tall ancient pines. A thick, choking mist is rolling in, concealing the ground from your vision. The trek is tedious, those people that came before you and also opted for your choice of the protection of the trees have left a somewhat easily traversable path between the roots. The silence of your surroundings that during the day would be comforting is anything but as full darkness takes hold. The only sound is the trodding of your feet against pebbles, leaves and twigs. The half moon peeks out from the clouds occasionally amid the rain, the slivers of light it gives off let you know you're still on the right path and spur you onward.

Snap.

Loud and clear.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

The cracking rings out over the pitter patter of rain on the leafy surroundings.

It’s what causes silence to break and it dawns on you why the woods had been so silent before. They were afraid. The birds, the deer, and the elk. The moose, the eagles, and horses. They were all afraid. And doing their best to stay out of the way of the local apex predator. You had walked head first into the lion's den. Panic sets in as you pick up speed, feet propelling you forward over tree roots and through branches.

Run.

You have to run.

As you run the backpack on your shoulders jostles around, keyrings making clinking sounds with each step. Another creaking noise pulls your attention back towards your surroundings as you attempt to focus on something aside from your labored breaths and the blood thundering in your ears. The same sound comes from behind you again. “Fuck.” It sounded closer than before, ‘where’s it coming from… holy shit… I’m not ready to die…’ Fear has you whipping your head around to the direction you think the sound had originally come from. You hear a follow up rustle as if it knows what you’re thinking. ‘Shit.’

You feel like an antelope in a nature documentary. Meager, mortal prey for a wild, powerful, immortal predator. All common sense is thrown out a shattered window, basic human necessity drives you. The animalistic need to escape courses through you. Instead of sticking to the path, you run straight. Jumping over logs, and avoiding puddles. Your sneakers are going to be destroyed, your hoodie is flailing about as your arms pump back and forth. A glimmer of hope in the darkness appears ahead as the rows of trees begin to thin, the tawny light of a streetlamp. Through the rain and the mist it’s hard to determine the exact distance left, the orange tones bleeding through the weather like paint through a cup of water. The trees are skinny and short, saplings and bushes as the ground turns to soft green grass beneath your feet, you don’t stop until your feet hit hard tar. A road now under your feet.

Your legs burn, your head is light.

The glow of the streetlamp above you fills you with warmth as the adrenaline fizzes out and your breath comes back to you. Lungfulls of damp, cold air rake through your chest.

Just letting the relief flood your mind, you feel the warmth of big wet crocodile tears tracing down your cheeks. You remain unmoving as the rain continues to soak you, you haven’t felt more alive than at this moment in an exceedingly long time. The surreal nature of your escape has you standing in the middle of the road, head reeling. As you close your eyes and take another deep breath, you fail to see the lights coming around the corner.

Your ears hurt before anything else does, the screeching of rubber on tar. Cold metal throws you several yards, searing pain in your shoulder, up your neck, and down your side. Above you is a girl. The light above her head like a halo is the last thing you see as you collapse in her arms.

I hope you guys enjoyed the first proper chapter, I wanted to keep it a little longer but felt that this was the best place to cut it off.

If you wanna be added to/removed from either my TLOU tag list or the tag list for this series (FITD) drop me a message!

Tag list: @moonlightdivine @hi2647 @jasmine-gazaille @mortallyfurryjellyfish @soft-and-lush @viswifetotallyreal @chrry1ovr @paleidiot @sawaagyapong @macaroni676 @godswlwwarrior

[thotpuppy]

Writing Patterns

Tagged by @eevylynn which also reminded me I FORGOT TO POST YESTERDAYS TRIREIGN CHAPTER soooo im pausing here to do that now adkgjakjdg by the time u read this post, the chapter will be posted

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

"As the sole heir to his father’s crown and, according to the court healer, a particularly fertile omega, Stiles had always known his hand would be given to a suitor not for love, but for political security." -Triskelion Reign, Sterek, Arranged Marriage AU

"The dedication of worship has always presented a unique appeal to Stiles." - Sweating Out Confessions, Sciles, Historical AU

" “I dunno man, that sounds like some real fairytale bullshit.” " - 'My Whole Life is a Reference to the 1995 Hit Movie Clueless and I Still Don't Know the Plot' by Fall Out Boy, Stackson, Idiots to Lovers

"A sharp ringing pulses through Stiles’ head as he blinks back to consciousness." - Under My Skin, Stackson, Hurt/Comfort

"Dawn arrives with the fading smoke of a hard fought battle drifting into the horizon, melding with the fog of new day sun burning away the dew of night." - Thirsty, Stiles/Scott/Derek, Vampire AU

"It’s not easy being a human member of a werewolf pack." - Want You to Want Me, Stanny, Danny Joins the Pack

"The stench of chlorine is still an unwelcome, stagnant presence in Jackson’s nose long after he’s shed the last of his scales and learned to embrace his inner wolf." - Gumusservi, Stackson, Jackson Stays AU

"The dull thwap of rubber hitting net is soft in the muggy twilight air." - Touché, Stackson, Summer Romance

" “Bobby said you didn’t turn in your latest paper on time.” " - Elementary, My Dear Sheriff, Shoach, Outsider (Stiles) POV

"Stiles has never been a particularly talented cook." - Get It While It's Hot, Stiles/Derek/Parrish, Anniversary Dinner

So... overall, what would I say about my writing patterns.

2/10 fics start with a line of dialogue 3/10-4/10 fics start with a general introspective note 3/10-4/10 fics start with an action.

Overall I'd say I think I have pretty good starting lines?? that's not rly a pattern though LOL Maybe my pattern is a preference towards a cold open? I'd consider both dialogue and action openers cold opens. 6/10 are very,, visually evocative? imo? Drop you in the middle of smth and give u the barest minimum info to figure out where u are.

I dunno. what do you guys think?

low pressure tagging: @wolfspurr @definitivelydrivel @okdeannawrites @whimsicalmeerkat @mirrorthoughts @lucky-bishop

[paradoxxinvader]

DITTO - do you want somebody? like i want somebody?

PROFILES - ATTRACTION? MORE LIKE ATTRACT-SHUN !!!!

pairing :: riki x fem!idol!reader

genre :: idol au, written + some smau when needed, unrequited love (just not in the way you think), strangers to something, fluff, angst, flipped one-sided love !!

synopsis :: yn, the leader of girl group trio ATTRACTION, has a major crush on ENHYPEN’s maknae, nishimura riki, since before her debut in 2022. she related to him, confided in his photocards, and befriended the idea of him, so much so that she fell in love with someone who barely knew of her. when she debuts under the same label as him, HYBE, the tables start to turn when she starts to realize that who he is isn’t the same person she fell in love with, all while nishimura riki starts to fall for her. what could possibly go wrong?

YN LN (stage name : YN)

leader of ATTRACTION. needs to catch a break istg sungie keeps her on her toes. korean-australian. 1/5 of the aussie, aussie, aussie! oi, oi oi! gang. 16 years old, making her one of the youngest leaders in k-pop. is absolutely in love with nishimura riki of enhypen... like in love in love. it’s not good.  loves timtams, hates sharing them. was in a pop band in australia with her best friends that was called mgk (not machine gun kelly). became friends with maki of &team through her friend, sakura. has a messed up sleep schedule. trained for a year and quarter before debuting.

played by the reader, but danielle of newjeans is used for convenience. 

PAE SO-RI (stage name : PAE-RI)

eldest and main dancer of ATTRACTION. has sent COUNTLESS follow requests to lee know of stray kids on twittter but he always deletes them because he doesn’t know who she is lol (has enlisted i.n to help her but he always fails). 17 years old. is fully korean but spent some time in hong kong when she was in elementary school, and then new york in middle school, making her fluent in korean, cantonese, and english. wanted to become a kpop idol after she watched the du-du-du music video blackpink put out. was a dancer for three years, then trained for two years before debuting.

played by minji of newjeans.

CHO SUNG-EUN (stage name : SUNGIE)

the baby of ATTRACTION. has a crush on shining armor (twilight sparkle’s brother) from my little pony, but refuses to admit it. a literal child, is 15 years old. after RELENTLESS questioning from pae-ri and yn about who her crush is, she was inspired to write omg!, which led to FURTHER questioning, and when she revealed that it was shining armor, she was never shunned so quickly- this very quickly became an inside joke in the fandom after it was revealed who she wrote the song about. was a trainee at FNCE for about a year, but switched to HYBE. HATES it when people call her by her full name, only allows the members and her manager to call her by her name. trained for two years before debuting.

played by hanni of newjeans.

ATTRACTION

ATTRACTION is a 3 member girl-group comprised of YN, PAE-RI, and SUNGIE, under HYBE and BELLE. debuted in september 23, 2022, with their mini-album PHOTOREALISTIC. their fandom names are belle (plural: belles) and beau (plural: beaus).

ATTRACTION - MEMBERS ACCOUNT

THE GIRLS

TAGLIST ::  @acousticking @mitsukifilms @hyem1ngyu @loveliii @ahnneyong @azngamis-blog @hanniluvi @heesitation @brahms-heelshit@mirakura @adeolalily13 @sunoozz @enwlrd @3chae @bucketofhiros @ilovewonyo @jaxavance @calijimenez @adajoemaya @judeduartwannabe @heartwonder @wonypop @dimplewonie @coalalalinha  @rikimylove @jamaisunoo @sd211 @aki1e @asapia @simeonswhore @bougiesunoo @hatdugin @cass1814 @ilvsoup @nia-xxx @byhsng @soobnism @futuristicpiepsychicalmond @nuoyishi @akashisthighs​ @facelesswrittes @tinie03 @noiacha @mmaplepastries @curly-fr13s @sweetjaemss @lcv3lies @nikiluvs @urszn @kittyeij @jeonsy98 @sserafimez @j-wyoung @tya0 @stinkoscope @sumarchived @belovedxiao @gardenofriki @belovedxiao @jeonsy98 @tya0​ @hermvse​ @zuyairus​ @belovedxiao​ @stinkoscope @sumarchived @belovedxiao @gardenofriki @ethereal-ari @wanna-live-yn-life​ @ineedaherosavemeenow​​ @wooaheee (CLOSING SOON)

lu speaks ! :: hello everyone ~~ these should’ve been out a long time ago lol but in my defense... i didn’t have the apps. DONT BLAME ME I THOUGHT THEY WERENT AVAILABLE ON ANDROID !!! also im working on how to fix the formatting, but the issue is that you can only do that on the mobile app and i use the desktop version (it’s a long story, dont ask) but i’ll see what i can do soon ! i have sent a request to tumblr about it, so hopefully SOMETHING HAPPENS. also i know i said “taglist closing when next chapter is published” but this technically doesn’t count as a chapter, right? so the taglist is still open for those who want to join! tho i might just make a second batch after a while lol. anyways enjoy !!!!

[moominofthevalley]

Thank you for the tags @inlocusmads and @alleykatart !! Here are three random facts (...and some bonus ones too) about me! 

This fact is very embarrassing and bisexual. In my junior year of high school, I had a very huge stupid crush on a girl in my English class. It was so bad. I cringe every time I think about it. Oh my god. I can’t stop cringing. It was so intense my top two songs on Spotify wrapped for that year (2022) were Brand New City AND Once More to See You by Mitski. I would bake for her – with her knowledge of course – at least every other week because I didn’t know how else to express my first-time sapphic yearning LOL. (Also fun fact, I came out as bi in 2018)! She drew me as a ‘thank you’ gift and I still have it hung up on my wall :’) Anyways. You do really cringy stupid shit as a high schooler. Also, I found out she did not like me back after I just spent three hours baking her a heart-shaped cake the week before Valentine’s Day. I was crushed haha. 

I’ve always loved writing and literature. In elementary school, my two best friends and I would spend every single recess and lunch break writing little stories together. One of said friends and I wrote this horrible cliche story about two twin sisters – who were essentially gothic copies of us – called Raven and Evelin Moonblood. GOD. We were super obsessed with Supernatural at the time and it was…so bad lol. I stopped writing after middle school, and I got back into it years later – in my senior year of high school, I took a creative writing course and loved it. I wrote a short story called It’ll Pass that was very obviously inspired by Fleabag and I was so proud of it. (I still am). I also wrote a short 10-minute play called Made with Love about a Filipino woman cooking her late Mom’s sinigang recipe and obviously, it inspired me to write my very first Crimes fic of the same name! 

Horror has always been my favorite genre ever. I love Asian horror films and analog horror, and even as a kid, I was super into cryptids and creepy shit like the Bermuda Triangle. It’ll always be my favorite genre to write, too, and I will GLADLY write like a thousand AUs of Emily and Trystan going through the bleakest horrific shit ever.

And some bonus mini-facts about me because I just will never shut up about myself lol…

4. The dog Emily and Trystan have, Twilight, is named after my real-life dog who looks a lot like her :) Though, mine is a pittie and not a boxer like in-game. I love her so much. She turns six in June, and every year on her birthday I cook her a little meal – usually with pumpkin puree and plain chicken. 

5. My writing routine is very annoying. I must always write at night – at least in the dark – and I have to either listen to jazz compilations on YouTube or listen to nothing at all. I usually write in my bed – which is a shit habit I’m trying to break – and I also have a horrible posture because of it lol. 

Anyways, that’s all the facts I can think of. Below is a list of tags from the top 6??? people that come up – no pressure whatsoever :) 

@jerzwriter @logolepzy @jonathanmoores @peonierose @otakudreamer @juudaimes-true-form @stars-are-within-me

[findroleplay]

25+ she / they, est. long - term, adv / lit role play partner with 10+ years of experience. looking for an equally dedicated role play partner for something on discord. while i generally do a few replies a day, and length of reply can vary i generally am a multi - para and novella role play partner and i'm patient. i won't expect you to reply immediately, and i hope you won't expect me to, either. life gets in the way, so the patience and understanding i will extend to you, i expect to be extended to me, as well. [ if i have a character preference ]. i may not always have a character preference, though; so some pairings may not have any brackets. with that said, i'm not against playing another character, and i am open to setting up a second storyline if you'd like to double, though it isn't my presence. ( npcs though, to deepen interactions, and storylines? yes. ) for the right partner, i'm definitely willing to be flexible, just ask. what i'm looking for: mass effect. [ fshep ] x garrus, thane, aria. star trek. [ james kirk ] x spock, nyota x spock. twilight. [ edward ] x bella. resident evil games. [ ada ] x leon kennedy. resident evil films. alice x carlos. the last of us. joel miller x oc [ any gender ] or tess. star wars. ben solo / kylo ren x rey. game of thrones. daenerys x robb stark. house of the dragon. rhaenerya x daemon. sherlock / elementary. sherlock x jamie moriarty / irene adler. nbc's hannibal. hannibal lecter x will graham. open to trans headcanons, aus ( supernatural, omegaverse, ect. ), slice of life, romance, action / adventure, angst and more. if you are interested, please add me on discord and give me your name / alias, age, timezone, and what you were interested in / why. thank you! le fantôme#7282

_

[riggerbison]

New year for me to get back on this and show some extra love. The end of the year was a bit busy for me so I did look through November as well. So here are some of the awesome sets/fanart that have crossed my dash. Will be setting up my queue to give all these sets some more love that they deserve. Thank you for continuing to share your gifts with the fandom and giving y’all some creative good vibes for the new year!

Warrior Nun

Ava x Beatrice + Journey through Season 2 & Ava + AKA by @deenafier​

Ava x Beatrice + ship dynamics by @softavasilva​

Ava x Beatrice + Roommates by @great-sketch-pectations

Ava x Beatrice + domestic bliss by @blueeriver

Ava x Beatrice + sunshine & sunshine protector by @gibbarts

Ava x Beatrice + no use by @wenclair

Asian Dramas

Vegas x Pete + Strangers From Hell AU (kinnporsche) by @luna-lina

Ink x Pa + Episode 9 (bad buddy) by @kaonoppakao

Sol x Jiwan + quotes (nevertheless) by @weiwuxian

Kinn x Porsche + Episode 11 (kinnporsche) by @i-got-the-feels

Vegas + Vigilante Shit (kinnporsche) by @kimporchay

Vegas + astrology/moon shirt (kinnporsche) by @thatgothsamurai

Pat x Pran + Episode 12 (bad buddy) by @baifengxis​

Puen x Talay + LOVE (vice versa) by @talays-portkey​

Akk x Ayan + Blood Red Moon (the eclipse) by @dropthedemiurge​

Milk x Love + Cinematic Universe (multi) by @baifengxis​

Mork x Day + quotes (last twilight) by @talays-portkey

Vegas + Good Time Boy (kinnporsche) by @thoresque​

Sam + that white outfit (gap the series) by @mariemarion​

Episode 1 Poster (not me) by @magicaldreamfox1​

Pete + Are you a slut? (kinnporsche) by @thoresque​

The Bodyguards + Choose Your Player (kinnporsche) by @spicyvampire

Sean x White + I Burned So Long (not me) by @thoresque

Puen x Talay + Fates Intertwine (vice versa) by @oswlld

Yok + Get to Know (not me) by @spicyvampire

2022 BLs + Rainbow (multi) by @kaonoppakao

Best of 2022 BLs (multi) by @liyazaki

Misc

El x Max + What I Want (stranger things ) by @inadequate-nefelibata

Peter Parker + quotes (andrew garfield’s spiderman) by @sith-maul

Shelby Goodkind Emoji Meme (the wilds) by @viktorhargreeves

Prince Wilhelm + Vigilante Shit (young royals) by @van-eck​

Enola x Sherlock + quotes (enola holmes 2) by @ughmerlin​

Good Things Come in Threes (multi OT3′s) by @brittas-perry

The Jake Peralta Species (b99) by @jakeyp​

Btvs + Rainbow Set (btvs) by @slayerbuffy

Andrew x Neil + wall kiss (aftg) by @jordanshenessy

The Pogues + Google Search (outer banks) by @kiekiecarrera​

Nick x Charlie + Let it Snow (heartstopper) by @antoniosvivaldi​

Meet the Cast (knives out) by @david-tenant​

Kate x Anthony + 5SOS Songs (bridgerton) by @sith-maul

Every Sitcom Has... (abbott elementary & b99) by @justaleapoffaith​

Arthur x Merlin + Once Upon a Time (bbc merlin) by @arthurpendragonns

Favorite Media Discovered in 2022 (multi) by @eddiediaaz

Finals Girls + Top Trumps (multi) by @nick-nelson

[mothknight42]

Just saw this 20 Questions for Fic Writers and decided I wanted to do it so ....... here it is! Lmao.

How many works do you have on AO3?

46 !

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

274,246 ...... wrow

3. What fandoms do you write for?

So far?

Bayonetta!!!!!!!!!! (38 works lolsies)

Abbott Elementary (2 works)

Elden Ring (1 work)

Bloodborne (1 work)

Splatoon (1 work)

LoZ: Twilight Princess (1 work)

Yellowjackets (1 work)

Wicked (1 work)

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

the world's the same, but something's changing (Yellowjackets, Adult Timeline AU)

In other words... (Bayonetta, BayoJeanne love confession post B1)

desert hearts (Bayonetta, BayoJeanne β3 pre-canon)

I'll see you back home (Bayonetta, BayoJeanne post B3 "fix it")

work day with the boss (Splatoon, Deep Cut + Marie bonding)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes! I think it is nice to acknowledge that people took the time+effort to leave a comment, and sometimes it can start really fun and interesting conversations. I write niche fics for a small fandom primarily, so I don't get enough comments for it to be overwhelming, and thus every comment feels even more special. Plus I have some really lovely and generous regular commenters!

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oh god. This is an impossible question to answer? I write a lot of angst. Maybe sadness hides in your smile, my post B1 AU where Bayonetta never regains any of her memories. Or night, I stand, the pre B1 AU where Cereza dies in the witch hunts and Jeanne goes mad with grief forcing Rosa to put her down like a mad dog. LOL.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

AHHHHHH. I don't know! The two most recent fics that have happy endings are christmas wrapping and my hair no longer bounds to my foot’s glee, nor plant I it from rose or myrtle tree.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Nah, not usually. I have gotten a few weird/mean spirited comments in the past, which I respond to and politely tell the person to fuck off and not leave comments like that (lolsies) and then delete. The pro of writing niche fics in a small fandom is I get very little interaction to start, so it is generally positive!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

HA. Yes. I have no idea what "what kind" means though. The sexy kind? Hopefully?

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I've never written one, no. I find them hard to pull off and they rarely interest me.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of! I don't know why anyone would steal weird angst AU lesbian nonsense but hey. To each their own. (Please don't steal my fics)

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I can recall, but I could be wrong. I think it would be cool if people wanted to though!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Just one, a smut fic with dubhgloinne. I would like to co-write more but I find it scary (and I worry I would be bad at collaborating).

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Bayonetta/Jeanne. Perhaps a bit obvious.

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

THIS IS A MEAN QUESTION. I WILL FINISH ALL MY WIPS. I BELIEVE IN ALL MY FELLOW WRITERS, WHO WILL ALSO FINISH ALL OF THEIR WIPS.

(Post Bayo 3 AU where Jeanne and Viola survive together. It is a long fic idea that could take over a year to properly pull off. The planning draft is gathering dust as we speak.)

16. What are your writing strengths?

Characterization! Evocative emotion!

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Everything else!

Kidding. Mostly. I struggle a lot with description, especially around setting.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I think if you do not speak that second language then you should consult someone who does, with a few rare exceptions. It often comes off as clunky when you don't, and in some cases can be incredibly demeaning and disrespectful if you lean hard into stereotypes or limited cultural knowledge. I really admire people who can write in multiple languages!

19. First fandom you wrote for?

I don't remember. Maybe Bleach? A YoruSoi fic? I was 12 and none of those fics exist anymore. Alas.

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

IMPOSSIBLE QUESTION! But my favorite in terms of recent fics is easily severed, my Elden Ring Ranni focused fic, set before the events of the game.

AUGHHHH THIS WAS FUN AND COOL TO ANSWER >:) Tagging some of my friends @xilianx @dragon-in-the-tardis @modulatechaos if they wanna do this as well :)

[evilkitten3]

my word for the wip game is “play” or “don’t” :)

i'll do play first, then!

And none of them are people he trusts to handle a crisis in an elementary school, except maybe Krillin or Yamcha, but the latter is on the other side of the world playing baseball and Gohan has no idea where the former even is.

“Wanna play jumprope with me an’ Glu for recess?”

“I’ve never actually played jumprope before,” he admits.

-Men of Tin, chapter 4: Elementary School Blues (Dragon Ball; should probably change that to middle school; part of a post-Cell au where Gohan goes to school much sooner; yes all the kids are named after school supplies)

Although he’d spent his first recess learning to play jump rope with Glu and Wakku, Gohan doesn’t really feel as though he’d truly bonded with either of them.

Most of the other kids had formed their own groups that were also pretty clearly pre-established: Wakku and Glu played jump rope; Tekist, Bainda, Jiki, Basami, and Keiko talked about sports; Hochikiss, Maaka, Forda, and Conpas giggled about fashion and boys; Shappu and Pen chased each other around the small playground – only Gohan and the quiet boy, Mashe, had remained separate from the others.

Mashe asks, gesturing towards the other side of the cafeteria (which is just the playground, only now they’re all sitting on the benches and eating lunch).

-Men of Tin, chapter 6: Lost Between Two Worlds (Dragon Ball; this is the chapter i'm least satisfied with and may remove altogether bc i barely even remember what i wanted to do with mashe anyway. i think maybe he'd also lost someone in the cell games or something? idk)

"...Why should I have to play a damn guessing game every time someone I know has some sort of anniversary?..."

-Around the World in 365 Days (Dragon Ball; fic i started ages ago and might work into a separate fic instead of making it its own thing; basically goku and vegeta try to find a birthday present for yamcha)

Pan and Bulla playing together was one thing, but the girls were still too young to really understand what bedtime was, or why they should fight against it like it was the next big threat to the planet.

-Good Ideas Will Tear Your Brain Apart (Dragon Ball; mostly abandoned kakavegebulchi fic where i was trying to work out some interactions between vegeta and chichi, but it didn't really go anywhere)

But she’d learned to hide the dual-colored skin and petrified flesh, learned to turn her weak heartbeat into the most effective possum-playing imaginable.

-Narfi Nada (MCU; crack avengers 1 au where all the avengers sans thor are loki's myth kids, but all of them are so busy trying to hide it from everyone (especially thor and loki) that none of them pick up on each other; thor and loki absolutely pick up on it and promptly jump to the conclusion that they need to keep it secret from each other; basically the whole thing is an excuse to give fury a migraine)

Expectation and reality had played out simultaneously.

-Sandpipers Standing in a Marsh in the Autumn Twilight (Durarara!!; post-ketsu fic; izaya and shizuo not being friends and not coping and also bitching about shinra)

One thing Orihara Kyōko’s son inherited from her was a sense of playfulness, with a subtly competitive edge. This is not to say that her husband was a boring person, or even that he didn’t enjoy games as well, but the playfulness that Orihara Shirō had was significantly closer to the average desire for enjoyment experienced by most humans, as opposed to the playfulness that functioned as a core personality trait for both his wife and eldest child.

By the time Izaya turned five a few months later, he’d developed a habit of only asking his mother when he wanted to play a game. When she’d first offered to involve his father, Izaya had scoffed and told her that he didn’t think “that man” was intelligent enough for him to bother playing with.

He did, eventually, realize that his father wasn’t actually as dull as he’d first thought, but by then the game of finding new ways to not spend time with his father had become far more entertaining than any pre-established game they could have played together.

This last bit is not how the game usually worked, but it was how the Orihara family had ended up playing it.

In both kakurenbo and western hide-and-seek, the seeker closes their eyes and counts to ten (or another agreed upon number, usually determined via angry children who do not feel that ten seconds is enough time to find a suitable thing to hide behind on the playground).

Perhaps, had Izaya confronted her about this, she would have explained to him that adults had more experience in just about everything that a young child, and therefore all of them had to pretend the playing field was even in order for the child to continue enjoying the game.

Assuming her son was merely playing with her, Kyōko sighed and continued the search, occasionally calling out that the game was over and he can come out now.

He did regret not having brought snacks or something to do while he hid, but he resolved to do just that the next time he played kakurenbo.

Two days after brilliantly foiling his mother’s plan to win at kakurenbo, Orihara Izaya emerged from hiding and wandered into the kitchen, too hungry to keep playing his brilliant game.

-The Intricacies of a Rainbow-Colored Lemniscate (Durarara!!; post-ketsu; basically izaya is autistic and it changes nothing but his parents would very much like to know why their son is missing presumed dead)

ok, onto the next word! "don't" is a word i expect to show up a lot, so i can't promise to share every sentence. but we'll see.

“Don’t do drugs.”

“I don’t know much about depression, but I do know that it can lead people to turn to drugs or alcohol,” his mom says, and it dawns on Gohan that she’s entirely serious.

“I don’t care whose side he’s on now, that man is–” Gohan realizes how that had sounded and almost chokes, raising his hands to pacify his mother.

“I don’t mean I’d ask him for help. ..."

His mother and grandfather, who don’t live in his head and hadn’t made those connections, just stare at him.

-Men of Tin, chapter 1: Where We Were When the Lights Went Out (Dragon Ball; off to a great start)

He’ll get himself in trouble sooner or later, and they don’t need to give anybody any excuses to get rid of them.

It suddenly dawns on her that the clothes she’s wearing don’t actually belong to her.

"I… don’t know if that’s a good idea. ..."

“Well, technically, I don’t sleep, but I’m homeless again, so…”

“I don’t know,” she says, because she really doesn’t.

“I don’t really have anything else. ..."

“In any case, Eighteen, I don’t have a spare bed at the moment. I hope you don’t mind the couch until we can find a bed for you.” “I don’t really need to sleep,” Eighteen says.

-Men of Tin, chapter 2: Pretty Broken Things (Dragon Ball; oh yeah this fic isn't just about gohan btw there's chichi/18 and also vegeta having a breakdown in the background)

You don’t know how to either, little monkey, Frieza hisses at him.

"... I don’t want either of you to get hurt, but–”

Men of Tin, chapter 3: The People We Knew Long Ago (Dragon Ball; vegeta is coping great thanks for asking)

“Don’t scare him,” Chichi scolds, shaking her head at the cyborg.

“Don’t talk like–” Temper snapping, Vegeta whirls around, palm crackling with power.

“I don’t think he wants to talk right now, honey,” Panchy says, glancing between her daughter and the prince.

“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to, sweetie,” Panchy’s voice cuts through his thoughts.

"... Don’t concern yourself with whether or not you are worth my time. ..."

"... We can spend the morning getting to know Gohan, but please don’t overwhelm the poor boy.”

“I don’t mind, Ms. Bai.”

-Men of Tin, chapter 4: Elementary School Blues (Dragon Ball; gohan is so sweet and vegeta is probably rabid; also that's nappa talking in the second sentence)

Zarbon drags him off somewhere, and Nappa and Raditz don’t see him again for nearly a month.

“Don’t sneak up on me!”

 I don’t think he usually talks like that.

-Men of Tin, chapter 5: Brick By Broken Brick (Dragon Ball; vegeta is totally one hundred percent in the present and not at all having flashbacks he's doing great stupendous super even)

“You don’t own a watch, Kakarot. ..."

“Beyond that, I don’t recall any such thing. ..."

"... I don’t believe we had any annual celebrations like birthdays – if we did, it likely would have been a celebration of the birth itself, which would have been considered the mother’s battle, not the child’s. ..."

"... I don’t believe I ever met her in person, though, so I can’t speak much to what she was actually like. ..."

"... I simply don’t wish to refer to a Saiyan by a non-Saiyan name when he has a perfectly good proper name. ..."

-Around the World in 365 Days (Dragon Ball; there's actually one other sentence with "don't" but i chose not to include that one bc it's borderline incoherent out of context)

“Well, I don’t remember the exact district,” his cousin admits.

"... I don’t even think most of ‘em know my name.”

“Well, don’t worry, Lord Kuchiki, I’m sure you’ll catch up to me eventually.”

“We just don’t know much about Rukongai, so we weren’t sure if anyone too far out there knew how to read.”

“And assumin’ things ‘bout people ya don’t know ain’t very polite.”

“I don’t know for sure,” she says, as she walks alongside the older girl who had graciously offered to walk her to her next class (probably for gossip, which Rangiku is very much okay with).

"... I don’t know if he’s ever even touched a sword before, but… I dunno, he’s always been smart. ..."

"... You go around and look at things in windows but you don’t actually spend any money!”

"... We don’t like being cooped up, either. ..."

“Don’t ignore us!” The sound of teeth snapping might have startled him if he hadn’t gotten used to it ages ago. “We don’t belong here!” We don’t belong anywhere, though.

"... I’m afraid I don’t have my own name at present.”

“You don’t have to, though,” she adds with a wink.

-Dreamcatcher (Bleach; gin and byakuya's first meeting goes impeccably, no class warfare at all)

I don’t know what to do.

((I don’t want to hurt anyone))

Except his don’t move, because they are markings and not– whatever this is.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says finally.

The now-voiceless hollow had needed words, but the others don’t.

They don’t have the stamina or the manpower to fight another opponent, she knows.

-Frost Line (Bleach; basically orihime loses her shit when ulquiorra kills ichigo and maybe kinda sorta usurps aizen as arc bad guy; also rukihime endgame)

“I don’t really have the full picture of what happened, so I don’t know if–”

She has Goku drop her off at Capsule Corp before sending him back to keep the boys company (and make sure they don’t stay up too late, though she doubts that that will be as much of a problem as it usually is).

"... I don’t– I don’t think– Cheech, he didn’t recognize me. ..."

"... I don’t know what to do, I don’t know how I’m s-supposed to f-f-fix this, I–”

"... I ain’t a psychologist, but I know it don’t work like that. ..."

"... Maybe they will, but that’s a lotta unnecessary stress on people who don’t deserve to carry that. I ain’t sayin’ you should leave him or that you don’t love him, I’m sayin’ you gotta set a line for what ain’t gonna fly. He should too; we all need to. But you’re the one he might listen to, ‘cause he ain’t listenin’ to Goku and I don’t imagine he’ll be interested in listenin’ to me.”

“Y’don’t go through all that an’ come out okay, Bulma, you just don’t. ..."

“Not sayin’ I don’t care about him. ..."

-Good Ideas Will Tear Your Brain Apart (Dragon Ball; chichi's accent is so freaking hard for me gah)

“JARVIS, don’t let Fury talk to me before ten am,” he says, not processing any of what the man had actually said.

“You don’t wanna help redecorate another borough?” Tony asks innocently.

Nat and Steve don’t follow, but that’s fine.

“I’m not saying it was the nicest table I’ve ever seen,” Loki is saying when Iron Man arrives on scene (before Cap, and possibly also before Nat, but Tony is well aware that not being able to see her doesn’t actually mean anything), “but I don’t really think the design was that offensive.”

“You don’t appear injured,” Loki crouches down next to her.

"... I don’t recall having ordered a side of civilian causalities.”

“I don’t have anything to say to you.” Hawkeye tells him flatly.

“I don’t pretend to know his gender identity, but statistically, I believe you are most likely correct. ..."

"... Please say no, I don’t need to deal with that again.”

"... You’re supposed to be in– I don’t know, wherever Asgard puts its wannabe dictators.”

"... This world’s Loki probably just needs… oh, I don’t know. ..."

“She won’t do anything, I don’t think,” she adds.

“And might I say, Captain, I hope you don’t feel the need to treat me differently simply because my form has changed. ..."

-Oh, Ye of Little Grace (MCU; pretty much abandoned idea of aoa!loki ending up in the mcu)

“Is it the one where you don’t think I’m a monster anymore?” he asks.

“True. You don’t fall for anything I say, huh?” “I just don’t listen most of the time. I’ve known you were full of shit since day one.”

“If you don’t already know, that’s probably the most concerning thing, actually.”

"... Looks like you don’t know everything after all.”

"... Don’t tell, Shizu-chan.”

Don’t talk about Celty like that

Don’t be absurd.

…I don’t like that you guessed that so quickly

"... We don’t even talk that much. ..."

“I don’t think he’s ever asked. ..."

"... I don’t think he would either way, though.”

"... I don’t know if there’s anything they could’ve done about that. ..."

"... Shi– oww, hey, don’t do that! ..."

-Sandpipers Standing in a Marsh in the Autumn Twilight (Durarara!!)

i'm gonna end it here bc this has gone on long enough. shame on you for picking such a common word lol

[avulleonastick]

J, M, N, and R please!!!

J - Name a fandom you didn’t think about until you saw it all over Tumblr. (You don’t have to care about it or follow it; it just has to be something that Tumblr made you aware of.)

MacGyver! (The new one.) There was really just one person I was following who was obsessed with it, but I did end up eventually watching it because of them.

M - Name a character that you’d like to have for a friend.

Oh geez, that's a hard question, because most of my faves are like... not... great... people XD Can I say Lena Luthor because she's made of money and it might rub off on me? (I'm a monster.) If not that, then Adora, probably? She seems chill. Strong possibility of me falling ass over heels in love with her, though, which wouldn't be great.

N - Name three things you wish you saw more or in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice).

So my favorite fandom is Pitch Perfect, so...

Poly Ships! (triple treble & bellas squared in particular)

Paranormal AUs! (vampire stuff in particular because Twilight instilled in me a lifelong obsession)

Crossovers! (with... whatever, really XD Although, let's be real, ideally Twilight or like, Vampire Diaries, because I really am that basic.)

R - Which friendship/platonic relationship is your favorite in fandom?

Oh huh. I think either Sherlock & Joan in Elementary or John & Rose in Homestuck. I love both of those relationships so much.

Pay Attention to Me!

[treasure-goblin]

Lu Elementary School AU

Twilight (3rd Grade-8 Years Old)

Twilight is Wild's older brother and protector 

Twilight really admires his older cousin, Time, and talks about him a lot to his book buddy

Telma is his godmother and a teacher at the high school, so she visits him every Thursday when they have book buddy day

Twilight met Midna at a little summer camp and has had a crush on her ever since 

No one else believes Midna exists, though 

Twilight won a little wolf plushie for Wild at a carnival once 

Twilight is bad at team games, but Is super energetic and loves games like tag and hide-and-go-seek as opposed to organized sports

Twilight is an average student, not the best but not the worst

Twilight is one of the kids who plays wolves on the playground

The game has been going on since 1st grade, and he and his class have such complicated lore at this point that Twi's special buddy writes it all down

Dink tries to tease Twilight about him playing wolves once but got info dumped on and never tried again 

Ilia is his best friend and they play wolves together, she was the first kid to join his "pack" and has a little crush on him

Masterlist

[cocopurplepompom]

1, 11, 12!

1. List three positive things about your fandom(s)

- I think it's great that the Loz fandom is welcoming of newer fans. I see a lot of posts with information about earlier games, helping to educate and include people who have only played one or two more recent ones.

- I love how many different interpretations we have of link, once again it allows everyone to feel included and valid with their own head cannons, and we're all mostly content to play in the sandbox together.

- I'm impressed by how much work the fandom, writers and artists especially, do to build semi-coherent lore from across the games, resulting in a multitude of different links meet aus that still involve bits and pieces of every cannon.

11. If you're a writer or artist, what fic or piece of art are you proud of making?

Ummm, this is hard. I guess the figurines in my icon? They aren't Loz characters, but I designed them using tinkercad and 3d printed them at school, then painted them. It was a lot of fun and the outcome was super cute!

12. Compliment someone else in your fandom

@treasure-goblin ! They write lovely creative poems and fics, including an adorable lu elementary school au (link below) that everyone should go read!!!! Overall an amazing and talented person who deserves all the love in the world.

[sailoreuterpe]

Give me a Breaking Dawn AU where Nessie is still a child prodigy, but she acts like many real child prodigies. So yes, she’s brilliant and multi-talented (and I’ll even let her keep being physically advanced), but otherwise she has the emotional responses of someone her chronological age. So she acts emotionally like an infant when she’s less than a year old, etc.

Because how poignant would it be for this amazing, unique, worldly child to also cry as soon as she’s even a little uncomfortable or scream when she wants something. Nessie has the intelligence to understand that she acts like a baby/child/teen/etc., but she can’t help that she responds as a normal human child would.

Besides which, how much more touching would Nessie’s relationships with the Cullens/Wolves be if she had to rely on them for calm and maturity as she grew? She can quote Tennyson at two months old, but she also has a meltdown if she’s denied anything. So Carlisle has to teach her patience, Esme has to teach her love, etc. Jacob is her second father (the imprint is explicitly familial/platonic in this scenario), Edward is her rock, and Bella actually gets a chance to mother her child beyond buying her gifts.

And as Nessie grows and matures, she will have much more of a tragic disconnect from her human side. She’ll see babies in the store and think “That would be me if I were fully human. If I were normal.” She’ll see tweens gossiping and cry because she won’t get that--she’ll physically be too old to accept before her maturity catches up. She’ll see adults and weep because, even when she finally has an adult’s emotions, she’ll look too young to fit in, forever.

As an added bonus, this gives the Volturi more of an incentive to stamp out the Cullens. Have hybrids be common knowledge. Have the Volturi limit their creation, specifically because they’re so similar to Immortal Children. Even a child that’s maturing at a normal human rate is a danger to everyone for years if they also have the speed and strength of a vampire.

Or, if Edward wouldn’t risk getting Bella pregnant in that scenario, have the Volturi aware of hybrids, but they’re otherwise unknown to larger vampire society. So when the Volturi come, it really is a trial. The Cullens are exonerated by virtue of not breaking the law (or even knowing that hybrids were possible), since the Volturi never announced their knowledge based on the fact that hybrids are so rare. Now they make the law but Aro, intrigued by Nessie’s powers, allows the Cullens to live with the caveat that they’re under surveillance now. If Nessie has a deadly “tantrum,” they’re all going down.

So the Cullens actually have to discipline and mold and teach Nessie. They actually have to keep her grounded. The Cullens actually have to parent their child, which is what many of them want in the canon anyway. Nessie grows up overprotected and spoiled, not just because she’s just that special, but because she’s also a child with vampire abilities. There’s a lot of angst potential as well. Nessie resents her family for constantly watching out for her, but she understands intellectually why they do. She loves them all, fiercely, but until she’s chronologically an adult she won’t truly internalize why she has to be sheltered so strongly.

Basically, give me a Nessie who actually needs to be parented. Give me a Nessie with a child’s wonder at the world, and the emotions to match. Give me a Nessie who matters beyond being a walking plot device.

Give me Nessie, not a perfect little robot who runs on blood and pretension.

[cyphersyndromes]

Wilted lover | Jeon Jungkook Vampire au

Synopsis: Jeon jungkook is your classmate that is quite peculiar from the rest. His off setting demeanor strikes you as he too is brought back by your scent, something that he isn’t ever been phased by as a vampire used to the human scent. As the school year goes by, he is an acquaintance of yours that you enjoy the presence of, casually talking within school grounds, even being partners together.Jungkook finally gets you alone in a school trip, contemplating whether his instincts should get the best of him or not.

pairing: vampire jungkook x human reader

warning : this is a slight drabble with a lot of teasinggg, slight inspo from twilight :)

Friday afternoon could not have came any faster. The art club in which you were in decided to take a trip to a contemporary art museum, showcasing the works of several artists dating up to the 14th century. You were quite excited due to the fact that school trips happen once in a blue moon.Your love for art came to be ever since your mom placed you in extra curricular activities in your elementary school which happend to have a course that showcased the several different art eras in the world.This opened a whole new gateway of your passion for art

Arriving at the school, you see your friends crowded in a table, reviewing the itinerary for today, you scan the room and notice jungkook in the class, however he wasn’t with the crowd but rather in the corner, immediately turning his head to you as you walked in the classroom, as if he sensed you

you greet everyone and grab a paper, reviewing it before putting it into your messenger bag. whilst putting the paper in, one of your pins fell from your bag, reaching to get it, in a milisecond second you see a tatted arm get the pin.

“you dropped this” jungkook said while placing the pin back on your bag

you feel queasy, seeing the tatted boy with piercings focusing on getting the pin back to your bag.

“thank you jungkook, i didn’t even notice you coming to get it” you say looking up at him, noticing his light eyes which makes you melt inside

“no problem” he looks back down at you, as your bodies are inches away.

the truth is your scent was much different from anyone elses. since the moment you walked into the school, he could sense you from a mile away, enticing you as his own. he was blood hungry, and your scent was like no other. alongside your beautiful frame and features, he instantly fell for you. becoming your not so secret, secret admirer.

“Everyone load up on the bus!” your art teacher announced.

you looked at jungkook once more, he never takes his eyes off you

“You want to sit together on the bus?” you say, making yourself chuckle as it sounds like such a cheesy thing to ask

“I would love that” he says as you both walk out of the class, engulfing in other peoples conversations about their past night

Jungkook and you were always fond of eachother, being lab partners had its perks as he was insanely intelligent and knew how to do every lab that you both always did, so the class was a breeze for you, however having to hide your crush on him was mere hell

once while doing a potion lab, you were confused on the measurements, so he went behind you and grabbed your beaker, pouring the liquids with the precise measurements, however you couldn’t focus. he was too close, you could feel his breath on your neck, you didn’t dare to turn and look at him but it felt as if he was directly looking at your neck, his breath was warm against your neck, making you bite your lip in the slightest. soon after he returned back to his seat like nothing happened.

there was obvious tension, you just couldn’t tell what you were to him

..

Navigating the museum, you were stunned by the pieces

Upon arriving, everyone was assigned to be with a partner, you and jungkook both agreed to tour the museum together and meet back with the rest at a certain time.

You and jungkook were in a secluded area, mainly resevered for medieval and renaissance themed paintings.

you laid your eyes upon a certain painting that made you feel a variety of emotions.

The wilted love

the painting itself was a renaissance piece, you could see a woman laying on a bed with her neck stretched to a side while a man placed his lips on her neck.

the man had the most beautiful color, similar to jungkooks. a slight hazel eye color with hair close to ears, parted in the middle with a white collared shirt. the woman too was beautiful, wearing a white satin dress, eyes closed.

however the thing that set you off was the blood dripping down her neck, a slight trail, almost as if her blood was from a cut or a bite.

you look at the description of the painting and learned that she had been deceived by her lover that was actually dracula, the blood sucking immortal that was the most vile of them all.

you raise your brows and hum in disapproval. you were never a fan of the whole human falling in love with a higher entity trope. however you felt for her since he disguised himself as a human to play with her emotions, she was just dinner to him.

“interesting” jungkook says as you turn to him to see his eyes on the same painting you were examining

“pretty fucked isn’t it” you say once again looking at the blood dripping from the woman’s neck

“hmm i’m not sure” he says rubbing his hand on his chin

you raise your eyebrows, “what do you mean?”

“there is no way she could not have known he was obviously not a mortal, just look at him” he says while pointing at the man’s god like features, almost too good to be true

“this is a painting kook, it could just be a figment of someone’s imagination, besides anyone could be fooled in the name of love and lust” you say while adjusting your bag back to your arm.

jungkook turns to you, raising one eyebrow

“so you don’t believe in vampires?” he says while slowing making his way towards you

you felt a churn in your stomach but kept your composure

“i don’t, there merely just a fantasy” you say looking at him

he looks at you and scoffs

you raise your brow in confusion

“ what about vampires is a fantasy?“ he asks once again raising his eyebrow and clicking his tongue against his cheek

“i don’t know the whole thing? the whole blood sucking thing is just unbelievable, also the idea of them never going out in the day because they burn, and if they were to be out for blood, why would they be disguised as humans? i’m a human and i don’t like blood, i’m actually quite disgusted by it,” you say as you notice jungkook slowly inching towards you, until your backed into a wall

he places his arm upwards towards the wall, looking at your lips

“w-what are you doing jungkook?” you ask merely out of breathe because of the amount of butterflies you felt

“so if i were to have my head like this-“ he says while tilting his head towards your neck, once again feeling his warm breathe on your neck like before

“and kiss your neck like this” he whispers into your ear seductively while lowering his lips to your neck, placing his warm soft lips upon your skin, leaving trails of kisses

you moan in the slightest, feeling too turned on to function at the thought of your crush from the first day you moved to your school now engulfing on your neck

he stops kissing your neck to look at you in your weak state.

eyes closed, head tilted to allow acesss to your neck, and your lips were sunken by your teeth.

you looked so perfect. so vulnerable

jungkook was the most excited he has ever been, to be this close to you, to have your scent directly on his nose merely intoxicated him.

he kept his composure however, smirking and leaning into your lips.

you open your eyes to be met with jungkooks hazel eyes and red lips.

you were so weak and turned on.

“k-kookie” you managed to whisper

he raised one brow

“yes” he says

you place your hand on his abs, slowly making your way upwards to his chest.

you cant help but to blush at how muscular he is

he looks at you and immediately smashes his lips with yours aggressively

you moan in surprise as you both have the nastiest make out session, hands all over each other.

he makes his way down from your lips to your neck once again. this time licking your neck with small kitten licks.

you whimper at the contact, his tongue felt cold

jungkook places kisses all over your neck and you feel his chest pulsating, almost as if he was too over stimulated.

jungkook tries to control himself, but your scent is intoxicating and delicious

he slowly opens his mouth to reveal his fangs, you feel a sharp object on your neck, not biting you, but simply just there.

you open your eyes from your daze and push jungkook away slightly.

“w-what was that?” you ask grabbing your neck

“what was what?“ he asked with curious eyes

“no no you know what that was” you say looking at him again being oblivious to the question

“you mean me kissing your neck? that was just me wanting to make you feel g-“

“no ! no that sharp thing on my neck” you said interrupting him

“i don’t know what your talking about y/n, i just really wanted to kiss you” he said once again making those eyes

you realize you were talking crazy, you look at the vampire painting behind jungkook and realize you probably just have vampires on your mind after learning about the painting

“i-i’m sorry i think i’m just seeing things” you say rubbing your neck and looking at him

“your good y/n, i just wanted for you to know that i like you” he said

“and maybe my thoughts got the best of me by me kissing you but i really do like you” he says

you smile a bit, still uneasy after the situation

“ i like you too jungkook” you say once again walking towards him.

he smiles down at you and hugs you, almost picking you up.

you got a ring on your phone however and stepped away from jungkook to see that it’s time to meet up with everyone else from the group.

“we have to go” you say as you grab your bag again

he nods and follows behind as you walk out of the area

as jungkook was walking, he turns back seeing the painting and smirking

“ my wilted lover” he says underneath his breath

-

vampire jungkook i think yes

[arlenianchronicles]

What’s this? Another AU?? This time, y’all get an eldritch/tree/fae/theatre-costume take on Maedros, Elrond, and Elros!

I was initially inspired by the idea of a Silmarillion play and what kind of costumes designs one could utilize. I ended up going for wooden masks; the look of them are inspired by a few things: an old performance at the Michael J. Fox theatre that I vaguely remember from elementary school; the Kin Fables short film trilogy, which you can find on Youtube; and, somewhat less so, the sages from LoZ: Twilight Princess.

And then it turned into a whole other thing of eldritch-tree-fae in the Silmarillion -- essentially turning all the Elves into fae. But really, it can be any or all of these if you want! XDD (I just haven’t figured out what to do about the Edain and Dwarves yet ... siiigh)

As for the painting, Maedros is protecting Elrond and Elros from ... something or other. I imagine that the eldritch Elves have the ability to grow tree branches like Groot (since their bodies are kinda like trees? I think?? I haven’t developed everything yet loll). So Maedros uses his branches to shield/carry the twins, and hide them inside his layers of clothing.

Below are the design sketches I did for them (I’m not good at character sheets loll)

Maedros’ wooden mask has scratches and cracks from his time in Thangorodrim (and I haven’t figured out what type of wood it’s made out of yet ^^;;). His “hair” is made up of red fur, and he wears layers of robes from Valinor (that are now worn and tattered).

The branches on his head (and all the other Elves’) are supposed to represent Elf ears XDD His are barren of leaves due to Thangorodrim / all the other battles.

Elrond and Elros have near-identical ivory masks; their “hair” and clothes are just lengths of black silk that glitter/shimmer under starlight. Since they’re still young, they don’t have the branch-ears, but instead have baby flowers and leaves (which can also double as crowns referring to their Maiar heritage).

(ps. don’t mind Elros, he’s just bending side to side for fun loll)

I think that, during their time with Maedros and Maglor, the twins end up wearing those golden necklace/thread ornaments (since I’d imagine that to be a Noldorin tradition ^^)

Here’s a bonus Maglor to cap off the kidnap fam! His “hair” is made up of black cloth, and his robes from Valinor are worn down from his journeys. His branch-ears are also barren.

[provisionalsparkle]

The Boy Next Door

Reader x Bang Chan (Stray Kids)

[Genre] exes-to-lovers au, smut, angst.

[Word count] 6.7K

[Warnings] Smut. Angst. Unprotected sex, voyeurism, ample description of bodily fluids.

[Note] This is my contribution to @feliix ’s Summer 2 Lovers collab! Check it out!

Summer.

The season of fun and sun, careless joy, long days and warm nights…

For most people.

For you, this summer is about change. It’s about the little town you used to live in, the quaint house you grew up in, the smell of your mother’s cooking or the breeze from the yard, the sound of younger kids playing in the street. It’s about the big city you will go to live in, it’s purple and orange twilight skies, black silhouettes reaching toward the skies beginning to twinkle with golden lights, the noises of the traffic coming from evening bustle, the scent of the delis and restaurants that line the streets.

You were stuck between these two places, university having been a four year long limbo of boundless sex mislabeled as self-discovery, and now visit your home one last time, reminding yourself of the life you had there before moving on to another.

You think of the past with nostalgia, yet also with a restlessness that makes you want to run from everything. The stillness, the silence, the unchanging landscape in this little town is too unbearable, too unsettling. But it’s familiar, and it’s comfortable. The life you’ll soon live promises excitement, autonomy, it’s the adulthood you’ve fantasized about. It terrifies you too, and you have these horrible dreams about missing the payment of the most insignificant bill and having the entire world collapse on you because of it. You still don’t know how to do your taxes.

College is over, a new life awaits you in a big city after landing a rather ideal job, but it felt like you were leaving things behind. Funny how, after so many years of fantasizing about this grown-up life you suddenly felt like a lost child, scared to forgo the familiar.

It’s these sort of almost-quarter-life-crisis thoughts that fill your mind on a particularly warm afternoon. You’re indecently splayed out on a couch with as little clothing as possible, the door to the backyard is wide open, letting an occasional breeze waft in to disrupt the stifling stillness of the heat. The lights are off, and you were too unbothered to turn them on as the sun set, preferring to stare at a darkening ceiling as the evening sky turned purple.

There’s a familiar jingle of keys from the front door.

“Honey? You home?”

“I’m here, Mom.” You lazily answer back. She wanders from the hall to the living room, you can feel the judgemental look she gives you.

“Have you been laying like this all day?”, indignation lines her voice. Was it so surprising to find you like this?

“Yeah…”

“You can’t just lay here all day. Go out! Get some sun! Go play with those kids you used to hang out with from school!”

“I can’t Ma, I’d rather just plank here.”

“Oh goodness, Y/n. Give me one good reason you shouldn’t go hang out with them!”

“I’ll give you two: either they grew up to be total bitches or they had kids and became a bore.”

“I didn’t become a bore when I had you!” She exclaims, although it’s not too serious and some playfulness hides beneath the surface.

“Yeah, that’s because you’re a cool mom. They don’t make those anymore.”

“Hmm… well, I think you should make a bit of an effort.”

“Mom… it’s my last vacation you know -”

“You know what?!” She suddenly exclaims, her voice brightening like a lightbulb just radiated in her thoughts. “Mrs. Carson’s son is here with her for the summer too! I bet you haven’t seen him in ages, and he’s gotten so handsome.”

“Mrs. Carson?” You didn’t have any clue who that was.

“Well… you might remember her as Mrs. Bang, but Jane changed her name when she married Norbert a few years ago. She still lives next door and Christopher’s in town spending the summer with his mother.”

Bang…

Christopher…

You hadn’t heard that name in years. It surprised you a bit actually, and a hint of a smile came to your lips.

“Yeah, yeah, Mom… I’ll think about it.”

You wouldn’t admit… something did grab your attention. A curiosity of sorts.

You were fifteen years old when you had your first kiss. He was a short boy with a kind smile, a bit awkward really, but you had a fondness for him. It wasn’t about looks at all, all boys at that age were hideous and nothing would change your opinion on that, but you’d swoon whenever you saw him. It was mutual, an icky teenage infatuation that had your friends poking fun at both of you whenever you’d become giddy at the sight of one another. Hot faces, nervous glances, trembling innocent touches.

He sat next to you in chemistry and you’d hold hands under the lab table while the teacher gave class. His left hand always felt soft in your right one. Cute. It’s a bit silly but you’re glad you had that sort of adorable and silly romance. While it lasted, that is.

Christopher wasn’t a bad guy. He was stupid, like all boys that age.

When you saw him kissing another girl, of course you cried, but you knew it had to do with him being stupid more than anything. This simple looking girl that you had been friends with in elementary school, you can’t even remember her name.

You know why he did it, beyond his stupidity. Your mom had let it slip long before - you knew it was coming.

“Honey, would you believe? Mr. and Mrs. Bang are divorcing!” Probably just some hot gossip from one of her PTA yoga groups, no ill intention on your behalf. She didn’t know you were seeing Christopher - over your dead body. You were fifteen and a horrible student, you didn’t need to give your mother yet another element to ground you with.

“Oh no…” You acted as normally as you could, your first thoughts went out to Christopher first though. “Do you know why?”

“Well… I’m obviously not going to ask, duh! But I do know that Mr. Bang is taking the kid with him abroad.” What?! What did she just say? Chis is WHAT?!

“I - uh, what?” Act normal, act normal, act normal.

“Aww… sweetie, was he your friend?” Goodness, parents can be so oblivious, but it’s beneficial in this case. She doesn’t pick up on the depression of your mood.

“I guess.” A sniffle is about to threaten your composure so, in your teenage arrogance, you leave before your mother can see your teary eyes.

The subsequent days were strange. You expected Christopher to tell you the news, you expected to comfort him, you expected to live out the rest of your young romance as best as you could. And then… you saw him.

And he said nothing. He was cold, pushed you away. He must be going through a lot of pain, you thought. More days went by and he still said nothing, and his demeanor grew worse, no affection, no smiles. He must be having a hard time, you reasoned.

Sometimes you thought he was on the verge of saying something to you, like he was about to say something and the words threatened to come out but he’d suddenly pull away and swallow them. You didn’t question it really, it was so confusing but you just went with it.

You never held his hand in chemistry again.

Time made you realize that Christopher didn’t want to be with you anymore. You weren’t sure if it was because he stopped liking you, and that hurt a little, but you knew what he was going through, and you stood by him in case he ever chose to open up and cry on your shoulder. You’d be there for him.

When he kissed that girl, it didn’t really surprise you. Damn it, what was her name? You cried, you thought it was because you were ugly and your boobs were still pretty small - stupid reasons.

It took a few months for you to understand the real reason.

He left without saying goodbye. You never spoke to him after he kissed what’s-her-name. Maybe he tried to do so a couple of times, but you ran away or didn’t let him. Or maybe you remembered it that way to comfort you, just so you’d live with the thought that he tried to apologize, tired to make things right.

But the fact of the matter is he didn’t speak to you and he didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t want to.

He didn’t want to say goodbye because it hurt.

He was trying to ruin your relationship so you’d break up with him and he wouldn’t have to say goodbye, so that he could kill the feelings you had for him to spare you from the pain of his departure.

Or maybe you were just imagining it like that to make it a cuter memory and think about it fondly.

Maybe in the end, Christopher was just a horny teenage boy that cheated on you. Maybe.

Regardless, you giggle as you think back on the silliness of it all, and how serious and life altering it all felt in your childishness. It seemed so long ago, so distant, and you were so changed that it felt like it had all happened to a different person. You wondered about the man next door, and the entirely different boy who had once been next door. What kind of person had Christopher become?

University did you well. It was four solid years of irresponsible drinking and uninhibited sexual exploration paired with relatively easy academics. You don’t know how it happened, but it had been like a transformation from one day to the next.

You, sort of, kind of, absolutely plain and normal girl that no one would notice lest you stepped in their line of sight. One day, there you were - normal.

Two weeks in - boom. Confident. Your roommate was an okayish girl, another plain one. Then you started noticing how comfortable you were undressing in front of her, to change clothes or whatever, as if it was the most normal thing in the world - which it was. Wearing shorts and skirts became less of a worry, just something that felt better. Sometimes you’d be thrown icky glances from some boys, which you hated, but others were acceptably flirty and you loved those. The best ones were the boys that would get shy and who would quickly whip their heads the other way once you caught them staring.

That definitely flipped the switch. It made you feel strong, it made you feel damn good. You, who at the most had dipped a finger into the world of heavy makeouts during high school, now became a seasoned seductress of all kinds of men. So long as you could wrap them around your finger with your demeanor, so long as you could prowl over them and take the lead.

Ah… the good old days.

What was going to happen now, though? Four years later, no slightly inexperienced men left to be wowed. Everyone you knew was turning into a bland and bitter office worker. Was this the end of it?

To think that you’d be ending this glorious chapter of your life in this tiny town, lounging on the same stuffy couch in the same hot living room every day, having your routine philosophical melodrama where you’d stare at the ceiling in the afternoons until your mother came in inquiring if you were alive. It was a terrible fate.

A few days after the revelation of Christopher’s presence, which you would never admit had been circling your mind nonstop, your mother returns with another piece of information.

“You know, Jane and Norbert are having a get together of sorts next Saturday - just the usuals from the block.”

“Is that so?” You said with disinterest.

“In fact, I borrowed a baking pan from her last week… why don’t you go over and give it back to her for me? She might need it, and you probably haven’t left this house in days.” You didn’t reply, but you could feel her eyes on you, waiting for you to obey.

“Fine…”

The afternoon was enjoyably fresh, although your white t-shirt stuck to you like a second skin, the bikini top you wore underneath tracing its silhouette into the cotton. You lazily stomped your way to the house next door, admiring the tall window where you had snuck into Christopher’s room a couple of times during your short romance. A ladder was perched up against the exterior toward that window, they must have been fixing things up. The porch was full of cans of paint, tools, boxes. It was only when you rang on the doorbell, begrudgingly holding the large tray, that you realized that Jane might not be the one to open the door but instead it could be -

The door swings open and you gasp. Christopher.

Well… his face hadn’t changed much. But he was slightly taller than you remembered, far more masculine, oh, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Yeah, he was shirtless… jeans hanging low on his hips… shirtless… abs… fit waist… arms…

“Hi! Is Jane home?” Good… pretend you don’t remember him.

“I - Uh… no, my mom’s actually out right now.” He replied. His voice had grown deeper, and where did he get that accent? Wait - did he not remember you? Now, that just made you angry, but you wouldn’t let it show.

“Oh, well… my mother wanted me to return this.” You say handing him the tray, avoiding trailing your eyes downward.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll give it to her.” He says. He seems a little frozen, an expression between surprise and caution lingers on his face, but you don’t know if it’s good or bad.

There’s a moment of silence where you just stare at each other.

“Y/n…” He finally says. There’s hesitation in the way he says your name. He’s scared, not of you, but he’s scared about the fact that you’re on his doorstep.

You don’t say anything, calmly, almost coyly, waiting for him to continue. You’d gotten rather good at pretending you were calm, and the slightest tint of a smile painted your lips so you wouldn’t seem cold or ingenuine.

“Do you remember me?” He asks. You can’t help but huff, a tiny laughter really.

“Of course. You know, you haven’t grown much taller.”

With those slightly playful words, you turn to walk back to your home, and with each step your impression of the encounter with your childhood love became more bitter and less sweet.

It was strange how you thought about him, about it. The situation, that is. Seeing him, talking to him, both of you now being older. A few days of thinking now.

You don’t know why you thought about it so much, but you thought about it. You thought about it without knowing how you felt about it or what you thought about it. This man you had only gotten a glimpse of, too overwhelmed to take in his features properly, now walks around your mind freely. He wasn’t the boy you knew. He wasn’t the boy next door whose hand you’d once hold in chemistry, who you’d kiss before turning the corner towards both of your homes. The boy who left all those years ago.

No, it wasn’t that boy. It was that man, who kept perturbing you. What did you feel? Interest? Yes, there was something quite intriguing about all of this which sparked your curiosity. Lust? Of course, absolutely, the man next door looked divine. Suppose you could abstract the person from his body, so that you wouldn’t be so bothered by who he was and what he meant to you, and you’d easily bend over in front of him and invite him in.

You supposed a conversation was in place, though, because after all, he was still the Christopher. You couldn’t just go around fucking people like that anymore - unfortunately. That was something you got away with in college. It’s a shame college boys grow up to be boring men, sex gets more boring, they think they have all the authority… Maybe you should go back to school.

You’re sitting on the windowsill of your second floor bedroom, one leg hanging out and stepping onto the roof. Opposite to your window, beyond a neat shrub, is the window of the guest room of Mrs. Carson, formerly Bang, which seems unchanged from when you last saw it. You remember watching her from your room, also unchanged, using the TV in there to do some aerobics she followed along from a VHS… was it a VHS? No, that’s the machine. What were the things you used to put in the VHS? A cassette? No… regardless, eventually she must have started using DVD’s.

Damn it, it all seemed like thousands of years ago.

Damn it, you were still so melodramatic throwing around words like poetry over some Richard Simmons tape. Aha! It’s a tape!

Your crotch is being dug into by the window frame, and you let your weight rest on it, the slight grind tempting you to have a round of masturbation. But you’ll finish the cigarette you stole from your mother first. It tasted awful, it was another adult thing you couldn’t understand. Why did everyone at university smoke so much? It was just another thing their eager teenage selves did to emulate the adults in grown-up world, to feel a little more grown-up. Who the hell likes this stuff?

But you liked watching it burn, occasionally inhaling its airy and bitter smoke. It wasn’t your preferred type of smore. You preferred watching papers and matches burn, their sweet and rich smell, the warmth of the fire that would sting the edges of your fingers. Shame your mother only used a lighter, you didn’t like the smell of that fire either.

You just surrendered to watching the bright tip of the cigarette and the white streams that came from it.

“You know those are bad for you.”

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You exclaimed, your heart nearly jumping out from your chest. A man had sprung out from the window in the guest room of the Carson house, formerly Bang, and that man was Christopher Bang himself.

“Sorry I didn’t -”

“You almost gave me a fucking heart attack - what the hell?!”

“ - mean to startle you…”

“Damn it, Christopher!”

“Ah! So you do remember me?” He says with a bit of joy, but you just look at him, realizing that this is where the talk will come. His features grow a little more somber. He continues, “So… I guess I -”

“Where’d you get the accent?” You interrupt, genuinely curious. “You sound like the crocodile hunter.”

“Well… I was living in Australia with my dad.” He says it in a normal tone, but you make sure it doesn’t stay normal.

“Oh, so that’s where you went?” You both wince at what you just said. Yep, it’s finally time for that talk.

There’s a bit of silence, but you’ll let him be the one to fill it.

“I…” He sighs deeply. Uuhh… it’s quite a masculine sigh. “I didn’t know you’d be here. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again but I… there’s something I’ve always wanted to say.”

“I’m listening…” You say. It’s a flat tone, but it’s funny. You hope it’ll ease him.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry.” Some silence again, “I’m sorry for being an ass, I’m sorry for cheating on you -”

“Chris, we were like fifteen… you kissed a girl with braces, big deal.” You waved it off. Really, kissing that girl didn’t bother you so much, now almost ten years later.

“I left without saying anything.”

“Yeah, you did. Hard to not notice.”

“I was - I know it’s not an excuse, but I was going through a lot and I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“So you left without saying anything?”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok… we haven’t spoken in years. I practically forgot about it.” No you didn’t.

“Did you?” He says. Was he hopeful when you insinuated he hadn’t hurt you as much as he thought he had?

“No, not really. I mean, yeah, you kissing another girl was pretty insignificant, we were just kids. It did hurt that you left without… I don’t know… There wasn’t any closure. There wasn’t a goodbye. I felt confused for a while, I guess.”

“I’m so sorry about that. But my parents were splitting up, I was going to have to leave everything behind. You were the first girl I loved and I was going to have to say goodbye and I couldn’t handle it. I was too hurt and embarrassed to even tell my friends. I wish I had done it differently.”

“Yeah, I wish you had too. I wanted to be there for you, you know? I wanted to hug you, hold your hand, tell you it was going to be ok.

“I really messed up there…”

“It’s okay Chris, you were just a kid. We were just kids.” You offer your sympathy but he doesn’t soften.

“Mhmm. Doesn’t make me feel less guilty about it.”

“Can I ask you something?” He nods, “Did you do all that stuff… you know, treat me that way, for real or where you…?”

“I was hoping you’d break up with me, get over me. That way we wouldn’t have to say goodbye and we wouldn’t get hurt.”

“I got hurt.” You admit.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” You insist. “It’s fine. We’re fine. We’re old and grown and fine. All of that’s in the past, I can’t blame you for acting like a kid. It’s okay.”

“Well I can agree with you there. We did grow up, not kids anymore.”

“You didn’t grow that much.” You laugh, he laughs too.

“You certainly did.” He’s being flirty. It could have been bad timing, but the mood felt right.

“Oh, you noticed?”

“Hard not to.” Goodness was he being direct. “You were really cute back in school, I had a crush on you for like, forever.”

“Really…Plain old me?”

“Really. And now here we are and I think I could have a crush on you all over again.”

“So you can go off and kiss another girl with braces and leave the continent?”

“No, I’m a one woman man.” He says while making himself comfortable on his own ledge. It’s getting comfortable overall, like you’re talking to someone you’ve known for the longest time, like a decade of separation didn’t do much harm.

“Well, well. And who is that lucky woman now?”

“There’s no one at the moment. I’m in the middle of some life changes.”

“Do tell.”

“I’m moving back. Well, not here, just in the country again. A big city, big job, kinda scary.”

“Seems we’re on the same boat. I just came back to say goodbye to this place forever and I’m ooout.”

“Did you finish school already?”

“Yeah… I wish I hadn’t though.” You think back on your experience with longing, lamenting it’s end.

“Wow, can’t relate. I couldn’t wait for it to end. What’d you miss about it?”

“Well, I didn’t have to work, grades were good and easy. And I guess, it was tons of fun.”

“How so?”

“Being on a campus full of horny and stupid guys - it was open game.” Chan hisses at your admission.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for that type.” He chuckles, “You would stutter for like the first two months we went out.”

“We were just kids.”

“I guess we were…”

Another comfortable silence as you stare off at the sky, your cigarette burnt through with only the spongy bud left to pinch.

“Chris?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m single too, you know.”

It might have been a bad idea, you said it on impulse after all, something quite instinctive having taken over you. Maybe you were just horny and Christopher was just hot, regardless, the conversation was over. Before he could even process what you said, and the implications to it, you had already slipped back into your darkened room and out of his sight.

Chan felt like a teenager again. Not in a good way.

Chan remembered your first kiss, holding your hand. He remembered your breasts being the first he had ever really noticed, your legs being the first he ever caressed. He remembers how you’d press your bodies together while you kissed, not really understanding what both of you felt, only understanding the urgency of it.

Now he can name those feelings, the ones that once belonged to an inexperienced boy, merely dipping his toes into the surface of that world. But now that he dove, and had dived into its waters several times, he knew how to swim in them.

Yet, seeing you made him feel like he didn’t. It made him feel like he couldn’t swim, like he couldn’t breathe. He felt like he was drowning.

The first moment he saw you on his doorstep he felt his stomach drop, a pang of guilt that had lingered on his mind during countless of sleepless nights hitting him with full force. He didn’t expect it. He thought he would never see you again.

And after taking another look, a longer look, it was like he was swimming in completely different waters. He felt submerged, and he didn’t know which way was up. He wanted to open his mouth and swallow it all up, let you drown him.

He hadn’t felt this raging feeling since he was a teenager. He certainly hadn’t had a specific woman make him feel like this until you.

It made him feel another kind of guilt. Shame even.

The following days he’d watch you, shamefully. His mother had him painting the house and when he stood on the rooftops he took his time to enjoy the view of you swimming in your pool, wearing tiny bikinis that stuck to your skin and showed the buds of your niples and the lines of your labia through the fabric. He would admit, shamefully, that he stopped watching from the roof because he needed to get closer to see these beautiful details.

He now watched you from over the fence in his backyard. Getting incredibly hard watching you swim, watching you oil your body down.

It was all horribly, horribly shameful.

But weren’t you the one that mentioned you were single? It had caught him off guard. He was being cheeky in that moment, but he didn’t know what waters he was testing then. Now he knew, and it was making him behave so, so shamefully.

Should he go over there, push you into a corner of the pool and pull your bottoms to the side? Should he kneel at your feet while your rubbing yourself with that golden oil, and beg you to let him fuck you?

It wasn’t just the thought of sex that drove him mad, it was you in general. How inferior he felt in front of you, like he had to prove himself. Every day he worked shirtless, hoping you’d get a glimpse of him, but you were just so unbothered by it all.

It was driving him fucking insane.

If only you knew.

Except - of course you did. Of course you did. This is what you craved, what you were best at. Driving boys, technically men but boys sounds tastier, to be absolute slaves to their desire for you. Christopher wasn’t doing a good job at hiding it. Did he really think that you would suddenly spend every day swimming in the tiniest bikinis after having not left your couch for over a week? They really are such stupid, fuckable animals.

And Chris was particularly fuckable.

Day four of his perverted project, he was hammering away at some boards in the back porch of his house. Your mother wouldn’t be home for hours, his parents were away for a couple of days.

Everything was perfect.

“Chris?!” You call loudly over the fence from your chaise lounge, carelessly flipping through a book. The hammering stopped, he had heard you. “Chris, it’s hot today. Don’t you think you should come over for a swim to cool down?”

Why on earth were you acting so damn unbothered and confident, he thought. Why on earth were you asking him over?

It’s only a matter of time before he circles his own house and slides in through the gate on your end. He’s still wearing jeans and a utility belt, gloves too. No shirt.

“You can’t really swim in those, take them off.” You hardly peered at him from over your sunglasses. He was just standing there, frozen. That’s usually a sign that you’re working your magic well. Good. “Come on Christopher, take them off.”

“I - uh, I’m actually not wearing trunks right now. Uhm… I’ll be right back.”

“Oh, you don’t have to go.” Insert unbothered page flip. “Why don’t you just undress and get in the pool so I can join you?”

“W-what?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He genuinely thought he had imagined it, maybe all of his hornyness was driving him insane.

“Christopher!” You whine. “You’re ruining the fun!” You slam the book shut and throw it over to the side, taking your sunglasses and hat off. “Chris, I think it’s obvious. Do you think I haven’t noticed you being a peeping tom for the past half week? Look! You’ve already got a tent in your pants and everything!”

“Fuck.” Shit, you were right.

“This is like, hmm, like an open invitation to fuck me.” You say with an eye roll, but your eyes roll toward his abs because they are absolutely distracting you.

“Are… are you serious?”

“Well… You want to, I want to. You’re nice, look like you’ve become quite a decent man - and I’m not just referring to your physique Chris. Maybe, just maybe, it would be an excellent idea if we finally fucked this tension away.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. You’re here for a few weeks, so am I. Why not enjoy each other while we can? After that we can just go our separate ways, just like before except we’ll end it on good terms.”

Too many points for him to argue with - you were right on all of them. He couldn’t disagree. In fact, he eagerly agreed. Little did he know you had this pitch rehearsed to perfection, to your benefit, because he seemed to be completely subdued by it.

“Fuck.” He mutters under his breath. Fumbling with his belt, zipper, exposing the line of his abdomen down to his hardening cock. A fat, heavy cock that swung between his muscular thighs. He was fully nude now, standing in front of you, his tan skin glistening in the sunlight. You’re quick to urge him over with a finger.

He pounces, but once he’s crawling over you on that narrow chair, he becomes slow.

“Hi.” You manage to whimper out, now feeling a bit small beneath him, feeling nervous even.

“Hey.” He’s just as nervous but there’s an energy that goes beyond either of your wills pulling you toward one another.

He kisses you. It’s a kiss you melt into, and he sinks his body against yours, with you spreading your legs so he can slot between them. His cock rests against your lower abdomen, his body pressing further into you.

You can’t help but slide your hand between your two bodies in an attempt to finger yourself, prepare yourself, but he stops you and pulls back.

“No.” He growls.

“No?” Is he going to leave you like this?!

“Let me.”

And you do. Chan lowers himself, adjusting you so he can easily bend over the chair while kneeling on the ground, and his hands shake as he dips the tip of his fingers into the hem of your bottoms, just slightly tugging at the material, playing with it before he starts to play with you. You’ve got the perfect view of him basically drooling over you.

He slides the bottoms to the side, but you pull at the strings at your hips, so they come undone and he pulls them away completely. Your lips and the juices coming from between them are just as glossy than your oiled skin.

He can’t help but dig in. Fucking you with his mouth, jamming his fingers in you. It’s an animalistic frenzy and it’s hot and slippery and sticky. You cum and your fluids spill over the impermeable cushion below, pooling under your ass. He can see every sparkling droplet fall from you.

It’s just a haze, he nearly jumps on you, bending your legs nearly over your head, bouncing his pelvis on your cunt like a trampoline, smacking with every thrust. You’re completely glued to one another. If he’s not abusing your mouth with his tongue then he’s biting on your shoulder or grunting, growling, into your ear. It’s filthy. You’re absolutely sure you’ve never been fucked like this.

He cums, several times, as do you. He pulls out each time, jerks himself off on your body, although a couple of times you urged him into your mouth and face. He pulls the triangles on your top to the sides, so your breasts are exposed. He made sure to cum on those too. Semen, sweat, squirt, oil, spit, everywhere there are droplets of your fluids shining on your body like jewels.

It ends with him lying on top of you, nearly sleeping from exhaustion, and your lips feel deliciously sore and sensitive, almost ticklish as he softens inside of you.

It happens again. Several times in fact. Many, many times. When his parents are away, when your mom is away, you fuck all the time. Just a little call of his name over the fence or from your window and he’d be running to you. You were too comfortable with one another to bother with formalities, it was like you’d never been separated. You’d wait for him on all fours, wet cunt on display for him to dive in, but he’d always greet you with a gentle kiss.

Fucking each others faces, drinking eachothers fluids. You even let him fuck you in the ass, multiple times, and he was the first guy to make you cum that way. You were just as hooked and as desperate as he was.

Things started to change though.

The welcoming kisses became longer, you’d talk between the rounds…

You’d fall asleep in his arms, or he in yours.

You’d fuck slowly, deeply, staring into each other’s eyes.

You’d talk to him, tell each other stories of all these years, asi if you had been together the entire time.

You’d smile as you made love, gently. You’d let him cum inside of you.

He’d hold your hand again. They were as soft and warm as you remembered.

You were holding his hand on one particular pink evening, your head resting on his heaving chest, teaching circles into his pecs and nipples. On your bed, in your quiet childhood room. It was a painful silence now. It had been weeks, weeks closer to your respective departure dates.

“I wish I had never left.” He eventually says. You don’t know what to say. “I wish we could have stayed like this for longer.”

“Maybe we would have broken up eventually, or left for college.” You ponder.

“Maybe I would have taken you to prom, or we would have had sex together for the first time…” He returns.

“On this bed? Hmm? With my cute school uniform?” You tease. “Yeah, maybe.”

“But I guess this is what was meant to be.” He sighs, as do you.

“I’m sorry.” Is all you can say.

“What for?”

“I don’t know, I just feel bad. I started this and now we have to go our separate ways again.” You feel something sting in your eye. You can’t cry now.

“Shh…” He coos as he hears you sniffle and feels you twitch. It makes his heart ache like it did all those years ago when he left.

“I - I…” You cry. “I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to go.”

He pulls you into his arms, crushing you in an embrace. Your eyes are closed but you feel the tears fall from his face, he’s crying too.

“I know… but what else can we do?”

There was nothing left to do, other than fuck the days away, crying, holding each other until it hurt. It was a horrible, horrible thing to have fallen in love with Christopher Bang this final summer.

You didn’t go with him to the airport. You didn’t want to say goodbye, you didn’t want to see where he was going.

But he did slip into your room that final night. You made love quietly, he kissed you as you cried.

He said it was the second time he loved you, and the second time he had to leave you.

It hurt much more this time around. Maybe you shouldn’t have done it, maybe you shouldn’t have gone next door.

Being in your house was unbearable once Chris wasn’t next door.

A week later, you’ve arrived at your new place. It had been a whirlwind and you stayed at a hotel the first couple of nights while your new furniture got brought in, most of your personal belongings only fitting in a couple of bags.

It’s kept you busy. That way you think about him a little less. Crying into pillows that have that certain ‘brand new’ smell isn’t quite as comforting as you’d expect. Everything seems unfamiliar, strange, artificial. Nothing here reminded you of him - it was for the best and you hated it.

The place is nice, bright. It’s on the third floor of a small apartment building, a couple of other doors beside yours in the hall. You go downstairs to grab a few packages that have arrived, carefully treading up the stairs in a kind of balancing act once they’re piled in your arms. It’s a choreography you can dance to with expertise, always denying any help from your neighbors.

However, you do fumble with the lock and handle once you’re at your door, holding the boxes up by pressing them against the door with your body as your hands blindly fumble with the keys, nothing but cardboard in your sight.

Nothing you can’t handle, until they start to slip.

“Woah, let me help you with that!” someone says behind you, and in your complicated state it’s a bit difficult to process what happens but the boxes are soon out of the way, said someone pulling them from you and freeing you.

And then you see him.

Him.

Your him.

He says your name and you’re too stunned to react. He’s in awe too. He drops your packages, and you’re certain some of them contain some makeup palettes but you don’t give a damn at the moment.

“What are you doing here?” You finally ask, frozen in place.

“I… live in 304.” He says.

“You live in 304?” He nods. “You? You’re serious?” He nods again, eyes still wide.

You both stand there, processing it all. This can’t be real.

“I live in 302.” you manage to say, after some time. Your voice is weak, all the air has left your lungs. You shake.

“You do?” He asks. Now you nod.

This can’t be.

But he cups your face, holds it like you’re precious and delicate, he kisses you. It is real. You kiss him back, harder. Eventually you’re both clinging to one another, gripping each other’s clothes desperately.

“You live here.” He says, little tears sparkling in the corner of his eyes. You nod, the same tears coming to you.

“I do. Mm-hmm.” The sniffles you let out seem so sweet to him, he swoons with how happy you are to see him. Knowing you feel the same joy he does - it makes him feel complete.

“I live here too!” He cries, laughing, smiling, beautifully.

One more kiss, just to make sure it’s real. You pull him in and kiss him one more time.

It’s real.