#the perfect emote for the loneliest boy

[matcha-bnuuy]

This one goes out to all 5 magnai fans out there this Valentines

Could you be his Nhaama..?

#Matcha-bnuuy #FFXIV #FF14 #Final Fantasy 14 #Final Fantasy XIV #magnai oronir #magnai #gpose #screenshot #screenshots #the perfect emote for the loneliest boy #xaela #au ra #any other gpose requests with my Magnai clone? just ask LOL #all 5 fans and i'm one of them baby! YEEHAW #vidya games

[hairmetal666]

Eddie is sixteen and his magic is incredibly volatile. He's powerful and he has trouble not accidentally casting when his emotions are high (which is always) or casting on a whim, not being careful enough of his words, and suffering the unintended consequences. Wayne ends up hiding the grimoires and family journals until Eddie learns a little more control, and is the first to realize that Eddie casts better while he's playing music. They develop a system, by no means perfect, where Eddie composes a song based on how the spell feels.

Sixteen is also the year Eddie falls in love. He's always known he liked boys, but never thought about relationships. He lives in Hawkins and is a witch, for god's sake. He sneaks off to Indy, goes to bars, but can't imagine having something like a boyfriend.

Jackson is new in town, already 17 but in Eddie's grade. It starts as friendship, but before long Jackson kisses him. Eddie thinks it's like a fairytale. It ends when Jackson's military dad is transferred to a base overseas. It's mundane. It rips Eddie's heart to shreds.

After, Eddie does a spell. He knows he shouldn't; he's too upset and his magic is unpredictable at the best of times. He doesn't care. He grabs his guitar, starts playing. The song is melodic, layered, sad. He starts babbling, casting a spell to never fall in love by creating the most beautiful, unrealistic boy in the world. He won't remember some of what he says--and that's a problem-- but knows he talks about a boy with a map of the night sky on his body, the loneliest king, the prettiest man in Hawkins, jock with a heart of gold, lover of nerds and small children, throws himself into danger with little thought for the consequences, shockingly kind, fantastically mean. He knows this person can't be real, too many contradictions, too many impossibilities.

Enter Steve Harrington.

Eddie knows Steve. Everyone does. And sure, the guy is hot as hell, but the worst kind of douchebag jock, so Eddie never really considers him worth thinking of. And that would probably continue, but his new Hellfire recruits think the sun shines out of Harrington's ass, and apparently Robin Buckley is his best friend. It doesn't add up and Eddie's usually great at math.

Time passes and he starts to get it. He watches Dustin and Harrington do the dorkiest, nerdiest handshake and the joy that contorts Steve's face. It's so fucking beautiful, Eddie has to look away. He comes upon Harrington and Erica Sinclair bickering, both smart-assing, listens to the way Erica giggles about it once she thinks no one can hear. Or when he watches Steve drop Max Mayfield at home--Max who Eddie has never once seen smile, who he's always been just a little bit afraid of--and she's laughing and teasing him, beaming.

It's inevitable when they become friends. Steve is a wonder. Constantly a surprise. So pretty it's like looking directly at the sun. When Steve tells Eddie that he's bisexual, it drops off his tongue with no hint of unease, no consideration for how he's upending Eddie's world view.

One night they're getting high, just the two of them, and he's asking if Steve wants to shotgun and Steve smirks and leans in, and then they're kissing. Doing way more than kissing.

They keep hooking up, but it's nothing. It's Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington who wants the all-American white picket fence, wife, 2.5 kids, and a dog. Not a dnd playing-metalhead-nerd-witch dude. And if Eddie feels himself growing inexplicably more and more fond, well, he's made damn sure love isn't in the cards for him anymore.

They're laying in Eddie's bed one night, Eddie tracing gentle fingers between the moles and freckles on Steve's back.

"That tickles," Steve murmurs. "What are you doing?"

"Mapping the constellations," he whispers.

Steve's laugh vibrates Eddie's ribcage, as does the rumble of his voice saying, "my mom used to do that when I was a kid. Said she was looking for the big dipper."

He presses his lips against the top of Steve's spine to stop from saying something unkind about his parents, who never loved their absolute gift of a son enough, leaving him lonely and forgotten in that big, cold house. He freezes as soon as he has the thought, remembers that spell. It's nothing, of course. The spell was to repel love, not get Steve Harrington into his bed.

They keep sleeping together, spend almost all their time together. Eddie's enamored but it doesn't matter. Steve isn't his, not really, and never will be. Eddie made sure of it.

But one day Steve comes over and sees this old Casio keyboard Gareth brought over.

Steve flips it on, starts hitting notes; at first dicking around, but then sliding into Clare de Lune.

"You play the piano?" Eddie asks. He knows he has a dopey smile on his face, his heart doing something terrible in his chest even though he's not in love.

"Took lessons until I was ten," Steve smiles up at him, blushing when their eyes meet.

Eddie has to walk away or he's going to do something like drop to one knee and propose. Steve keeps playing, transitioning from Debussy to something infinitely sweeter, so sad it makes Eddie's heart ache.

He stands in the doorway to his bedroom for at least thirty seconds, before storming back into the living room. "What are you playing?" he demands.

It startles Steve, whose fingers still as he looks at Eddie with giant eyes. "Uh, I don't know. It gets stuck in my head sometimes. I thought it was Ozzy or Dio or whatever. It only happens when we're together. You don't recognize it?"

Eddie recognizes it. Eddie recognizes it and Steve shouldn't know it. Eddie didn't write it down , just like he didn't write down the words of the spell.

"Get out," he says. Mean because he's trying not to fall apart.

"What? Eds, what're y--"

"No, you need to leave, Harrington. Right fucking now."

"Eddie, tell me what I did. Let me fix it, please."

"Not on you. But you have to go," Eddie is shaking and Steve's eyes fill with tears.

He doesn't fight, though. His mouth pinches and he shoves his way outside.

Eddie panics and cries, tries to remember as much of that fucking spell as he can before Wayne comes home.

The first words out of Wayne's mouth when he sees Eddie curled up on the couch are, "What'd you do this time, kid?"

He spills it all, every last detail, and Wayne listens in silence, eyebrows peaked.

"It's that Harrington boy?" He asks when the tale is told.

"How'd you know?" Eddie asks.

"Are you kidding me? I see the way you look at each other. You love him?"

Eddie nods, burying his face in his knees. "He doesn't want this, though. He only likes me because I fucking spelled him to."

Wayne rests a hand on Eddie's shoulder. "Kid, I thought I taught you magic better than that. Better go make things right while you can. Then we're going to have a long talk."

Eddie wants to ask what the point is in making it right. It's already too late, after what he's done. Still, he makes the drive to Loch Nora.

Steve opens the door in sweatpants and a stretched out t-shirt, his hair undone. He's sad, Eddie realizes.

"You here to tell me what I did yesterday?"

"Like I said, it wasn't you. Can I come in?"

Steve nods, steps aside.

"Well?" Steve prompts.

Eddie explains exactly what he did four years ago, what it lead them to. When he finishes, he braces for Steve's anger, for yelling. Instead, Steve throws his head back and laughs.

"You're not mad?" Eddie asks. "Or you're so mad that all you can do is laugh?"

"Not mad," Steve confirms.

"Why not? How can you trust me now? Trust this?" He gestures between them.

"I don't know, dude. It's not like you...designed me, or something. I didn't wake up one day when I was fifteen with a bunch of new moles. I told you about my mom. Plus, that would be medically concerning. And I definitely already had crushes on other boys. So, you didn't make me bi."

"What about being kind? What about the kids and being protective?"

Steve just shrugs. "I think a lot of that was due to Nancy, but I guess I can't stay it wasn't the spell."

"You're too calm about this. I took away your free will!"

"Did you?" Steve raises an eyebrow, way too unbothered. "Maybe the spell brought us together. Took a damn long time to do it, but I don't feel like I have no choice in this." He turns more towards Eddie, taking his hands. "I like what we have. But if you don't feel that way, we can end it."

It's Eddie's turn to laugh. "Not feel that way? Harrington, I don't know if you've heard, but you're the man of my dreams. I am, unfortunately, wildly in love with you. I just--this isn't what you want, right? Not forever. You want a wife. Kids. All that shit."

"Who says? We could have a family, Eds, if we want. Hell, we already do! We're raising six kids. And, yeah, maybe I will decide I want a wife and all that one day. I'm 90% sure nothing magical is stopping me. The only thing that is, the thing that matters, is that I want you. Not because of a spell." Steve smiles, face turning a delicious pink. "But because I love you too."

He squeezes his eyes shut to force back the tears that want to fall, kisses Steve instead. Their mouths slide together in perfect sync, and Eddie wants to get lost in it forever; in Steve's lips on his, the snag of his teeth, the way he clutches at Eddie's curls.

When they pull apart, Steve starts laughing again. "I can't believe I'm your perfect man."

"Oh my god," Eddie's face flares with heat. "You have to forget this ever happened. Your ego's too big as it is."

"Nah, this? This I'm remembering forever."

They kiss for a long time before Steve says, "I think I understand why that song was so sad now. You should write us a new one."

Eddie pulls Steve close, thinking that he'll write Steve whatever he wants for the rest of their lifetime.

#steddie #eddie x steve #steve harrington #eddie munson #practical magic au #eddie munson is a witch #wayne munson is a witch #i put a spell on you #spell casting shenanigans #steve harrington is eddie's impossible dream guy #musical spell casting #angst #happy ending #magic #ficlet #one shot #good uncle wayne munson #steve harrington plays the piano

[oblivions-arts-culture]

ENVY'S TOP TEN ALBUMS OF 2022 (PART 2)

5-1 this time!!! No extras on this one I prommy <3 top ten is top 11 ONLY

5

Everyone’s favourite Satanic metal group are at the height of their powers right now. If you couldn’t tell by the huge spike in their popularity, it’s evident in the confidence – arrogance, even – of the latest incarnation of frontman Papa Emeritus. Tobias Forge’s devilish diva is brimming with Ego on the group’s fifth album, from the patriotic call-to-arms of Kaisarion to the Disney-Villain antics of Twenties. But that swagger betrays a rot at the heart of IMPERA’s imagined empire. Beneath the righteous glory and titanic industries of ‘progress’, the people at the epicentre of this empire still can’t walk home safely at night. That’s the stark message hiding on this album - and it’s Forge��s ability to be so incisive in spite of the silliness of Ghost’s premise, that cements this project as one of metal’s most engaging.

4

When you know that no pop artist does fun quite like Carly Rae Jepsen, an album name like this might lead you to believe her latest album is more sombre than usual. There’s some truth to that – the moodiness of tracks like Joshua Tree and Talking to Yourself are a new turn for the Canadian queen, as is the laidback softness of Western Wind. The most successful divergence from her usual style is the heart-breaking faux-country breakup track Go Find Yourself Or Whatever. But make no mistake; joy is still the defining ethos of Jepsen’s material, despite the circumstances, and the euphoria that she brings on this record is second to none. Because she’s right; we really have had the loneliest time. But what’s the point in not dancing and being in love anyway?

3

The last few years have been no stranger to incisive social commentary, but in my opinion there’s a key element to our modern age that’s missing from a lot of attempts to figure out what’s going on: how completely absurd it all is. Enter Viagra Boys’ bizarre post-punk magnum opus, to tackle the insanity of our times head-on. The humour of the affair adds a necessary bite to the band’s commentary – it would come off as absurd if it weren’t such a perfect reflection of the experience of scrolling through online opinion pieces. It’s eclectic, it’s incapable of standing still, it’s insane and it is very funny. But it’s also not shy about how bleak it all is. You have to laugh, because if you don’t, you’ll scream, and Cave World captures that sensation better than anything else this year.

2

Very few albums this year rewarded your patience and careful attention as generously as Ethel Cain’s debut LP. Between a gorgeous atmospheric intro and a cathartic, emotive opener in American Teenager, your opening minutes are nothing short of awe-inspiring. From here, the album pivots between hazy moments of ethereal worldbuilding, and earth-shattering, subterranean explosions of catharsis, all as part of an engrossing tale of intergenerational trauma. The album is a vicious cycle of gut punches followed by warm embraces, and it will consume you if you let it. You should let it.

1

This does not feel like listening to an album. This feels like being delivered a profane sermon, inside the rotting corpse of a church, at the blackened end of everything. There is a bile, a malice that has been allowed to fester at the heart of our society for all too long, and Ashenspire have captured this with all the anger and disgust it warrants. Haunting and poetic in its lyricism without wasting the blunt rage of its delivery, musically varied but never lacking in aggression or creativity, Hostile Archiecture is a document of a society gone Wrong, as complete in its assessment as it is uncomfortable in the truths it makes you face. I hope an album like this never has to feel this necessary again.

My favourite songs from each album:

Wet Leg: Ur Mum

Black Country New Road: Good Will Hunting

Kendrick Lamar: Auntie Diaries

Big Thief: Flower of Blood

Friendship: Ugly Little Victory

Death's Dynamic Shroud: Judgment Bolt

Ghost: Respite on the Spitalfields

Carly Rae Jepsen: Go Find Yourself or Whatever

Viagra Boys: Ain't No Thief

Ethel Cain: Ptolemaea

Ashenspire: Cable Street Again

Part 1 (entries 10-6) is below!!!!

#I'm doing runners up/honourable mentions during the week!

[1kook]

commercial break: eleven

this is a netflix & chill drabble <3

SUMMARY You’re too bright, too… there. His shell is too small.

WARNINGS sadness, vulnerabilities, insecurity, self confidence issues, an idea of “feeling ugly”, tw // mental breakdowns and feelings of regression, crying, jk doesn’t want anyone near, oc tries her best to comfort him

RATING e for everyone

WC 1.2k

NOTES i love the idea of jk being the perfect man, but I also want to show moments where he isn’t so perfect and where he’s not the mature man oc thinks he is… I love my boy so much 😭😭 also it’s 1am helloooooo ALSO it’s formatted ugly bc I’m posting this from my phone 😀 I’ll fix it tmrw promise

Jungkook hates to admit it, but some days are harder than others.

Some days, Jungkook wakes up with an uncomfortably stifling feeling in his chest, one that threatens to wiggle its way into the loneliest parts of his heart and find permanent residency. A drowsy one, makes him linger in bed well past his preferred wake up time, the blackout curtains in his room ensheathing him in a sea of darkness that his heart is adamant on replicating. But it’s worse than drowning, because his lungs are clear; it’s just that he doesn’t have the strength, the willpower to force another breath— he just wants to lay there and do nothing.

“Good morning,” he hears from beside him, and a different weight presses against his side. You’re warm in the morning, soft too. He likes how you feel, he always does. But not today. Today, he doesn’t know how he feels about the overwhelming presence at his side. You’re too bright, too… there. His shell is too small. “You sleep okay?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer. The words don’t catch in his throat, but in the recesses of his mind instead, overlapping and overflowing until it feels like tv static, fuzzy and blurry— confusing. You shift beside him, and his heart kicks up an anxious rhythm. It’s not the normal butterflies that beat their wings against the walls of his rib cage when you smile, nor is it the thundering gallops of a dozen horses when you touch him just so. It’s this nauseating, terrified feeling, one that screams at him to answer lest he upset you with his silence.

There’s a hand on his chest, and he doesn’t like how it feels right now, just another suffocating layer to add on, but even worse he doesn’t know how to tell you that.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to. It slinks away, but that warning bell in his head is going off anyway, makes him look over at you in panic, only to find you propped up on your elbow, inquisitive eyes focused on him. Your features are still soft, and Jungkook is pretty sure there’s traces of last night’s makeup clinging to your lash line. You’re so pretty— you always are. Jungkook can’t handle this right now. You’re too pretty, and Jungkook feels ugly. (Ah, so that was the feeling.) You can’t look at Jungkook when he’s ugly, you won’t want Jungkook when he’s ugly.

“Hey,” you say softly, gently. Jungkook’s heart aches. A pair of fingers brush along his cheekbones, drag through the wetness that escapes the corners of his eyes, trails down toward his ears—when had he started crying?—where you delicately tuck his hair back. “I’m gonna get started on breakfast,” you tell him, voice hushed, whispering. Jungkook is hanging onto every single word, feels like you’ll disintegrate before his very eyes if he isn’t careful. You can probably tell. “You don’t have to eat right now, but it’ll be down there if you want, okay?”

You move to get off the bed, scooting away from him, leaving him behind. He’s fine with it until he isn't, until your hand touches the door knob to his room and a shameful sniffle escapes him. Loud too, loud enough to make you turn back in surprise. And that alarmed look on your face is enough to make Jungkook want to hide, hurriedly rolling over onto his stomach, burying his face into his pillow, arms clutching at the softness as he cries. You hurry back. He doesn’t want you to leave, but he doesn’t want you to see either. He doesn’t know what he wants.

“No,” he begs, turning the other way when your face comes up beside him, kneeling beside his side of the bed. “Don’t look at me— please.”

There’s a hand on his back, and Jungkook hates how much he loves it, hates how much he instinctively yearns to find comfort in you at a time like this. He was getting better, he’s been getting better. He swears he has; he has journals full of feelings to prove it, vulnerable text message threads with Namjoon to prove it.

But he won’t lie. The Valentine’s Day incident had left a bad taste in Jungkook’s mind, and these past few months have been hard. He feels like he’s regressing, like he’s back to being a teenager all over again. By itself, that knowledge sucks. Combined with the warm palm on his back and the loving voice calling his name— combined with the fact you've been watching Jungkook these past few months each and every time he’s woken up like this… it’s humiliating. “Don’t look,” he chokes out, each drag of your fingers through his hair sending a confused pang of emotions straight to his heart.

“Why can’t I look?” you ask quietly, toying with the strands of his hair. He sniffles. “What would I see?”

“Me,” Jungkook sobs, wishing the mattress would just up and swallow him.

You’re silent, a fact that Jungkook wishes he could appreciate had it not made the sounds of his anguish even more obvious. It makes him self-conscious, more than he already is, so he forces himself to quiet down. It doesn’t feel better, but it does let him hear your next words. “I like looking at you,” you tell him, and the bed dips down beside him. After a moment, you speak again. “Do you feel ugly today?”

Careful, calculated. Like he’s a ticking bomb and you don’t want him to blow. Briefly, he had explained it before, skirted around it in embarrassment as he talked about the way he felt. It had been months ago— maybe the weekend after Valentine’s —so he’s surprised you remember. Jungkook nods.

“Then I’ll wait,” you announce, and eventually he feels you settle in beside him. His head is still turned the other way, hiding shamefully, but he can feel your warm breath against his skin when you slowly cuddle in close. An arm wraps itself around his back. He doesn’t mind it this time— he just wants to be held now. “I’ll wait until you feel pretty again.”

Part of Jungkook wants to snap at you; he doesn’t want to feel pretty, he’s never felt pretty. Jungkook felt average at best, and on days where you stroked his ego, maybe even handsome. But pretty? That’s not something that’ll ever happen, and he doesn’t want you to waste your hopes on a possibility that does not exist.

But that’s mean, and he doesn’t want to chase you away, scare you away, even if he doesn’t want you to see him like this. So Jungkook shuts his mouth, stays still, tries to match the soft rise and fall of your chest against his side instead.

Some days he’s fine in a few minutes without a single tear shed. Other days are long. Other days are so painful and uncomfortable, he just wants to hide. He wants to climb into his shell and never come out, hide his ugliness from the world and never have to worry about being seen again.

You don’t lie to him, don’t feed him empty promises while you wait. You just lay silently at his side, pulling him closer when his sniffles get louder. You don’t say anything unnecessary and you never make it about yourself.

Lately his shell has grown bigger, wider, comfier. Big enough for someone else to squeeze in, hold him close when he doesn’t feel like himself.

He doesn’t hate it.

#networkbangtan #jeon jungkook fic #jungkook fic #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jjk #bts #bts x reader #bts x you #mine

[homestucksongcomics]

Masterpost of Song Comics Part I (A-K)

*Unfortunately, due to a peculiarity of tumblr, a post containing too many links will not have any of them function. Thus, the masterpost has been broken into two parts.*

Organized by musician alphabetically

Last updated on 07/18/2021

See Part II here: Masterpost of Homestuck Song Comics Part II (L-Z)

#:

Kryptonite - 3 Doors Down by absinthianlyunheroic

This is War - 30 Seconds to Mars by caffieneandcarpaltunnel

I’m Not Your Boyfriend Baby - 3HO!3 by awildcale

A:

Almost Lover - A Fine Frenzy by irlmako

New Tomorrow - A Friend In London by maria-artz

Hand Over Mouth, Over and Over - A Lot Like Birds by binart

Skyfall - Adele by stormfather

Song of Healing - Adriana Figueroa by talkshitnojutsu

Everything Stays - Adventure Time by starchip-one

Kiss my Eyes and Lay Me to Sleep - AFI by 413art

Prelude 12/21 - AFI by toastyhat

Another Day - Air by chubsintubs

A Whole New World - Aladdin by copper-fish

Mercy Me - Alkaline Trio by brainbent

Hothouse - Aly & AJ by dristr

Evelyn, Evelyn - Amanda Palmer by p-pamda

Luck - The American Authors by timehwimeh

21 Guns - American Idiot Cast by jankyweeaboo

Pittsburgh - The Amity Affliction by anafigreen

Inevitable - Anberlin by suchirolle

Ready to Die - Andrew W. K. by askherroyalcondesce

The Age of Not Believing - Angela Lansbury by toastyhat

Director - The Antlers by gin-and-djinn

Kettering - The Antlers by cloudymew

My Mamma Said - Aqua by xamag-homestuck

Suburbs - Arcade Fire by porrim-maryam and collaborators

Wake Up - Arcade Fire by catprinx

We Used to Wait - Arcade Fire by drawingspecibus

R U Mine? - Arctic Monkeys by dacadaca

The Ballad Of Love And Hate - The Avett Brothers by umjulikins

Hey Brother - Avicii by esmeblaise

Wake Me Up - Avicii by a-vodka-mutini

Sail - AWOLNATION by theamazingzombiegirl

B:

If I Die Young - The Band Perry by japhers

Memory - Barbra Strisand by toastyhat

Glitter and Gold - Barns Courtney by chibigaia-art

Daniel in the Den - Bastille by tomato-bird

Pompeii - Bastille by maria-artz Broken

Pompeii - Bastille by toastyhat and oskarna

Above the Clouds of Pompeii - Bear’s Den by groveofsketches

Let it Be - Beatles by toastyhat

The Fool on the Hill - The Beatles by robotoucan

All the Pretty Little Horses - Becky Jean Williams by purplecalamity

Pieces of Sky - Beth Orton by awildcale

Sweet Dreams - Beyoncé by dacadaca

River Below - Billy Talent by kamdensl

Rusted from the Rain - Billy Talent by crispychocolate

Just a Game - Birdy by redwordsoncavewalls

Kill the Lights - The Birthday Massacre by xamag-homestuck

Red Stars - The Birthday Massacre by lord-caliborn and tricotee

These Days - The Black Keys by digitallyimpaired

In the End - Black Veil Brides by rinasart

Let it Be - Blackmill (feat. Veela) by awildcale

Bad Sun - The Bravery by crashtest-therapist

Dear Agony - Breaking Benjamin by yukishii-chan

Diary of Jane - Breaking Benjamin by nevernoahh

Give Me a Sign - Breaking Benjamin by perceptur

I Will Not Bow - Breaking Benjamin by themockingcrows

First Day of My Life - Bright Eyes by usatoria

Can you feel my heart? - Bring me the horizon by domingoos and Yumegurren

Seeds - Brooke Fraser by anno-bannano Broken

Kodaline - Brother by zzpopzz

When I Was Your Man - Bruno Mars by babynarwalshineyeyes

P.O.W. - Bullet for My Valentine by anafigreen

C:

Angel with a Shotgun - The Cab by dawngyocry

How Are You - Cage the Elephant by facetiousfanatic Part 1

How Are You - Cage the Elephant by facetiousfanatic Part 2

How Are You - Cage the Elephant by facetiousfanatic Part 3

The loneliest Girl - Carol and Tuesday by cassandraooc

Morning Has Broken - Cat Stevens by thlange

Star Spangled Banner - Chase Holfelder by chillybuns

Between the Bars - Chris Garneau by roselalondee

Dirty Night Clown - Chris Garneau by idontevenknow-anymore

Dirty Night Clown - Chris Garneau by immabananana

Enter the Circus - Christina Aguilera by askinsanegamzee Broken

A Thousand Years - Christina Perii by angstyelf

A Thousand Years - Christina Perii by mari-victal

Burning Gold - Christina Perri by raspberrylemonhead

Fall - Cider Sky by nevernoahh

Falling (Demo) - The Civil Wars by zomdi

Safe and Sound - The Civil Wars by karaokekarkat

Hum - Clara C by nymphicus

3 Foot Tall - Classifed by kyrah-art

Summer Day - Coconut Records by kathysbrotherssister

Fondu au Noir - Coeur de Pirate by derperistical

Fix You - Coldplay by absinthianlyunheroic

Paradise - Coldplay by Moonpaw

The Scientist - Coldplay by ikimaru

Up with the Birds - Coldplay by the-rag-tag-earl

Viva la Vida - Coldplay by raspberrylemonhead

Viva La Vida - Coldplay by rozeart

Yellow - Coldplay by mariedisgrace

Young Volcanos - Coldplay by kawo-shin

Princess of China - Coldplay (feat. Rihanna) by sora-la

Chin Up - Copeland by vriskamidfangserket

Accidentally in Love - Counting Crows by hopelesslyblithe Broken

Crywank are posers - Crywank by p-666t

D:

Thrice - Daedalus by foramen-magnum

Something About Us - Daft Punk by moxel

Something About Us - Daft Punk by yazzdonut

Emotion - Daft Punk (MissingNo remix) by doomzy

The Spine - Darren Korb (Transistor) by rose-ebottles Broken

Youth - Daughter by zelpixel

Raise Your Weapon - Deadmau5 by marintan

Go Get Your Gun - The Dear Hunter by mcsiggy

Whisper - The Dear Hunter by prospt and collaborators

I Will Follow You Into the Dark - Death Cab for Cutie by davsturdur

I Will Follow You into the Dark - Death Cab for Cutie by inusushi

I Will Follow You Into the Dark - Death Cab for Cutie by kawaiifarts

Bottom of the River - Delta Rae by wwhatevven

Perfect Insanity - Disturbed by vasheren

Just Be Friends (Instrumental) - Dixie Flatline by cheese3d Inspired by Litlte Red Riding Hood

Pity Dance - Dn Stith by jazzango

Venus Hum - Do You Want to Fight Me by shubbabang

Everything You Ever - Doctor Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog by thesassylorax

My Eyes - Doctor Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog by equiu5

Close Every Door - Donny Osmond by allegro-designs

Baby Mine - Dumbo by gayrupunzel

E:

I See Fire - Ed Sheeran by arachnerdsgri

I See Fire - Ed Sheeran by themockingcrows

Small Bump - Ed Sheeran by janecrockeyre

Cosmic Castaway - Electrasy by themockingcrows

Telephone Line - Electric Light Orchestra by daily-beta

You are my Sunshine - Elizabeth Mitchell by the-rag-tag-earl

Goodnight Sweet Ladies - Emilie Autumn by amporasexual

Asleep - Emily Browning (originally by The Smiths) by joker-ace

O Come O Come Emmanuel - Enya by pseudocon

One for the Money - Escape the Fate by ikimaru

Follow the Sun - Evermore by ladygrit

Fever Dreamless - fadeintocase by peregr1ne

F:

Centuries - Fall Out Boy by sixofclovers

Immortals - Fall Out Boy by etcterrayellowmoon

Immortals - Fall Out Boy by mari-victal

Immortals - Fall Out Boy by quiversarrow

My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark (Light Em Up) - Fall Out Boy by toastyhat

The Kids Aren’t All Right - Fall Out Boy by i-am-a-riceball

The Kids Aren’t All Right - Fall Out Boy by scarlettheknight

The Last of the Real Ones - Fall Out Boy by dopingues

The Phoenix - Fall Out Boy by orangelemonart

Caught Like a Fly - Falling in Reverse by viria

Tragic Magic - Falling in Reverse by elasticitymudflap

Heavy Storm - First Aid Kit by moxel

Wolf - First Aid Kit by spooneaterarts

100 years - Five for Fighting by orangelemonart

Superman - Five for Fighting by grimbarke

Hurt Feelings - Flight of the Conchords by koroke

Rise - Flobots by lyricstuckbeatdown

Blinding - Florence + the Machine by collaborative

Cosmic Love - Florence + the Machine by rosemaryserver

Cosmic Love - Florence + the Machine by starkthirdeye

Cosmic Love - Florence + the Machine by toastyhat

Dog Days Are Over - Florence + the Machine by greatbiglyricstuck

Dog Days are Over - Florence + the Machine by m0thboy

Girl With One Eye - Florence + the Machine by kingdomzombified

Kiss With a Fist - Florence + the Machine by miraculoustang

No Light, No Light - Florence + the Machine by dacadaca

No Light, No Light - Florence + the Machine by nappotuna

Only If for a Night - Florence + the Machine by glueball

Seven Devils - Florence + the Machine by fangirlinginleatherboots

Seven Devils - Florence + the Machine by themockingcrows

Shake it Out - Florence + the Machine by cod-tier

Tear out my Tongue - Florence + the Machine by wheresmyhamlet

What the Water Gave Me - Florence + the Machine by colonoscolypseart

With an Axe - Foxy Shazam by oldshiel

Something Stupid - Frank and Nancy Sinatra by toastyhat

Some Nights - Fun. by greatbiglyricstuck

G:

Mad World - Gary Jules by ahabsiconoclast

Mad World - Gary Jules by prospitheir and aze

Mad World - Gary Jules by synnesai

Where Everybody Knows Your Name - Gary Portnoy by calliotp

Child of Light - The Getaway Plan by dingohugs

It All Dies Anyway - The Gits by skittykitty55

Take Me Away - Globus by toastyhat and splickedylit

You’re the One That I Want - Grease by doodlebonez

Top of the World - Greek Fire by eggsand-santoast

Song of the Century - Green Day by babakinkin

Song of the Century - Green Day by delinked

Song of the century - Green Day by the-rogue-0f-light

Boats and Birds - Gregory and the Hawk by striderprovider

Hard Knocks - Griffinilla and Alex Cole by colouredteapot

H:

Colors - Hasley by innocuoussketches

Anything - Hedley by valeriannnn

The Unquiet Grave - Hellen McCrocry by madreamcanular

Coming Back Down - Hollywood Undead by flynnagan

Coming Back Down - Hollywood Undead by skittykitty55

Levitate - Hollywood Undead by anafigreen

SCAVA - Hollywood Undead by scarlettheknight

Temporal Shenanigans - Homestuck ost - Rachel Macwhirter by arachnerdsgrip:

Almost (Sweet Music) - Hozier by metaname

Take Me To Church - Hozier by sailerscrimshaw Broken

God Help the Outcasts - Hunchback of Notre Dame by velocitiestrumpet

The Court of Miracles - Hunchback of Notre Dame by moc-tod-ffuts-modnar

That’s Okay - The Hush Sound by porcupet

Where We Went Wrong - The Hush Sound by canni8al

Wine Red - The Hush Sound by zeborah

I:

Volatile Times - IAMX by xamag-homestuck

Bad Karma - Ida Maria by margarethours

Amsterdam - Imagine Dragons by paperseverywhere

Bleeding Out - Imagine Dragons by rapidopatter

Demons - Imagine Dragons by muraokami Broken

Demons - Imagine Dragons by rapidopatter

Fallen - Imagine Dragons by maria-artz Broken

I'm So Sorry - Imagine Dragons by abbiwhozit

I'm So Sorry - Imagine Dragons by catkindness Part 1

I'm So Sorry - Imagine Dragons by catkindness Part 2

Nothing Left to Say - Imagine Dragons by paperseverywhere

On Top of the World - Imagine Dragons by lickfoot

Radioactive - Imagine Dragons by falloutboyonboy

Radioactive - Imagine Dragons by rachelhungry

Thief - Imagine Dragons by mikimosh

Warriors - Imagine Dragons by turretsyndr0me

Hide and Seek - Imogen Heap by kingdomzelaybli

The Devil’s Carnival - In all My Dreams I Drown by artblogofminji

Don’t Stop - InnerPartySystem by spocktalia Broken

What We Will Never Know - InnerPartySystem by lets-lyricstuck

Cinders and Smoke - Iron & Wine by laughingandgrief

Walk the Moon - Iscariot by cissaisthisyou

The Weekend - Islands by daily-beta

J:

R.I.P. Everyone - J.J. Demon by trickstercarlos

Fallin’ - Jake Bugg by awildcale

I Won’t Give Up - Jason Mraz by impudentkid

I’ll Be Good - Jaymes Young by asexualls Broken

Sufferer’s Final Sermon - jbriner by sketchloft

Be Thou My Vision - jbriner (originally a hymn) by mrdespondency

O Death - Jen Titus by canni8al

Oh Death - Jen Titus by artweaver5

If the World Should End - Jennifer Damiano by atrueenglishman

The Hanging Tree - Jennifer Lawrence by sixofclovers

Highwayman - Johnny Cash by toastyhat

What A Wonderful World - Joseph William Morgan ft. Shadow Royale by jayspants

The Stars - Jukebox the Ghost by innocuoussketches

K:

Die Young - Ke$ha by gelasticat

[S] Ke$ha: Enter - Ke$ha (Die Young Remix by captaincrapster) by ket3

Because of You - Kelly Clarkson by timehost

Breakaway - Kelly Clarkson by karaokeoctoberkat

Britland City Theme - Kenashcorp by stormfather

Animals - Kids in Glass Houses by faun-songs

Dustland Fairytale - The Killers by spiritleaf

Mr. Brightside - The Killers by mlle-annette

Sam´s Town - The Killers by gei-may

Smile Like You Mean It - The Killers by toastyhat

I Will Never Forget - Kimya Dawson by moxel

All I Want - Kodaline by godtier8itch

#Homestuck #lyricstuck #song sets #masterlist #Song comics #song comic #homestucksongcomics

[vs-redemption]

From Cindy: This bad boy got away from me and ended up being 3,674 words. I’m really happy with it though and I hope you think so too. It was written for a writing collaboration on Discord ( @konoblog-simps )

Gray - Soulmate AU (Levi Ackerman x GN!Reader)

Read a similar soulmate AU for Levi here

You hated winter.

You supposed people found something magical about the view of fluffy white flakes catching the light as they drifted down from the sky and created a thick white blanket across the ground and trees. However, the fairy tale description was only true when observed from the other side of a window where the protection of four walls and a fireplace could block out the harsh reality.

“Don’t forget the shopping on your way back.” Your grandmother’s raspy voice cuts through the morning silence as you go through the tedious process of bundling up against the frigid weather you knew you’d be facing as soon as you stepped outside. The elderly woman was sitting in her favorite spot on the sofa, lap covered by one of the many blankets she’d made over the years. You grandfather shuffled into the room as if on cue with two piping hot mugs of tea. He hands one to his wife before settling happily into the place next to her.

“I never do.” Your words come out harsher than you’d intended, but your grandparents pay you no mind. They were either used to your attitude or too wrapped up in their own happily ever after. You finish off your ridiculously bulky outfit by shoving a knit cap over your head and then heading out into the cold.

You hated your job

You knew you should be grateful that you had the luxury of owning an apothecary. It was the type of establishment that would never want for business. There was also a certain pride in being able to provide people with medicines to relieve them of their aches and pains, allergies, and illnesses. The difficulty was in being surrounded by the memories of your parents and the perfect life they’d lived, as well as the constant reminder that you’d been robbed of the chance to experience that type of fantasy.

Trudging through the deep wet snow had made you a few minutes late, and there were already a few customers waiting outside the tiny shop you’d inherited by the time you arrived. You apologize politely as you unlock the door and let them inside, shedding the layers of your winter clothes as quickly as you can so that you can get to work. It was always a little busier in the winter months, but finding the right remedy for each person was something you’d gotten good at over time. Most customers came and went without much trouble, but assisting the regulars who’d known you since childhood was always a bit awkward. You did your best not to notice the pity and judgement on their faces as you prepared their orders with the same forced pleasantness as you did for everyone else.

You hated shopping

Having a job that earned enough wages to properly provide for yourself and your family was a blessing most people in your city could not enjoy. Your parents had always made sure to remind you of that fact whenever they came home with baskets full of fresh fruits and vegetables, cheese, bread, and sometimes even meat. As an adult, you still appreciated the fact that you did not have to know hunger, but it was always such a hassle to deal with the crowded market after getting off work.

When your parents had been alive, they had loved going out to run these types of errands together. It had always surprised you how they would choose to spend more time together even after living and working with each other every single day. They never seemed to get tired of each other, and you could remember vividly the way they’d smiled at each other with pure happiness and love in their gaze. It was hard to forget when you saw the same blissful look on every couple you happened to encounter as you went about your day. It made you feel so incredibly alone sometimes, but you did your best to bury those emotions deep down out of fear that they would consume you completely.

“How much is the bread today?” You ask the baker once you make it to the counter through the throngs of people. He tells you the price and begins to wrap up your order when you agree to it.

“You’re lucky,” he tells you conversationally. “This is the last loaf of the day.”

“Tch!” A frustrated sound comes from behind you and you turn around instinctively to make sure nothing was wrong. Standing next to you was a grouchy looking man with silky black hair, styled in an undercut. The long, soft looking strands on the top of his head came down to frame his face, drawing attention to the most important feature; his eyes. You notice right away they are both the identical shade of gray, which told you a lot about him already.

“Were you waiting in line?” You ask curiously even though meeting his sharp gaze directly was a bit intimidating. He regards you critically for a moment before sighing and looking away, probably forming his own judgments based on the incorrect story told by your own eyes.

“It’s fine,” his tone of voice is flat and a little dismissive. “I should’ve gotten here earlier.” He turns to walk away but something makes you call out to stop him.

“Wait,” you give him the friendliest smile you can muster before looking to the baker. “Please, wrap this up for him instead. I insist.” The baker shrugs, not really bothered by the change as long as he got his payment. The scowl on the man’s face gave way to surprise, and you thought the softer look suited him much better. You could see that he was preparing to reject your kindness, so you mutter a quick goodbye before turning away and blending in with the crowd.

You hated your eyes

In the world you lived in, everything revolved around a person’s eyes. They were more than just a mere window into the soul, they were also a glimpse into the future. As a child, you could recall the excitement of your friends as they studied the mismatched colors of each other’s irises, speculating wildly about which shade truly belonged to them and which was borrowed from a stranger that they were destined to meet sometime in the future. Their enthusiasm had been contagious in the beginning, and you’d enjoyed listening to people discuss their predictions about the background, appearance, and personality of their future partner.

“Did you get everything on the list?” Your grandfather asks as he takes the basket of food from you once you finally return home. The walk back from the market had been miserable. Your feet were cold and wet from sloshing through the snow, but the rest of you was warm and sweaty from the exertion of hauling the purchases all the way back while wearing so many thick layers.

“They were out of bread,” You inform him while shrugging out of your coat. A look of displeasure passed over his face but vanished just as quickly when your grandmother called to him from the kitchen. You were relieved that she was volunteering to make dinner this time, because the exhaustion from your day was starting to catch up with you.

You head into the bathroom, ready to warm up with a hot shower and put on a fresh pair of clothes while the meal was prepared. As you wait for the water from the tap to heat up, you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. Usually you avoided looking at your face for too long, but every now and then you decided to stare back at yourself for a moment. You frown as you meet the gaze of the two identical eyes that you’d be born with. They looked mockingly back at you from the glass, their dull gray hue like a running joke that you’d never found remotely funny.

Washing away the grime of the day helped clear your head of negative thoughts, and soon your mind drifted back to the man you’d helped at the market. The memory of his eyes reminded you that you had made the right decision. He was the one who had someone important waiting for him back at home, possibly even children that needed to be fed and taken care of. You and your grandparents would be just fine as you always had, even if there was a spark of jealousy in you that the man got to have the type of wholesome future that you could never enjoy.

You hated soulmates

The idea of having the comfort of knowing there was someone out there born specifically to fill your life with joy, support, and love was an overwhelming one. It was hard for you to really imagine what it must be like for people to be filled with that nervous anticipation every time they got the opportunity to meet someone new. You’d had secondhand experiences as you watched friends and acquaintances around you find their destinies in one another, but while those meetings spelled out the beginning of something wonderful for them, it only served to make you feel the bleakness of your situation more profoundly.

It was extremely rare for someone to be born without a soulmate, and although your parents tried to have a positive outlook, you had still felt the stigma associated with your condition every single day of your life. It had been impossible to escape the stares and gasps of astonishment from both adults and children alike during you school-age years. Most of them had never seen a child your age with two of the same colored eyes, so it was inevitable that you’d garnered quite a bit of unwanted attention. The people you met were merely curious at first, but as you got older the intrigue turned to pity.

As hard as it was to deal with the people around you who knew the truth, meeting strangers was almost worse. Those who still walked around with duel colored eyes held little interest in someone who had seemingly already found their partner, and everyone else was too preoccupied with their own established lives to pay attention to you at all. In the world you lived in, everything revolved around a person’s eyes. Unfortunately, your eyes had landed you into one of the loneliest roles imaginable.

You hated your luck

It should not have surprised you as much as it did when the man from the market walked into your apothecary a few days later, but considering the fact he’d been popping up in your thoughts sporadically ever since the first meeting, it certainly caught you off guard to see his face again. By the way his familiar gray eyes widened upon seeing you standing behind counter, you guessed he hadn’t been expecting to see you again either.

“Hello again,” you smile awkwardly to try and clear the air. You weren’t sure if it would be weird to mention the bread incident or not.

“Hello,” the man nods, his facial features relaxing into a neutral expression. You were glad he didn’t seem to be as agitated as he’d been in the market. “I’m looking for something that might help my mother. She’s recently fallen ill and nothing I do seems to be helping.”

“What are her symptoms?” The question falls naturally from your lips. As the man describes his mother’s condition, you find yourself taking in his appearance in more detail. His black hair looked as soft as you remembered, but now you were noticing other things like the shape of his nose and sharp angle of his jawline. The clothes he wore were on the nicer side, and it made you wonder what he did for a living. His stature was a bit on the shorter side, and although his build was lean, you got the impression that he was healthy and strong.

“Well, it seems like she may have caught a flu,” you explain once the man finishes speaking. You turn to grab a few items from the shelf behind you and place them on the counter. “These should work to control the symptoms and reduce her fever until her body is able to fight off the infection.”

“Thank you,” he sounds genuine as he pulls out some money to pay for the medicine. You accept the payment, taking note of his long, elegant hands and fingers.

“Not at all,” you assure him with an easy smile. “I hope your mother recovers quickly.”

The man nods in gratitude while scooping up the goods he’d purchased in his hands. He seemed to hesitate for a moment before looking back up to catch your gray eyes with his own.

“My name’s Levi, by the way.” The confidence in his voice did not match the anxious set of his features. “We didn’t get to have a proper introduction the other day.”

“O-oh,” there was no way to conceal the shock you felt in that moment. It was out of the ordinary for anyone to give you their name, especially a man who had obviously had his encounter with fate already. You manage to stutter out your own name, wondering if you were having some sort of intensely realistic dream as you watch the man’s lips twitch into the smallest, briefest of smiles.

“A pleasure to meet you,” he repeats your name to himself thoughtfully. “Have a nice day.” With all his business with you completed, he nods his head and exits your shop, leaving you to try and tame the wild racing of your thoughts and heart.

You hated false hope

It was embarrassing how often you had to remind yourself over the next few days that a person simply introducing themselves to you should not be taken as anything more than polite kindness. You had seemingly lost all control of your mind and feelings though, since scarcely a moment went by now without thoughts of Levi sending butterflies fluttering around in your stomach. It didn’t seem fair that you knew so little about him, but you understood that you’d have to be content with the memory of his ghost of a smile and the echo of the way your name had sounded as it escaped his lips. Part of you hoped you’d never see the man again so that you could get over your delusions as quickly and easily as possible, but another part of you longed to bump into him again.

“What are you doing in here?” Your grandmother walked into the bathroom to find you leaning over the sink, eyes wide open and focused so intensely on your reflection in the mirror that you hadn’t even heard her approach.

“Huh?” you whirl around to face her, finally blinking once you realized how tired your eyes were from the thorough examination you’d just given them. “What did it feel like after you met Grandpa?”

Your stomach sank immediately at the pitying look that grew on the old woman’s face. She reaches out to rub your arm sympathetically with a sad smile. “I’m so sorry sweetie,” is all she tells you before changing the subject completely. “Excuse me now, I need to use the restroom.”

“Right, sorry.” You offer a dry laugh as you move out of her way, reality rushing back like a harsh slap to the face. You’d known all along that you’d never really have a soulmate, but it was hard not to have grasped on to the small shred of a possibility. It hadn’t slipped your attention that Levi also had gray eyes, but plenty of people had the same or similar shade. Besides, the likeliness of soulmates having the same exact eye color was even rarer than someone being born without a soulmate at all. You vowed to keep these cold hard truths at the forefront of your mind from now on, and resigned yourself completely to the fate you’d been dealt.

You loved Levi

It had been a whole week since you’d given up the last loaf of bread that had sent your life into a strange whirlwind of new, unexplored emotions. The days between then and the present had been interesting indeed, but now you were determined to go back to life as normal. The weather wasn’t so terrible today, but you still bundled up to prepare yourself for the cold morning walk to the Apothecary. You arrived at the shop with plenty of time to remove the layers of winter clothes and do a quick inventory of items you’d soon need to restock.

It was around lunchtime when you really started to relax back into your routine. The steady flow of customers had helped to keep your mind occupied, and once things slowed down around midday, you picked up a rag and began to wipe down the counters and windows absentmindedly. The sound of the bell above the door alerted you to someone’s arrival and you quickly tossed down the rag and turned to greet them. Once again, you find yourself startled to be standing in the presence of the man from the market.

“Levi,” you mutter his name before shaking out of your daze. “Excuse me,” you look down and apologize in embarrassment. “Um, can I help you with something? Is your mother feeling better?”

“She’s much better, yes. Thank you.” Levi clears his throat awkwardly and you can’t help but think his posture is stiffer than you remember. You wonder again what he did for a living because he seemed to be a bit overdressed for a simple trip to the apothecary. He looked incredibly handsome in any case, and it was doing nothing to help quiet your wandering imagination.

“I’m glad to hear that,” you weren’t sure what else to say. You walk over to the small faucet behind the counter to wash your hands since you’d just been cleaning. The silence between you both grew more and more uncomfortable until Levi’s face suddenly contorts with frustration. You open your mouth to apologize for whatever you’d done but he cuts you off by coming forward suddenly and placing both hands on the counter.

“Your eyes,” he forces out the words before averting his own gaze. Any hope of keeping yourself grounded in reality seemed to go up in smoke as your heart rate kicked into overdrive.

“Yes?” you say breathlessly and the fact that you weren’t kicking him out for being incredibly inappropriate was enough to spur him on with whatever point he was trying to get to.

“How long?” he swallows thickly and takes a deep breath, “How long since they’ve changed?”

“They’ve always been this way,” it should’ve been harder to admit, but the way Levi was acting was distracting you from the shame you’d normally be feeling. A soft sound, like an intrigued sigh, escapes his lips and he covers his mouth with those beautiful long fingers you’d been trying not to think about. All you can do is stare at him as he comes to terms with the information you’d just revealed. You wondered why he’d even want to know and what he would do now that the truth was out in the open. Finally, after an unbearable stretch of time, Levi lowers his hand back onto the counter, revealing a faint but amused looking smile.

“Well,” his confidence began to return. “They look much better on you than they do on me.”

“What?” Every cell in your body seemed to be buzzing with anticipation. You wanted to believe that this was all leading up to something good, but a nagging fear in the back of your mind warned you against giving in to the false hope that you’d vowed to ignore.

“I was born with these eyes as well,” Levi confesses calmly while gesturing to his face. “Both of them.”

It was your turn to cover your mouth, wondering desperately if it was all right yet to dare to dream that there was meaning behind what was happening after all.

“I have no idea if this is all a coincidence or not,” Levi shrugs as his mouth pulls into a frown. “To be honest, I gave up on the idea of soulmates a long time ago, but I cannot ignore the fact that you’ve consumed my thoughts from the moment I saw you in the market.”

Tears unwittingly begin to blur your vision as all the tension inside you finally reaches a tipping point.

“I…” You aren’t sure whether to laugh or cry. Levi’s hand appears in front of your face, offering a handkerchief. You accept it gratefully and wipe the wetness from your eyes and cheeks. “I didn’t think it was possible, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you either.”

Levi folds his arms over his chest as if contemplating the matter seriously, but the pause only lasts a few seconds this time. Before you have time to worry about what he’ll say, he’s offering you his hand.

“Would you like to be my soulmate then?” he asks, a hint of teasing in his voice despite the nervous energy surrounding you both. You don’t hesitate to place your hand into his. You weren’t sure if your matching eyes was a sign that you were meant to be together, but it wouldn’t be fair to either of you to throw away the shot of having the kind of life you’d watched other people enjoy your entire lives. If you were able to bring each other happiness, you could care less if it was what fate had planned.

“Yes,” Your voice shook with the overwhelming emotions coursing through you, “I think I’d like that.”

“As would I,” Levi replies as a real smile takes over his face at last. The hope you see in the depths of his beautiful gray eyes makes you appreciate the matching color of your own for the very first time, and the idea of a happy future finally seems within your grasp.

#Levi Ackerman x Reader #snk x reader #aot x reader #Levi Ackerman #snk #aot #soulmate au #Cindy's Writing

[herstarburststories]

Home in a Motel Pool

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: Dean and you have some fun in the motel's pool.

A/N: This one took a little longer than I thought, but here it's! Wet Dean in motel pool for us. So canon compliant of me, I know I know. This piece is my submission for @deanwanddamons 's 1st Blogiversary and 2K follower celebration with the prompt in bold. Congrats again, honey! And it's also my part for @anaelsbrunette 's YAS’S POC READER CHALLENGE with the song Home by Depeche Mode. Thanks for the extra time and the marvelous challenge!

Warnings: sex in the pool, p in v, dirty talk

Hunting was brutal. Even when the hunters won, it was a victory with no triumph-- there would be someone dead, always a corpse and loved one weeping as a reminder that you and the Winchesters couldn’t save everyone. You’d come around the town, tell the folks what they wanted to hear to get some information, kill the thing, and luckily save a person or two. It was a page from the emptiest stage, a show for a crowd of three: you, Sam, and Dean. Their own critics and praisers, doctors and patients, sinners and saints.

And if your hands were melted and molded into killing machines, you better pray for your heart to be made of anything but gold. That job didn't leave space or time for tenderness. In order to hunt the prey, you must become ferocious. Attack anything on sight, sing to the loneliest sound that’s the gunshot in the dark, pretend that you’ll make amends only to end up befriending the glorious end of the line that often came too soon.

Thing is, it wasn’t just about that. It would be easier if it was all about perfect soldiers and ultimate killers. A black and white world stained with crimson red would be the ideal, but there were always more colors.

Certainly, it wasn’t the most illustrious job one could get. If anything, it was unfair and underpaid and the seed of violence. Every hunter happened to do things they never could speak about, and all the blood got so normalized to the point red is just the color that pointed you were doing it right. like a good grade or a father’s head pat. Where was the seat on the table for any gentless to sit down in the chaos? In the thankful hugs from the mothers of the rescued children, in the pranks the boys came up with against each other for no other reason but childish nostalgia, in the nights where the three of you stopped and sat on Baby’s hood to watch the stars in silence, in the way Dean’s tough hands touched your cheek so lovingly, in the smell of the Impala’s wheels burning against the streets. Summarizing, when saving people wasn’t reasoning enough, kindness appeared glistening in the middle of the pandemonium, as a paragon of something good in cruelty.

Just like this moment.

‘’My body aches in places I didn’t even know that could hurt.’’ You groaned as you got out of the classic black car, hand on the back of your neck to apply some pressure. Even being thrown against a wall by some demon hurt less than sleeping in the backseat-- sweet mundane problems.

Sam scoffed before adding insult to injury, ‘’At least you were sleeping and didn’t have to hear the same cassette three times.’’

‘’Quit whining, you two. I was the one driving through two states.’’ Dean said in a huff, swirling the keys as the three of you walked towards Bonita Motel’s entrance. He placed an arm around your waist, his own way of showing affection in quietude. Your hand slipped inside his leather jacket’s pocket. ‘’Sides’, Baby’s backseat is comfortable and Zeppelin is awesome.’’

The youngest Winchester refrained his response to an eye roll and a mumble among the lines not when played three times in a row. You, though, turned your head to the side and offered your stubborn boyfriend a cynical smile.

‘’I prefer a bed.’’

He aimed at you with his signature lopsided grin, the one he knew that you loved, while you passed through the main door of the establishment. ‘’That’s not what you said last week.’’

‘’Guys, limits.’’ Sam pleaded, shaking his head at Dean’s comment before turning around. He made a chatter that quickly got old with the woman behind the counter, gaining two keys. The long haired hunter tossed one at his brother, who quickly grabbed it with his free hand.

‘’This is a good motel…’’ You commented as the three walked upstairs, the gleaming blue sight caughting your brown eyes. Your whole body shone as if it was really a beach and not only a cheap motel’s pool. Dean and Sam had never gone to the beach, but you grew up with salt aired weekends, a collection of swimsuits, and a loud family on the sand. You missed the sensation of being held by the ocean so dearly. It wouldn’t be the same, nothing was after you jumped in Dean’s Impala in New York; hustling for some other life, a better one like your parents when they came to the United States. Yet, a pool could be diverting and cozy. Pulling away from your man’s hold, you approached the small chlorine miracle. 

‘’There’s a pool!’’ You pointed out, as excited as a kid in a carnival. ‘’We should take a swim.’’

‘’You guys go. I have some research to do.’’ Sam nodded at the pool with his head, denying the request with a sleight of hand as he opened the lock of the room 209. ‘’Have fun, kids.’’

The green eyed man clicked his tongue when his brother disappeared with the craike of a door. He wasn’t exactly against the idea of jumping in the pool - apart from the germes, but his paranoia wouldn’t mind that much, not after trying endless motel’s bathtubs. The drive here had just been too long. Besides, if that crap motel had a well-cleaned pool, it probably had vibrating beds. He could use a massage. ‘’I think I’ll get crash in bed.’’

You arched an eyebrow. ‘’Didn’t you say that Baby’s backseat was comfortable to sleep?’’

‘’How taller than you I am, sweetheart?’’ He smirked as you walked back to him like you always did, your own north star in shape of a magnetic force of a man,

‘’Shush.’’ You slapped his chest playfully, wrapping your arms around Dean’s neck. ‘’Come on. Most motels we go to barely have a door, much less a pool. I miss going swimming. It’s a sunny day…’’ The childish joy in your tone metamorphosed into a newfound malice. ‘’You’ll get to see me in a bikini.’’

The Winchester wiggled his messy brows at your statement, suddenly reinvigorated as he placed his arms around your waist to bring you closer. Forget the body ache and all that, that was a way better reason to be sore in the bones later. ‘’You made some good points.’’

‘’I always do.’’ You kept the adamant tone, even when you could feel his breath on your cheek, those green eyes so livid when looking at you. God, you had to put a period here before things escalated and you two ended up getting to right in the middle of the hall. You attempt to make a joke: ‘’Darling it’s better, down where it’s wetter.’’

He knew it was a prompt from The Little Mermaid-- you two had watched two days ago in Tupelo, in a vintage television after killing a Ghoul, while Sam got some junk food. Yet, the kind of smile that brought to his face held anything but purity. A simple conversation became double-edged with Dean Winchester. You two often ended up breathless, either from fighting or from doing more entertaining dances. You should’ve seen that one coming.

‘’I know another wet spot.’’ He’d say, unholy significance trapped in each word as his right hand started to motion over your skin, guiding his greedy finger under your skirt. Your mouth was set in a grim line, a surprisingly determinate attempt to hold back a moan. You and Dean could do it in the pool, unite the good infant memories with the tent-like emotions of adulthood to make a grand deal.

‘’You’ll get all of me wet.’’ You kissed the corner of his lips, smoothly pulling away with a wink. So much self control. ‘’Hurry up, cowboy.’’

You grabbed your bag and rushed to room 208 to change your clothes, leaving an astonished, mildly turned on Winchester behind. Getting in the bathroom, which didn't stink for once, you swiftly changed into the bikini. A jade green one, directly from Brazil’s brand Cia Maritma. If you squint your eyelids hard enough, you could still put a name to each face that was with you when you wore it for the first time in the calmer days. All the long gone friends and the daily sunbath in your caramel skin.

Decided to leave the past well enough alone, you just smiled in melancholy and turned around, facing your reflex in the mirror. You looked hot. Dean surely would agree about that, especially with the way the top brought up your breast.

Arriving in the room to your boyfriend ready for the swim, you couldn’t help checking him out. You were attracted to the way the righteous man’s body was built since the first glance, addicted since the first touch. His shoulder, the freckles on his nose, and the way he wasn’t all defined, yet had the muscles right in the certain spots. You took off your hairpin, hair falling on your shoulder into a brown sea, like the waves crashing against the ocean rocks. The smell of your sweat and orange monopolizing the edges of everywhere, mainly Dean’s senses. He relished on how soft your skin was compared to his, how your accent tingled his insides, and the way you swing your hips while walking. Your boobs almost jumping at his face because of the tiny bikini only aroused him more.

The place had to get some credit. For a dive motel, it was more than they’d picture. Manageable bathrooms and safe locks, the pool glimmering blue with a small tree by the right side. It was gorgeous.

A dazzling breeze whispered through your bodies, causing you to shiver slightly and Dean to get sweet smelling sheets clinging to his knees and feet. Fucking tree. You could taste the friction swallowing the atmosphere, a report of what was near.

Before you could say anything, Dean grumbled as he pokes a leaf away. ‘’It’s gonna rain.’’

‘’It will.’’ You agreed, holding his hand to pull him closer, well-aware that your body would scare away any linger of adorable grumpiness. ‘’But who cares about raining when you’re in a pool?’’

It's the kind of question that doesn't need an answer, it briefly exists to make Dean distracted in wonder just now, a pause between seconds as you jump in the pool first. The water splashing around with a brutal sound. Your body seems to recall an old memory, how you made a lark of anything with your siblings in the sea,  how you used to feel like the beaches were a peculiar way of God to show the living how his touch would feel like. Every fiber of your body missed this.

Dean went in too, emerging to the marvelous sound of your laugh. He glanced at you, now less of a hunter and more of a man. The drops on your face could easily be confused with tears, yet the way you grinned and threw water at him couldn’t leave space for any other world but happiness. The Winchester often noticed your longing for cultural things that you no longer had in the palm of your hand. It was stupid, he even felt somehow resposible for taking you away of everything you ever knew only to coaxe you through the road not taken— full of bumps and blood and undecked halls. Then you’d smile, you’d wrap your arms around him like you were doing in that exact moment, and he would see that the drops all over your face are flickering with your chortle.

What other choice would Dean have, what other option could he ever make himself pick, if not to place his hands on your hips? So it goes. He put his rough hand on your, each tender touch seeming to make the bruises there clear up.

The hunter was leaning in to kiss you as a wave of water met his face.

‘’Ops!’’

He narrowed his eyes, spilling out the water. ‘’You are gonna pay for this.’’

‘’I’d like to see you try, Kansas boy.’’

Yeah, you once were raised in the water, such an important part of your identity which you didn't wish to lose, yet slowly slipped beyond your reaches. But you had Dean, you had adventure, and you had the motel’s shitty pool. If you could find contentment in that, you should know that who you were wasn’t lost. You were still the five years old who played in the plastic pool, the seventeen girl who grabbed your cellphone’s lantern and went looking for what was making a noise at 3am, the twenty years old who jumped in a car with two hunters and a craving for finding her true home. You were all of them at once. 

Heaven sent the only true friend you could call yours and you’re under his lips. Dean’s crashing his mouth with yours, hungry like an animal after your playful war. You two are soaked, and so is your pussy. He pressed your against the border of the pool, your back to the wall of it. The water rushes in and you couldn’t care less. When did a bikini start to look like too much clothing?

Breaking the kiss, the Winchester glanced at you. The green of all the wild gardens localized in his orbs, dappled with stars and desire. Waiting for his touches, enjoying when he took his time with you was always worthwhile. Today, though, you needed him fast and dirty and raw.

There was nothing you'd rather than spread your legs, so you did it. Dean’s smart fingers quickly ripping your panties and brushing against your heat. He let out an annoyed huff, missing the satisfaction of your wetness around his digitals, how he knew you were a mess for him and him only. The pool’s water didn’t let it much evident, he’d have to fuck you even harder, make sure you were still needy for his cock.

You whined, clinging to his touch with a swing of hips. His hand covering your pussy as Dean applied some pressure, savoring the way your body winced and your eyes shut close, a beautiful moan leaving your lips. He couldn’t wait to eat you out later after he made you come in this stupid pool. Hedonism made his blood thicker-- like he was a calm sea before you, and now his waters were violent and hungry for destruction. 

He pulled his hand away. ‘’Dean…’’

‘’Don’t worry, sweetheart.’’ His throbbing cock entered you, voice even deeper as he spoke. ‘’Gonna give you what you want.’’

You placed your legs around his waist and he held your thighs underwater, the sky spilling out its own water above. It didn’t stop two. Your hand on his shoulders, nails sinking in seemed to be a combustible for Dean to go harder inside of your. His hips attacking yours as his mouth kissed your neck with bites.

‘’Dean, please.’’ You pleaded, warm walls squeezing his long dick. ‘’More.’’

‘’All my cock is for you, honey. You get all of it, fucking you, scratching you open.’’ The eldest Winchester said, his voice so low and sensual. You could come only from his talking. ‘’That’s what you want, huh? You want me to fuck that pretty cunt, mark you up inside this shitty pool.’’ His digital reached your clint and you growled. Dean kept his dick inside you, unable to pull away from the heavenly sensation of being inside you. ‘’Wanna know something? I can’t wait to come inside that tight pussy right here.’’

He increased the rhythm, pounding you even faster and rougher as you tried to keep up, the lack of synchrony causing his cock to reach and pull inimaginable pleasures inside you, all turning more brutal and necessary. The pool had its own waves, your and Dean’s movements causing a chaos ocean chaos in it.

The heat and the sickliest, you were drowning in pleasure with each thrust to a desperate beat that his heart echoed. All your pretty noises tangled with his breathless howls. The rain’s drops becoming one water with the pool as you and him became one with your intertwined bodies, only to grow apart again and come back in need for more.

Your and your lover’s figures distorted on the reflex of the pool water, washing away any piece left of purity as you moved in a hurry when you finally reached your orgasm. Your cunt tightening around his hardness was too much to bear, making Dean come after you.

He rested his forehead against yours, breathless faces with closed eyelids darting together. The heat calmed down by the water. Dean dared to look at you, but not to pull away. His cock remained inside your tight cunt and he caressed your cheek gently. That woman pounded from within and is pinning him down to earth, like you are his own gravity, the glimpse of relief, the lover’s photographe that gives the soldier’s battle a meaning.

‘’There’s a saying in my country.’’ You said suddenly, opening your brown eyes as he lifted his head to greet yours with his forest ones.

Dean captured your small nose, your desirable lips, your big eyes, your gorgeous tan skin, the signals he had map of on his lips. His thumb still stroked your face as his cock took its time to weaken inside your pussy. ‘’Yeah? What’s it?’’

‘’Quem está na chuva é pra se molhar.’’ He arched his eyebrows, a silent request for an english version. The Winchester knew around ten words in your mothertongue. Half pet names, half cussing. You pecked his plump lips. ‘’There's no literal translation, some things just lose their core if you try to put them to another language. It would be like if you are in the rain you want to get wet. It would be another way to say if you can’t take the heat, get out of the kitchen.’’

‘’I gotta say, you look pretty hot when you say those things.’’ You smirked. You rolled your eyes playfully, fingernails tenderly fondling the back of Dean’s neck under his haircut. ‘’Do you miss it?’’

‘’My country?’’

‘’Yeah. Not just your country but your language, your friends, your life there.’’ He shrugged, secretly scared of the answer. ‘’It’s not like we go to the same places you used to go to. I see how many bikinis you carry around.’’

Which was the main reason he booked that motel. You didn’t need to know that. The childish joy you had with the surprise was enough for his credit.

‘’No. Well, I still speak my language when I’m mad at you.’’ Dean chuckled. Whenever you two got in a heated argument, your inner latina would come out and jump at him in both languages at once. It was supposed to be serious, but mostly got him all hot and bothered. Your accent was just too sexy, especially when you were angry. ‘’But no, not really. I miss situations and people, but not how it was. It was a good life, but it wasn’t the one I was supposed to have.’’ You pulled him to you by his neck. ‘’I thank you, you know? For bringing me here. For showing me home, Even for the tears and the fear. I finally I’ve found where I belong.’’

Tranquility engulfed the atmosphere momentarily as comfortable as a silent sleeper, the rain no longer coming, giving stage to a sunny sky. You and Dean, twisted together like that was all serenity you could relish on. You both quiet in the afterglow, his cock no longer hard but neither wanted to pull away. He laid his head on your shoulder, nuzzling into your neck. He certainly would bring you to a beach as soon as he could, maybe pop the pretty question on his knees there. For now, thought, he could enjoy thar simple moment.

‘’After my house was burned to the ground, I didn’t think I’d have another one. I was always rolling around the country, never really stayed in a place for too long. I didn’t want to call some random walls my home and have it destroyed in my face again.’’ Dean said, his thumbs caressing your thighs underwater. Since his first breath near you, he knew he was a goner. Even better, he knew he wasn’t a goner, a nomad, or a lonely wolf anymore. Dean Winchester once swore he would never come back home after what happened in there, and then you appeared. The hot latina who kept up with his stupidity and didn’t think twice before calling him out on his bullshit, and was always there for him and actually loved him-- not besides the job, but with all the things being a hunter included, all the ugly acts he had to go through. You believed he was good and worthy. His house burned, but you gave him a home. For the first time in so long, Dean felt warm and happy and loved. ‘’But you gave me a home. Without the apple pie life and all that. You, me, and Sammy-- fighting the good fight, just the three of us. This is my home.’’

To be a hunter was to be gauge of the deadliest trap ever laid, always carrying the heaviest cross ever made like a soldier’s duty that wouldn’t end with a couple years of trocious war. This treacherous slope was forevermore. A hunter life, all the fraunds and the paid phone calls and the running away with laughs empty of joy, the song from the wrong side of town. But fuck, all the saving and the excitment and the hustled love made a dance for the melody and suddenly it was worth it. All the tender parts, the new restaurants every week, the jokes in the car, the hidden chortles in the dark places. Sam. Dean. Dean and all this am out of love and loyalty he gave to you.

Everything was worth it to be in his arms.

He brought you back home.

Comment & reblog. Feedback is magic! Check my masterlist ♡ Tags in reblog!

#dean winchester x reader #YASPOCREADERCHALLENGE #deanwanddamons2Kcelebration #dean winchester #dean x you #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader smut #supernatural #spn #dean winchester imagine #supernatural imagines #spn reader insert #dean winchester headcanon #dean winchester imagines #dean winchester x you

[atlantic-ambience]

you’re going to get tired at 20

you’re going to want to give up 

all the nights staying awake to write a damn paper about Freud or Socrates or Whatever His Damn Name Is it doens’t really matter

doing all this to chase nights where you’ll create memories that will last forever but really you can’t even remember them when you wake up

20 is yelling at your roommates to clean their dishes and also wishing you had the funds to eat meals like them

its being disappointed that you aren’t making friends as fast as freshman year but also cherishing the good ones you’ve found that haven’t left yet

reaching an all time high and the next day finding yourself at the loneliest place called rock bottom

but what they dont tell you about 20 is that realizing rock bottom can be a beautiful place too

because just when you are about give in to the pain of it all a beam of light shines into the abyss signaling that you won’t be there forever

you then become thankful that you’ve made the scary journey to the depths of your all time low

because the only place you can go from there is up and the contrast feels damn good

20 is finding the boy that finally treats you right after falling in love twice before and then realizing you aren’t ready for his love

why? why is he everything i want and need on paper but our compatibility is the kind of ink that is just meant to stay on paper and never leave that plane

its not about learning what love is and isnt meant for you but its realizing you havent gotten to know yourself enough to know whats best for you

20 is about romanticizing about building a house in the North East with that boy you let go of to make you more excited about the future

its about creating a happy distraction that will prevent you from returning to rock bottom

if only we could paint our bedroom Sage Green and cook lemon pasta in the kitchen together

20 is about realizing your role models aren’t as perfect as you want them to be

doing everything in your power to protect your inner child

its about compartmentalizing the trauma to pretend like everything is the same

my childhood was stable and my current life is too

then suddenly learning this lie was more damaging to my inner child more than anything and you just need to face the music 

20 is about reminding yourself of the people in your past life that will always be there

and getting the horrible feeling that they are not who they used to be and you are left with nothing but your lonely self

but then remembering that your mind can lie to you and this is the worst betrayal you can experience

20 is learning to be patient

flipping that slow Grandma off driving in front of you wont get you there any faster

texting the wrong people impulsively because your emotional wont make your emotions any better the next day

but most importantly its about learning how to be patient with yourself

you dont need to rush to answer your phone, they can wait a few more minutes

you dont need to rush your healing process, life is right in front of you

20 is understanding empathy towards people around you

getting angry at your friend for not being there during your time of grief does not mean she doesn’t care

it means shes probably grieving in her own way too and she deserves more communication

be there for her the way you’d want other to be there for you too

she may need a rope to pull her up from rock bottom

20 is about academic and professional success

finally achieving straight As but forgetting you need to work even harder next time to do it again

its about landing an interview at your dream job and making it to the last round to get rejected

later accepting your second or third or fourth or maybe a choice that was never on your radar

but knowing it was a stepping stone to your next dream and woohoo we can put it on my resume

20 is about reconnecting with family after growing a part from them

having a moment of disbelief when your mom yells at your dad for absolutely nothing but maybe breathing at the wrong moment or getting whole milk instead of soy

and realizing that the bad traits your mom possess are the same ones that pushed away the boy you loved

its about finally understanding why she behaves the way she does

but more importantly not pushing negative generational habits onto those you care about because it is up to ourselves to break that pattern

20 is about not knowing when to get off social media

its about getting a suspicion that its one of the causes for your anxiety and insecurities

stalking your ex boyfriends one time hook up from freshman year wont make you feel any better

if she’s prettier than you’ll compare yourself and if she’s not then you’ll wonder why you’re with a guy that would go for a girl like her 

either way you’ll end up questioning your own self worth

slowly swiping to the right on a Snapchat message that says “Hey what’s up?” and being disappointed when its not something more interesting 

checking Snap Maps every three minutes won’t make them reply faster

20 is about the biological makeup of our bodies

checking your phone first thing in the morning will just create an unrealistic goal for your brain to reach that same rush of seratonin it feels

reading a book and even having a good conversation with a friend isn’t enough to reach that level you felt earlier that day

its about finding a meditation or exercise that will get your body to a natural high

20 is about mourning yourself that you arent 19 or 18 or 17 anymore

aging is scary but not knowing yourself is even scarier

its about realizing that getting older isnt bad but its a chance to be better than yesterday

i turned 21 last week

21 is about loving myself for who i was when i was 20 and celebrating who i will be today and who i will become tomorrow 

n.m.b.

#aging #coming of age #growth #poetry #college #love #loss #grief #lessons #breakup #heartbreak

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 04 (second part)

(Masterpost) (Episode 04, first part) (Episode 05, first part)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes

Continued from the first half of this very long post! 

Lets Go! Gusu

Wen Qing is lovingly exploring the magical wards of Gusu. She tries a little digital penetration on the ward at the waterfall, but gets the hard nope.

Note: Here at Canary3d we don’t ship Wen Qing with any cultivator ladies because we’re too busy shipping her with modern-day infosec-pro ladies, if you get what I’m saying and/or have read my bio.

Meanwhile Wei Wuxian is fishing with Nie Huaisang, using the method of sneaking up and grabbing fish with his bare hands. This actually works, because he is good at literally everything.  His “I’ll be the prodigy” speech to Lan Xichen, isn’t actually arrogant. 

Aw, Look at Xiao Zhan pretending this fish isn’t already dead.

Nosy Parker Wei Wuxian

Wei Wuxian goes to chat up Wen Qing and none of his crap works on her.

If I want to admire a pretty face I’ll go look in the mirror

His interactions with Wen Qing help to mature Wei Wuxian quite a bit over the months and years. Initially she’s a mystery to him, and he wants her attention and esteem. And can’t get either.

Look how stunned he is to encounter a boundary when she won’t let him touch her needle. “Wards are made to be broken” but she’s not going to let him past any of hers. 

Jiang Cheng, Insecurest Boi

Oh you beautiful sad angry boy. 

(More after the cut!)

Jiang Cheng is angrily waving the laundry around practicing his angry sword moves without a sparring partner, which is noteworthy partly because it shows how dedicated he is, but also because it shows how much he depends on Wei Wuxian for social interaction and cultivation practice. There must be 40 or 50 kids he could go practice with, but he’s by himself.

Camera Operator: Why you gotta take it out on me?

When he bitches to Yanli about his Dad preferring Wei Wuxian, she gaslights him.

Yanli is so gentle and kind, and she’s been the real mother for both of these boys when she didn’t have to be. But she ain’t perfect.

Yanli found this soup recipe on youtube. The ingredients are: water

Jiang Cheng has such a complex about Wei Wuxian he won't take the fish from him directly. He just looks hungry until Yanli grabs a stick and passes it to him.

Look, Jiang Cheng, we know you have reasons to be upset, but you need to get the fuck over yourself.

Aw, look at Xiao Zhan pretending this fish is cooked/palatable. (note: it is not)

Xiao Zhan deserves multiple awards for this performance. With bonus points for gratuitously eye-fucking Wang Zhoucheng into next week.

Wang Zhuocheng is an amazing actor who plays an incredible range of emotions, but selling the “delicious fish” lie exceeds his abilities. Look how he steels himself before he opens his mouth.

Yanli tells Wei Wuxian to be good starting tomorrow, and WWX gives her his patented lying-motherfucker salute.

This one has 4 fingers, unlike the 3-fingered boy scout salute he gave Lan Wangji on the roof in the previous episode. The extra finger is for extra lying.

Lan Lecture: Goofing off

Wei Wuxian is bored and spends the lecture time goofing off or sleeping like any other smart kid with ADHD.

Eventually he draws a bunny while Nie Huasang tosses him a nut wrapped in paper and he eats it. It’s the same kind of nut he eats at the beginning of his second life, when he remarks that they tasted better 16 years ago.

Don’t mind me, just putting Nie-Xiong’s nuts in my mouth

It’s cute how WWX and NHS are so vaguely gay for each other without bothering to be seriously gay for each other.

Several of the rules that are read out during this part of the lecture are things that Wei Wuxian is doing during this part of the lecture, or will become known for doing in the near future.

sitting improperly

causing noise

teasing others

ignoring others and being undisciplined

borrowing money

being late

Lan Lecture: Showing off

The question & answer part of the lecture arrives, which is when Wei Wuxian gets to show off his gifts. 

He is that classic kid who already knows the essence of the material, does not need stuff explained, and is super bored at rote learning.

Lan Qiren makes Lan Wangji show off his skills to the whole class, which would guarantee an after-school ass kicking for the teacher's pet except that LWJ is basically the most aggressive person in the entire Lan clan (thanks Mom for those "I'm going to kill you now" genes!) and is unbeatable. 

Lan Lecture: Going off

Next, Wei Wuxian introduces an idea for sustainable energy.

He starts off challenging Lan Qiren's hypothetical scenario, and as Lan Qiren draws breath to answer him, Lan Wangji starts speaking. LWJ has been listening very carefully and is speaking out of turn instead of letting the master speak, which is...probably not how he usually conducts himself?

From Wei Wuxian’s perspective, this is just the run-up to his next outrageous suggestion, but for Lan Wangji, this has to be an enormous moment. This boy who is unexpectedly a good sparring partner with swords and words is also an intellectual sparring partner - someone who can give Lan Wangji an actual chance to debate something.  

Wei Wuxian’s answer "it's such a waste" is directed to Lan Wangji, not to the class as a whole. Lan Wangji, Gusu’s loneliest boy, is suddenly in a relationship with an equal. The relationship is adversarial, but it's EQUAL.

Wei Wuxian carries on explaining his idea: How about digging up and desecrating corpses? No no no Not for fun, but in order to have massive, unthinkable power? 

Seems like a waste to just leave the dead to their rest when you could be using them for something. 

Lan Qiren: I can see we are going to have to kill you eventually, aren't we

Jiang Cheng: oh my god Wei Wuxian you can't just ask about decapitating corpses

Jiang Yanli: perhaps my unwavering loyalty to Dad's methods with my baby brother should be reexamined

Nie Huasang: my dude, conceal don’t feel, seriously

Lan Wangji: hmmm he’s not exactly wrong

Lan Wangji was a LOT more horrified at Wei Wuxian sticking a note on Lan Qiren’s ass than he is at this whole demonic cultivation thing. Lan Wangji is really really attracted to Wei Wuxian’s talent and intelligence, even when it's completely heterodox. You can see it much later when Wen Ning gets his personality back; Lan Wangji is impressed and congratulatory, unlike literally everyone else in the cultivation world.

Punishment

When Wei Wuxian gets sent to copy a chapter 1000 times, Jiang Cheng and Yanli are both horrified, whereas Wei Wuxian’s reaction is totally chill. 

Basically he knows that he has reached the part of the classroom discussion where he is inevitably sent for punishment, because he is totally used to that being how things go in his education.

Similarly, kneeling doesn't bother him because Madame Yu made him kneel for everything.  Wei Wuxian is the mascot for too-smart bored kids everywhere.

On his way out, Wei Wuxian hits Lan Wangji with this troubled look of yearning. In this moment where Wei Wuxian is sparking Lan Wangji’s interest and tentatively seeking a path toward Lan Wangji’s heart, he is also mapping out the unorthodox path he will follow away from him as they grow up.  

Lan Qiren in his rage does the dumbest and, frankly, most irresponsible thing the parent of a teenager can do in this situation; he sends Lan Wangji to supervise Wei Wuxian’s punishment. 

"This terrible WWX is a one-man bad crowd. Let me send my deeply conflicted, stubborn, intensely private, teetotling, abstinent and abstemious newphew to spend several days in a private location with him, being bored together."

Lan Wangji responds to this order with 100% calmness, not even an eyebrow furrow.

I'm sure no cussing, pornography, romantic portraits, flirty ink grinding, or changes in forms of address will happen.

Lan Lecture: Blowing off

Wei Wuxian meanwhile has fucked off to go make more friends, and is hanging out with Wen Ning. Wen Ning demonstrates his archery by hitting the worlds slowest falling rock in midair and Wei Wuxian earnestly praises him and offers to trade skill pointers.

I love how sweet and kind WWX is to this younger kid who is obviously a little different.

When Wen Qing shows up, Wei Wuxian takes another opportunity to get into her business, but he skips the charm this time. He also 100% correctly deduces what she is up to.

Swords by the Waterfall

Then comes another sexy sword fight as Lan Wangji sneaks up on Wei Wuxian and almost get his face sliced open as a reward.

Now that the swords are out it’s time for...homework, sigh. Summer school is the worst.

Outro

Writing Prompt: Lan Xichen’s letter to Nie Mingjue after meeting Meng Yao

Episode 05 Restless Rewatch is over here!

#fytheuntamed #the untamed #the untamed gifs #chen qing ling #the untamed stills #restless rewatch the untamed #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wen qing #lan qiren #weilan #the untamed spoilers #restless rewatch #the untamed meta

[glynnisi]

ShieldShock Holiday Fic 2020       FOR  @ava-rosier      

At Ao3:  Snowbound Christmas

Prompts:

-There's only one hotel room left and it's a blizzard outside and There Is Only One Bed.

-Either at a Mall or an Airport during the busy holiday season, a villain is trying to steal/ruin the holidays and Steve and Darcy, who are both there for Reasons, team up to foil the dastardly plot.

-When Darcy wore her new, risqué Captain America xmas/holiday sweater to work that day, she didn't expect that he would actually...y'know...SEE it.

---

So, it’s been a while since I wrote. Hi, friends!!! :)  But I adore ShieldShock still and will always adore @mcgregorswench and the ShieldShock Holiday Fic Exchange.  I tried to capture the feel of your prompts, @ava-rosier .  I’ve done holiday in the airport before but can NEVAH get too much of THERE IS ONLY ONE BED.  Hope you’re having a wonderful holiday, enjoying seeing 2020 finally end, and that you’ll enjoy your ShieldShock holiday fic gift!!! :)

---

Snowbound Christmas

Darcy startled as the car door scraped open over deep snow and a gust of wind blew in to steal her breath. It was even colder than the previous times. Steve could move fast, but not faster than the blizzard winds. He shook his head as he slammed the door closed behind him, sealing them in the relative calm. The only sound at first was the rustle of her shivering. He turned the car on again and they both savored relief as the air around them warmed.

She shifted position in her seat. “Steve, my friend! No room in the Inn?” Darcy tried to sound upbeat rather than weary. “I’d so hoped the eleventh try would be the charm. I mean, those two were raved over in Google as ‘simple’ and ‘budget’. You wouldn’t think that would draw a crowd.” She continued to watch the snow fall, eyes going out of focus.

Steve shook his head and pushed his snow-damp hair back. “I tried all five places in the village. Cut across town on foot rather than wasting gas.” He frowned. “I’m too stubborn. Should ‘a stopped twenty miles back where there were more possibilities. I’m sorry, Darcy.” He kept his eyes on the road as he started slowly moving. The snow was falling hard, gusting winds whipping it around them with abandon. Even with four-wheel drive, good snow tires, and perfect reflexes- Steve didn’t dare go more than fifteen miles per hour. Driving was hazardous, more by the minute.

Darcy shrugged her shoulders. “The forecast was off. I thought we had more time before it got bad, too. I swear! I only closed my eyes for like twenty seconds. When I opened them again it looked like I’d missed seeing three inches fall. You must be freezing. The other motels are two miles away, aren’t they?” She shivered, both sympathetically and because the car was still warming up.

“I’ll be fine.” Steve sighed again and glanced at Darcy’s phone before staring ahead of them again. “Any other ideas?”

Darcy squinched up her features, “well…” She was glad Steve focused his attention on the road. She worried that her idea wouldn’t be well received. “We could ask the others for suggestions? Surely Tony owns something between here and the City.” Darcy held her breath. She’d seen Steve and Tony clash at the Avengers Upstate Base enough to know that he didn’t want to ask Tony’s help.

Steve reached in his jacket pocket and handed his phone to Darcy, groaning in resignation. “Had the same thought. See if he’s replied?” He steeled himself.

Darcy laughed merrily as she read his incoming texts.

“That bad?” Steve’s frown lines deepened.

Darcy’s lips twitched. “Nah, buddy-o. Tony’s busting your chops about being a damsel in distress. He reminds you that he’s been away from Pepper for a week and has injuries to rest up from. Says to cool your heels at a summer lake cabin of hers. Coordinates and key code provided. And to resist the urge to crash dramatically into the lake as it wouldn’t be very festive of you. Cabin can be drafty, but was cleaned recently. Which, yay! They were going to come up last week for a dating anniversary celebration before the weather changed and he took that mission.”

Steve nodded and blew out an impatient breath. He glanced at Darcy again, “does anyone other than Jane know you’re with me?” His tone sounded wary.

Again, Darcy shrugged and avoided his gaze. “I dunno. If the local mechanic didn’t have sick kids at home, I’d be driving myself through this like I planned. Probably would’ve crashed in a snow drift by now or be caught in the sadly-parked madness on the interstate you were smart enough to skip. Why? I’m sorry that coming for me put you behind schedule. You’re too kind, putting yourself out for little ole me. You probably have plans with close friends, or something.” She trailed off, uncertain if that was a fair assumption regarding Steve. As much time as they’d spent together since they met over a year before, he seemed to always be working.

Darcy frowned, sad for Steve. And for herself. She’d tried in vain to shake the crush she had on the loneliest Avenger. He seemed determined to stay lonely and fill his time almost entirely with work. Whenever he came to Jane’s lab, she struggled not to let her extreme thirst for him show. She ended up babbling most times, griping about stuff and talking nonsense. He came by the lab a lot, so she had many embarrassing memories to cringe about.

“Not really. And don’t apologize, Darcy. I wanted to help you. I’m glad you’re with me rather than stuck, or worse.” Steve chose to ignore part of her question for the moment. “I was just going by Tony and Pepper’s party at the Tower to keep some peace between us. Then I figured I might go to Brooklyn to see the crazy lights they put up there these days, and then maybe head down to D.C. to see Sam. Nothing firm. No big deal.” He turned into a skid and eased up on the gas. Anyone else would have registered alarm at the need to maneuver like that. The majority of drivers would have wrecked. Sleet mixed in with the precipitation.

Darcy nodded, silent. She clicked on the coordinates Tony had sent and turned up the volume on the phone directions. When there was a pause, she spoke up, “still sorry to keep you from your party, lights, and Sam. I’m relieved that you weren’t just planning to ignore the holiday at the Upstate Base again this year, though. No offense, but hearing you did that last year made me mad at you.” She let out an indignant huff and blinked back tears.

He raised his brows, but didn’t reply at first. Finally, not wanting to seem rude, Steve asked, “mad? Why?” He fought against both flickers of hope and melancholy.

Steve tried not to wish for what he believed he couldn’t have. He’d found that Darcy won friends easily, but rarely let anyone get close enough to know her the way he’d like to know her. She kept things light and funny, using her humor as a shield against intimacy.  He admired her ability to deflect when she used it with others, lamented it when she used it with him.

The first day they met, Steve fell hard for the brash, strong-willed, funny, gorgeous dame. And then he met her boyfriend, Ian. Even after that relationship ended, Darcy made it crystal clear that she saw Steve only as a friend. Her emotional shield pushed him back like the strongest of force fields. She bristled if he held a door or pulled out a chair for her. She acted like it was weird if he did anything for her- like bringing her coffee when he was getting some for himself in Jane’s lab.

Also, there was Darcy’s apparent dislike of soldiers. She cursed agents and soldiers as ‘jack-booted thugs’ every time a piece Jane’s equipment misbehaved. He’d overheard Darcy rant to Jane about her sister’s hard life with a military guy Darcy disdained as ‘Soldier Boy’. Steve was a soldier. He'd never regretted it until it came between him and the only 21st century woman he’d met who captivated him.

Her tone as she spoke next brought Steve out of his reverie. “I know that those you love from your time were more like family to you… that you still mourn all you lost.” Darcy avoided looking at Steve, “But, I consider you a friend and I don’t like for anyone to treat my friends bad… especially, themselves. Thinking of you doing busy work and walking echoing halls alone. Imagining you eating frozen dinners and training alone while the rest of the world celebrated? Too sad. Awful. I wish you would’ve let me, I mean, someone, anyone, know that you didn’t have plans.” Darcy swallowed hard around the lump in her throat. She’d held that in for the better part of a year and was terrified that she’d overstepped enough to anger Steve. If her voice sounded brittle, she couldn’t help it. Her feelings for Steve ran deep. She’d taken one look at Steve Rogers and lost her heart irrevocably.

Steve shook his head and joked to offer one correction, “I hardly ever eat frozen dinners.” He cleared his throat. “What did you do for Christmas last year?” Steve’s tone was mild, unreadable. He’d spent a lot of the previous year’s holiday week reliving the pain of seeing Darcy being kissed by Ian under mistletoe. It was a harsh blow since he’d heard rumors that they’d broken up and dared hope for a chance with her. Thinking of that terrible moment still filled Steve with potent jealousy.

Darcy cut a glance Steve’s way. “I went to the usual lame lab holiday party, complete with joke gifts and too much mistletoe. Then, un-fun family time. As soon as I could escape my dumb sister Beth and ‘Soldier Boy’, I got back to Jane’s. I made Thor watch Christmas cartoons while I struggled to explain the pop nuances of them to him. We drank eggnog. I exchanged joke gifts with him and Jane and Erik. Then we all helped serve Christmas dinner at homeless shelter. And I ate too much and fell asleep on the couch at Jane’s place that night. I ‘peopled’.” She glared at Steve and repeated in an accusing tone, “’Peo-ple-d!’”

Darcy frowned as she also remembered Ian cornering her under mistletoe before Christmas. He tried to get back together with her until she threatened to tase him. It had cast a pall over Darcy’s entire holiday.  That was one interaction with people she did NOT look back on fondly.

Steve chuckled weakly, “and you’re mad at me for not ‘people-ing?’”  

“You never want anyone to pity you in any way, but then you do stupid stuff like that! I mean, I was drunk when Thor told me, but it made me CRY.” Darcy shook her head and looked away, frowning, angry. “Sorry. Said too much. Not my business. I know. Sorry.” She hunched her shoulders as though concerned he might offer a rebuke.

Steve's face fell into a sad grin. “No need to… It’s nice that you worry about me, Darcy. Thanks for that.” He resisted the urge to cover her hand with his. “I’m sorry I made you cry.” Genuine distress filled him, that she’d cried and that he had no right to offer comfort. Something in her reaction brought out his deepest protective instincts.

Careful to avoid distracting Steve from driving, Darcy poked his rock-hard bicep. “Pfft. Silly. You’re not alone, even if you try. You have friends. I’m your friend. You know that. Right?”

“Friends.” Steve nodded, grim. “Yeah. Thank you for being my friend, Darcy.” He sighed, long and low.

Darcy nodded, unable to speak around the lump in her throat.

---

 Soon, they arrived at the coordinates. A tiny cabin nestled in the deepening snow. It was dark, but for a dim light visible through its large windows.

Darcy moaned, “finally.”

“I could carry…” Steve’s voice trailed off as Darcy threw her door open and jumped out into the knee-deep snow. She almost fell, but righted herself. The winds swirled snow and sleet all around her.

“Shit! Cold!” Darcy trudged with purpose towards the cabin. “So cold! And, eww, wet. Oh!” She input the code Tony had sent for the front door lock and shoved inside. Darcy kicked off her snow-covered boots and dropped her coat inside the front door. She scurried to the bathroom. “Some of us don’t have super bladder capacity!” Her brief view of the cabin interior was minimal. Dark shapes stood out against the eerie snow light through the windows.

Steve slammed his car door and followed. He shook his head and yelled back, “nobody has that” as he picked up Darcy’s coat, shook snow off, and hung it on a hook. He toed off his boots and set them and Darcy’s boots near the fireplace. Then, he peeled off his snow pants and hung them on a hook near the door. They’d kept his jeans dry.

“Don’t get your tights in a twist. I’m hurrying!” Darcy called from the bathroom.

Brows raised; Steve surveyed the cabin. He flicked light switches and swore under his breath as low, golden light bathed the tight space. The room was dominated by a low bed and floor to ceiling windows. A Christmas tree decorated with lights stood by the bed. There were at least a dozen pillows and a sheer hanging canopy laced with warm string lights over the bed. There was no sofa, only two reading chairs and a small table in front of the fireplace. A kitchenette took space along one wall. It had a well-stocked wine rack.

Mostly, there was the ridiculously romantic-looking bed. Face prickling with heated anxiety, Steve found a thermostat and started the heater. Then, he began to build a fire in the brick fireplace. The cabin was cold and the windows were more suited to airiness than warmth. The back walls were brick, attractive but cold in winter weather.

“Uh, Steve?” Darcy sounded sheepish; voice muffled by the bathroom door. “Can you hand me a blanket or look for a robe or something? I’m sorry to trouble you. My pants are soaked up to the knees and I can’t put them back on. They’re freezing. Wet with snow.”

Steve closed his eyes, still for several seconds. He looked around for a closet and saw instead a wardrobe. He grabbed a black silk robe, frowning at the sheer and gauzy red alternative hanging beside it. The top shelves held baskets of swimsuits, shorts, and other summer clothes. He took the black robe off the hangar and walked to the bathroom. He knocked and held out the robe, eyes averted. Then, he went back to work on the fire.

“Thanks, I didn’t think. Just ran to the bathroom. I…” Darcy stopped as she got a good look at the cabin. “Oh, holy… uh, night.” She cut a careful glance Steve’s way.

Steve shook his head and chuckled. “Something like that. Don’t worry. I can sleep on the floor. I’ve done worse.” He arranged another log in the growing flames and warmed his hands.

“You can NOT! Don’t be stupid. I won’t attack you. Promise. We both need to sleep and there’s room for two if we remove a few hundred pillows.” Darcy’s tone sounded more certain and stubborn as she talked. She rolled her eyes at him. “Make a line of pillows down the middle of the bed as a dividing line if you want to keep me away. Or, I can do it.” She frowned at him, set her jeans near the fire to dry, and moved to the kitchenette. Darcy opened the refrigerator, freezer, and cabinets to see what they had to work with. “Sorry about my coat and boots. I was gonna get them, I swear.”

Steve frowned, disliking her urgent anxiety. “No problem.”

Darcy opened a bottle of water and drank it. “I didn’t dare drink much water while we were stuck in the car, but I still needed a bathroom for at least the past hour.” She offered him a bottle, which he accepted and downed before returning his attention to his work. Darcy moved food from the freezer to the refrigerator to thaw. She opened a couple of cans of soup and put them on to simmer, and sat in a reading chair. “I checked the weather forecast while I was in the bathroom. We’re not getting out of here on our own power before tomorrow night at the earliest.” She tightened the belt on the robe and leaned towards the fire, hands outstretched. “Nice. Getting a little warmth there. Thanks.”

Steve excused himself to the restroom. On his return, he sat in the other chair. He watched the fire’s progress, then turned his attention to the deepening snow visible through the windows all around them. “Quieter now. Slowing down, or a lull before more blizzard.”

“Lull, according to radar. Fresh snow absorbs sound. Something about air between the flakes dampening vibrations.” When Steve gave her an impressed look, Darcy grinned, “I saw it in a meme on the Internet. Must be true.” She winked at him.

Steve returned her grin. “Internet. So helpful.”

“Except when it’s REALLY not.” She made a face, both sad and angry. “Beth met ‘Soldier Boy’ online. And, of course his worst notions get amplified there. Bleurgh.”

Careful, Steve dared, “what branch of the Military is your brother-in-law with?”

Darcy choked on water. “Br... Whaa?” She shook her head, hard. “God, no! Don’t say that. It might come true if you say it.  Eww! Grandma Esther'd roll right out of her grave to beat the ever-living sh… heck… pardon me, out of Beth if she marries that Nazi wannabe.” Darcy shuddered dramatically. “Crud. They’ve been dating more than a year. And, Christmas… You may be right. Ugh.” She spoke as she texted into her phone, “‘If you marry him, I’ll give you kitty litter as a wedding present, used kitty litter. Dumbass. BTW I hate him. He’s awful.’ Ugh. Delete. Delete. Delete.”

Steve digested all this and stayed quiet. He noted with interest that Darcy’s cheeks reddened as though with embarrassment. In his experience she didn’t embarrass easily. Her plush lower lip jutted out in a pout. “Beth’s dating a racist faux-militia-type lunatic. She’s decided she’s Sub to his Dom and overlooks his politics and crazy behavior. It’s nauseating.” Darcy frowned, sad, “I don’t see the attraction. Mom says the sex must be great, cuz she doesn’t understand the attraction, either.” Darcy twirled a piece of her hair nervously on one finger. “Mom thought she had the worst taste in men in the family, but Beth’s making her wonder.” She shook her head. “Sorry. Nothing to you. You don’t know them. Crazy family of a sorta friend.”

“I know you… some. I care more than you think.” Now Steve’s cheeks reddened. He hadn’t meant to say that aloud.

Darcy gestured as though to bump shoulders with him. “Nice.” She arranged the robe over her legs, both from cold and modesty.

Hesitant, Steve ventured, “you never mention your father.”

Darcy’s gaze turned his way. “Nope. Long gone.” Her expression hardened. “Thank goodness.”

After an awkward silence fell between them, Steve went to the stove and spooned soup into two bowls. He returned to his place by the fire. He handed Darcy her soup, noting her mild surprise at being served. They ate without speaking. When they were done, they both took their bowls and rinsed them in the sink.

Darcy walked over to the bed and started moving pillows. “Do you want a dividing line?” She didn’t try to meet his gaze.

“Not necessary. Let’s put the pillows by the windows. They’ll block some of the cold that’s coming in and making it hard for this place to warm up.” Steve pressed pillows along the bottom edge of one window. He glanced back as Darcy slid beneath the covers, still wearing the black robe. The warm light brought out red and light brown highlights in her long hair. She looked even prettier than usual in the golden glow. And he thought she was always beautiful.

Darcy shivered hard. “Sheets are freezing!”

Swallowing hard, Steve sat on the far side of the bed from her. “Want the decorative lights off?”

“N…n..not unless you do. They’re p..pretty. Make me think warmer thoughts.” Her shivers shook the bed.

Steve shifted so that he could lift the covers and lay underneath them. They were icy cold against his pants. He imagined the chill was worse against Darcy’s bare legs. He lay back and closed his eyes, feeling the motion of the bed from Darcy’s shaking. The winds began to wail again, harder than before. He opened his eyes and turned to look out at the raging blizzard. “Wanna lay back-to-back? I run warm.” As she shifted so that she faced away from him, he rolled to his side and moved back against her. He cursed himself as a masochist.

“Ohhh. Fuck, yes!” Darcy swore under her breath and whispered, “sorry. So sorry!”

“I know what you mean and you don’t have to avoid cursing around me. We’re not on a mission communicator in an official capacity. That ‘language’ thing they joke me about is nonsense. I don’t give a damn about how people want to talk in regular life.” Steve closed his eyes again, trying to keep his tone even as Darcy wriggled against his back. He heard her mutter thanks a few times. Making her feel good pleased him.

Five minutes later, Darcy rolled over and pressed her cold nose against his shoulder. She spent several minutes trying to figure out where to put her hands. She ended up crossing her arms over her chest and tucking her hands under her chin. Within minutes, she was asleep.

Listening to the sound of Darcy’s breathing as it evened out and deepened lulled Steve to sleep soon after. His face settled into a small smile.

---

 Steve supposed it was a slight change in the blizzard-muted light of day that woke him next. Languorous, sensual dreams dissipated through his hazy thoughts. Dream images of Darcy, kiss-swollen lips and bared creamy skin, heated his blood.

Then, awareness hit him hard. He and Darcy clenched in a lover’s embrace. Their legs entwined and her head was on his chest. Her sweet, feminine scent filled his senses. Her amazing breasts pressed against one side of his chest. One of her hands was against his arm and the other warmed the skin of his stomach, inside his shirt. It all felt so good and right that it stole his breath. His body’s natural response to his dreams, to her, and to waking was extreme. He was afraid to move lest any friction push him past sanity. A small, low moan sounded in her throat as she shifted against him. He tensed.

Her voice was raspy with sleep. “I know it’s awkward, but I’m way too comfy to regret it. You feel good, Steve.”

“Right back atcha’, Doll,” he whispered. Wishing himself back in his dreams, he kissed her forehead and squeezed her even closer. He wanted her so much he could hardly stand it.

Darcy made another small sound in her throat as she wriggled against him. The realization that he was aroused sparked her passions, but she didn’t dare to presume too much. Maybe it was only an impressive sign of morning. She followed his example and placed a chaste kiss below his jaw. She felt his heart pounding more quickly and closed her eyes again. She flexed her fingers against his ridiculously-cut abdomen and felt him jolt. She debated if any of his reactions had anything to do with her in particular. She wished they did.

Both of them were awake, but neither admitted it.  Each of them savored the embrace and the feel of the other’s body. They each fantasized about the other.  They fantasized about passionate first moves, expressing affection and desire. Want. They became lost in imagining more and more.  Time passed. Their emotions swirled like the blizzard winds that trapped them together.

They lay cuddled and simmering with unspoken desires until Steve’s phone rang. It broke the spell. He moved away from Darcy and answered the phone.

She watched the play of muscles under the back of his shirt and struggled to stifle her lust.  Darcy closed her eyes.  It was futile.  Her lust for Steve had been growing for over a year.  In this circumstance, lust was inevitable.

While Steve talked with Sam, assuring him that he was fine though the storm prevented him reaching the City, Darcy left the bed and went to the bathroom. She snagged her dry jeans on her way there. She took a shower and did what she could with toothpaste she found in the medicine cabinet and her finger. When she came back out, she hung the robe in the wardrobe and put on her Christmas cardigan. She looked through the wardrobe and giggled at the sheer red robe. Then, Darcy took a step back. She buttoned and straightened her sweater by her reflection in the wardrobe mirror.

Steve paused in his conversation, a gob-smacked look on his face, “what…?!”

“Oh! Yeah. I know. Gaudy, isn’t it? Well, last year Tony gifted the ‘ugliest sweater at his party’ winner $10,000. I know what he can be like, so I thought I’d stand a better chance of catching his wallet’s attention if I went a little on the sexy side. And I sewed in lights.” Darcy twirled and turned on the LED lights that adorned the sweater. Her dark green Christmas cardigan had bauble Avenger emblem buttons. A Captain America Shield button strained to hold the sweater together over Darcy's breasts. Silver and gold trim around the hem resembled tinsel. Red and gold lighted and embroidered ornaments dotted the sweater at random. It was a bit gaudy rather than ugly, but sexy most of all since the fabric hugged Darcy’s ample curves. She wore it over a tight red top and skinny black jeans. The ensemble played up her natural assets.

Steve could only nod in reply. He tried to turn his full attention back to his conversation, but didn’t do well.

By the time Steve was off the phone and had made the bed, Darcy found waffles in the freezer and syrup in the pantry. She had coffee brewing and was downing another bottle of water when Steve began stoking the fire embers and adding wood. They shared a quiet breakfast. Steve tried not to look at Darcy’s figure and failed again and again. He tried not to fantasize as Darcy licked syrup from her lips. He failed.

As they finished breakfast, Darcy looked around the cabin. “Aw, man. No TV?”

“Actually, there’s one over the bed.” Steve swallowed the last of his coffee.

“Over?” Darcy gave him a disbelieving look and went over to look up inside the bed canopy. “You’re not kidding.”

He chuckled and shook his head, “at first I thought it was a mirror.”

Darcy lay on the bed, on her back. She looked around for a remote control, finally finding one in the nearby window sill. “Icy remote.” She pointed it up and sighed, “but it works!” Channel flipping and streaming services browsing occupied her for some time.

She hoped rather than believed that Steve was looking at her with lusty interest.

Steve was. The intimacy of their situation and Darcy’s sensual appearance were a potent combination. He could hardly speak. He excused himself to go get a quick shower. He came back out a few minutes later, dressed again but still toweling his hair dry.

Darcy didn’t meet Steve’s eye as she offered, “you’re welcome to join me. Just friends watching television, ya know. I’m watching a silly Christmas movie. ’Scrooged.’ Okay?”

Steve shrugged as he made his way back to the bed. He shuffled, awkward, as he drew nearer.

Darcy shifted towards one edge of the bed, not meeting his gaze. “Plenty of room. Don’t mind me.”

He smiled as he sat on the other edge of the bed and forced himself to speak up. “Sam said that they’re busy helping first responders deal with stranded motorists. Hundreds of them all across the state. A lot of people didn’t have our luck and find shelter. I had to agree with him that it’s more important that they help them than us. I’m sorry you won’t have the chance to win the sweater contest.” He eased onto his back beside her, folding a pillow behind his head.

“Of course, they need to help people who’re stuck!” Darcy shuddered. “It’s super cold out there and the storm got out of hand so fast. I can only imagine. We’re fine here.” She grinned and turned to him. “You really think I’d win?”

Steve was struck by how pretty her green eyes were. He blushed. Her look turned quizzical. He nodded and spoke a thick reply, “yeah. Definitely.” Steve forced his gaze up to the television mounted above them. “I assume that ‘Scrooged’ refers to the Dickens novella?”

“Yup.” Darcy shifted further to the edge and lifted the covers so that she could get under the blankets. Once under there, she groused, “darned lights and ornaments are poking me.” She frowned, and unbuttoned the sweater again and lay it aside. Buttons and lights made a clicking sound on the floor by the bed.

After debating for what felt like an endless time, Steve got under the covers and shifted closer to her. “Can’t let you freeze.”

Darcy rolled up on her side and looked him in the eye. “It would be rude to let me freeze. I’m glad you’ve seen the light.” She winked at him, trying to seem playful. She thought that he was looking at her lips, but dismissed it as wishful thinking.

Steve assured her, “I’ll do my best to keep you from freezing. Wouldn’t want to be rude.” He put one arm around her, hand spanning the middle of her back. “I’m a polite guy.”

“You’re the nicest soldier I’ve ever met. Have I ever mentioned that?” Darcy ducked her head as a blush filled her cheeks. The way his hand covered her whole back made her feel tiny. Did things to her. Made her want his hands on her in other places. The fire she tried to play with was backfiring spectacularly, leaving Darcy breathless with desire.

“No. But I’m glad to hear it.” Steve gave her a squeeze.

There was a loud noise onscreen. Darcy rolled onto her back so that she could see the television again. She hoped Steve wouldn’t notice that her breath was racing.

After a few minutes, Steve nudged her. “Tell me about other soldiers you’ve met? There are good and bad apples in any group, you know.” He felt Darcy tense.

Though she didn’t look at Steve, Darcy decided to answer. She told him about Puente Antiguo and the SHIELD agents and soldiers who took Jane’s research- and their computers and even Darcy’s personal iPod. SHIELD ran a strange, temporary military base near the town and Erik worried about their absolute power. She told him about the shifts in those soldiers’ attitudes after Thor returned to Asgard. First, they were obsequious, but gradually more restrictive. They coveted Jane’s research and tried to control them all. After a long pause, Darcy shared, “some of them reminded me of my dad. He was military, Marine. Not a nice guy, especially to our mom.”

Steve rubbed Darcy’s arm as she talked. He felt that it was a privilege that Darcy was telling him something so personal. He didn’t want to break the spell, rather hoped that she might open up to him more.

Darcy blinked back tears. “He found fault with everything she did. She couldn’t do enough fast enough to avoid setting off his temper. Then he… well, you know.” Darcy ducked her head.

Realization dawned on Steve. “So, he never served her a dish or coffee even if he was getting something? He never held doors for her or pulled out a chair? You never saw him treat her with respect?”

Steve stilled as Darcy sat up on one elbow and stared at him, eyes wide. “Respect? No. No respect.” She grabbed the remote again. “Let’s look for something else. I saw…” Darcy glanced at Steve. “’White Christmas’ is about to start on this channel. I remember liking the dancing and pretty outfits and thinking it’s sweet. The story starts in your time, though. Do you mind?  Will that make you too sad?”

Steve shook his head. “I’ve heard good things about it. I’ll be okay.” He wanted to say that he was more than okay with Darcy next to him, but was too tongue tied.

As the classic channel announcer talked, Darcy shifted closer to Steve again. “I want you to be okay. The 21st century’s not all bad, ya know.”

Again, Steve kissed Darcy’s forehead. “Yeah. Thanks, Doll.” He stroked her hair as they began watching the movie. “This okay?”

Darcy nodded, wondering if he was only being nice because he felt sorry for her or if there was another reason. “Yes. Very okay. Feels nice.” As his fingers trailed down her back, she shivered with pleasure. She wondered if he had any idea what his touch did to her. She savored the feelings, the want and heat, for a long time. Other thoughts ran through the back of her mind while she tried to ignore them.

Most of the way through the movie, the 'pretend-engagement' conspirators confessed to Bing Crosby’s character. Steve commented, approving, “at least they fessed up and set him straight. Too many times in romantic comedies the people avoid saying what’s on their mind until it’s too late. It's silly.” He stilled as Darcy pushed back from him and stared at him again. “What?  You okay?”

Darcy nodded.  “I… yeah. Sorry.” She sat up on the edge of the bed, paused the movie, and grasped her phone. After a moment, she nodded. “I’m gonna do this. I’m gonna make this call before I chicken out. Wish me luck.” She grabbed the green sweater from the floor and slipped it on over her red top again.

“Luck.” Steve got up and walked around the bed so he could sit next to Darcy. She looked up at him with a grateful warmth that transfixed him. He nudged her shoulder to offer comfort as someone answered her call.

“Beth? Hi. It’s Darcy. Merry something or other.” Darcy’s knee bounced, betraying her restlessness. Steve could feel tension fill her frame. After a moment, she continued, “yeah. Fine. I found a place to stay. I’m with a friend. And, Beth?” She took a deep breath, “He treats me with respect. Caring and respect. Even if he were…” Darcy paused. She rushed the next words out all at once, “well, if he was my Dom? He wouldn’t embarrass me or push away you or Mom by making me say ‘Meow’ and only ‘Meow’ to you at his whim. He wouldn’t think that's funny. He wouldn’t call me a ‘dimwit’ or a ‘bimbo’. He… Beth? I’m sorry to criticize your choices. But you deserve better than that kind of stuff. I hate the way Chad treats you, the way he talks down to you and tries to change you. You don’t need changing. I don’t know if it’s just me that Chad can’t stand. But, if it’s not? If he treats you like that in front of other people? I mean, would he demean you in front of your kids like Dad did Mom? Would he hurt you? How much like Dad…? Scratch that. Sorry. He’s not Dad. I’m not trying to be an unfair bitch to Chad, whatever he says. I worry that…” Darcy gasped, “don’t cry! I’m sorry! No! You… what? He what? He didn’t… What?!?” She shook, both in her body and voice. There was a long silence on Darcy’s end as her sister talked and cried. Darcy only interrupted the flow of words to utter sounds of disgust and disbelief.

Steve went to the kitchenette and got more water. He opened a bottle of wine and made thawed meat into fried burgers and baked French fries in the oven. He took Darcy water and returned to work on their lunch. The smell of good food soon filled the tiny cabin. He stayed busy, but most of his attention was on Darcy and her conversation.

Finally, Darcy rasped, “Well, that’s… What?! You’re thanking me? No. What? I thought you’d tell me to go to Hell, not take my call as a divine sign that you should say no and leave him. Oh, thank Baby Jesus!” Darcy laughed through tears. “Yes! I know I’m a bitch and I’m causing you to throw yourself on Mom’s mercy at Christmas. Enjoy her cookies for me. If it makes you feel better, I don’t have baking ingredients. Oh, fine! Hm? My friend? Awesome like you wouldn’t believe. Uh, I don’t know. It’s… pffft. I need to talk straight to him, too. Wish me luck?” Darcy wiped tears from her eyes. “Yes! I love you, too. Now, go. Text me when you’re safe at Mom’s and tell her I’m safe and I’ll call later. Merry Christmas.” Darcy hung up from the call and stared at the phone, rocking in place until she received a text. Then, she collapsed backwards onto the bed and stared up, unseeing.

Steve stayed quiet, letting Darcy calm from her talk with her sister. When the food was ready, Steve returned to her side and offered her a hand up, leading her towards the fire.

Darcy stumbled to a chair. “Thanks. You’re the best.” She drank more water.

“So, did he propose?” Steve began eating again and gave Darcy time to answer.

Darcy ate a bite of hamburger with a few fries and shook her head, “nope. TOLD her she was gonna marry him. Told her!” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Jackass! Good riddance.”

Wry, Steve shook his head. “Not very romantic. Not that I’m an expert in that department, but…”

Darcy only nodded as she devoured the rest of her food and sipped wine. “I had no idea how hungry I was.” She looked at Steve, thinking how lucky she was to be trapped with a good person who exuded calm and kindness. She especially appreciated that after the intensity of her conversation with her sister. Darcy sipped the wine as she focused on Steve. Being with him settled her, made her feel safe. And looking at him was always a delight. Steve Rogers was handsome, to be sure. He’d rolled up the sleeves on his green and blue flannel shirt. Unfair of him to subject her to sexy forearms on top of all the rest. Like every shirt she’d ever seen him wear, this one struggled to cover his muscles. She’d given up trying to think of adjectives that could convey how attractive Steve was. And nice. He didn’t call her out for staring at him like a weirdo, mooning after him. He didn’t even press her to speak up now, when she was sure he must be curious about the ‘straight talk’ she’d mentioned. He gave her the space she needed to regain her equilibrium.

Respect. Steve treated her with respect. She had a wonderful friend who treated her with respect. She ought to be forever grateful rather than daring to wish for more.

Steve finished his glass of wine and poured himself another.

Darcy held her glass out for him to top off, then sipped it again. “This is good stuff. I never spend more than $10 on a bottle. I’d bet the cork on this stuff costs that much,” she giggled, “or even the label.”

“I’ll give Tony money to cover it when we get back to the Tower.” Steve shrugged.

Darcy glanced outside. Snow and sleet fell still. “That’ll be a bit yet.”

Steve nodded, not sure what to say. He felt happy trapped with Darcy, to have a chance to talk with her and hold her close. Even if she only saw him as a friend who kept her from getting too cold. Silence fell between them again.

“Wanna finish the movie? Sorry I shut it off without asking.” Darcy needed more time to gather courage.

Steve nodded, “no problem. Yeah. I’d like to see the ending.”

They took their dishes to the sink and then returned to the bed. There, Darcy took off her Christmas sweater. She threw back the covers and snuggled next to Steve under the blankets. He put his arms around her while she used the remote to restart the movie. Finally, the lovers in the movie sorted out their misunderstanding, kissed, and made plans for their future. Fierce longing overwhelmed both Steve and Darcy. Unconsciously, he stroked her back.

There was no one and nothing to distract them or come between them. Nothing except for their own emotional shields. But it was a day for dropping those.

Cheers and strains of the song ‘White Christmas’ sounded behind the words ‘The End’. Darcy ducked her head so that she didn’t have to look Steve in the eye. “I wish…”

Steve interrupted, “I wish that you didn’t dislike soldiers so much, Darcy. I’m a soldier and I can’t change that, never could.”

Darcy pushed back from him, “what? Change? You? No! I don’t… Oh! No. I only dislike the bad ones. I don’t like jack-booted thugs who steal Jane’s research and my personal stuff. I don't like Nazi wanna-be’s or, well, mean soldiers. I like… I like you, Steve.” She swallowed hard and jutted her chin out. “I wish that your work didn’t take pretty much all your time and that you didn’t miss your good old days so much. I wish…” She blinked back unshed tears. “I really wish you wanted to be here- in this time- with me, Steve. I’m sorry. I know you only want to be friends. And I won’t say anything more to make you uncomfortable, friend.” She smiled a small, watery smile. “Friend. I’ve done that for you all this time. I can keep doing it. I want any relationship we can have, even just friends.”

Confusion filled Steve’s expression. “Is that why you say ‘friend’ to me so much? Because you think that’s all I want?”

“Uh huh.” Darcy nodded miserably.

He inched closer. “And you like me even though I’m a soldier? And you want to be more than friends with me? Darce?” He whispered, “do you… want?”

Darcy looked up at him, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry to make things so awkward when you’re stuck here with me. Yes. I want! I wish that you wanted to be more than fr…Mmph!”

Steve kissed her.

He pulled back and stared at her as he cupped her cheek with one hand. “Sorry. I should ‘a- May I kiss you? I’m crazy about you, Darcy. I’ve wanted you for months and months. Want you so much I can hardly stand it. Not just friends, please. More, Doll.” His eyes gleamed with fervor.

Darcy nodded, stunned.

Steve chuckled, kissed her forehead and kissed her cheek again, with reverence. “Darcy, Doll… can I get a ‘yes’ to me kissing you?” He shifted so that his lips were a hair’s breadth away from her lips. Charged air shook the space yet between the two of them. He waited.

“Yes!” Darcy closed the distance between them and met his kiss with her own. They both trembled into it, a feather-light exploration. They each absorbed the idea that they’d misread what the other wanted. She murmured again, “oh, yes, Steve.”

He grinned as he kissed her again, deepening the kiss. He nibbled at her plush lower lip as he’d fantasized and dreamed so many times. Reality was a million times better. Darcy shuddered against him and groaned with pleasure. Steve stilled and closed his eyes. “Oh, Doll.” Darcy teased at his lower lip and he groaned, “gonna be hard as hell to be a gentleman with you doin’ that.”

Darcy chuckled, “who says you have to be a gentleman?” She shifted her leg to brush against his hardness. “Mmm. You were saying?” She nibbled at his lip again and played with the top button of his shirt.

Steve jolted and cursed under his breath. He kissed her quiet, again deepening the kiss and learning how they fit together. Steve savored Darcy's lips and tongue and throat while also exploring what she liked best. Sensitive spots. Sweetness. Eagerness. It was pure bliss. Darcy was becoming short of breath. Steve lay back and looked up at the next movie that had started while his Christmas dreams began to come true.

Darcy glanced at the Santa onscreen and panted. “I no longer have anything to ask Santa for.” She undid Steve’s top shirt button and kissed at the base of Steve’s throat. “I can think of a few things I’d like to ask you for, though.”

Steve grinned down at her, “same, Doll.”

“Oh?” Darcy undid another button on his shirt and kissed the exposed skin. She looked up at him and held his gaze as she undid the next few buttons.

Steve pulled her up for a long, slow kiss that set Darcy’s every nerve ending afire. She undid another few buttons on his shirt. When he shrugged it off, Darcy stilled, staring at his naked chest. “Holy…”

“Night?” he suggested. She snorted a giggle. He shifted her so that she sat astride him. He asked with his eyes if he could lift her shirt.

She nodded. “I may freeze, but yes. Please do.” She lifted her arms.

He shook his head. “Not gonna freeze. Haven’t you heard? I’m the man with a plan.” His voice tightened as he pulled her shirt up over her head. He shifted another pillow behind him and sat up some, pulling her towards him. He kissed her breasts as he reached around and undid her lacy red bra. “Damn, Doll. You’re a fantasy come true.” As he began to tease at her breasts with his lips and tongue, Darcy shivered and moved on him. He groaned, “here.” He pulled his shirt out from beneath him and helped her put it on, open at the front but warming her arms and back. "Looks much better on you than Tony's robe."

“Ahhh.” Darcy tried to talk, but Steve returned to tormenting her with his insistent lips. “G...good plan. Ohhh.” She squirmed in his lap, grinding against his erection with abandon. He let out a lusty groan that made her proud.

Steve pulled her chest against him for warmth as he moved up to kiss her lips and face again. “You’re shaking.” He looked concerned, but couldn’t resist kissing Darcy again. And again. He plucked and teased at her with his dexterous fingers. He loved the frantic sounds she made in the back of her throat.

“Not cold.” Darcy pulled back, then kissed him again and again. “Just want. Want you. Want so much.”

Steve shifted, rolling Darcy down onto her back. “Good thing, Doll.” He kissed her. Long, slow, passionate kisses that she met with a fervor that lit him up more every second. He palmed her breast and continued his exquisite torment. Darcy arched up against him, writhing. He lowered his lips to her breasts again. First one, then the other. Kissing and nibbling and sucking. She cried out and bucked as he swirled his tongue, hard. Darcy wasn’t sure if she would be embarrassed to come just from his attention to her breasts or impressed. Possibly both. Likely both.

He resumed teasing her nipples with his fingers. He placed open-mouthed kisses all along her belly. Steve took his time. “Beautiful.”

Darcy whimpered and began to shove her pants down. Steve stilled her hands. “I got you.” He undid the snap on her black jeans and kissed the exposed skin. Then he lowered her zipper and kissed her more. Darcy held the covers up with one hand and ran the other covetously along Steve’s shoulder. Steve pulled her pants and panties off and then moved back up her body to kiss her cheek and lips again.

“Pants!” Darcy begged him between kisses.

Steve huffed a laugh and unbuttoned his jeans. Darcy pressed against him, skin to skin. She wore only his shirt and warm red socks. Finally, he pushed down his pants so that he wore nothing.

Darcy’s eyes went even wider. “Oh, my. You go commando?”

He shrugged. “Habit. The uniform requires special briefs.”

She reached for him eagerly and wrapped her fingers around his shaft.

“Fuck,” Steve hissed.

Darcy's grin had a wicked glint. “Something like that.” She kissed down his chest and abdomen until she finally took him in her mouth. Then, Darcy delighted in taking Steve completely apart.

When he’d caught his breath again, Steve gave Darcy a smile unlike anything she’d ever seen from him before. It was both delighted and full of mischief that caused her pulse to race. He again pulled her astride his legs so he could taste and tease at her breasts. He left lingering kisses along the column of her throat and over her wrists. He disappeared under the covers and kissed her thighs and the backs of her knees. Darcy squirmed and unseeingly stared up at the movie. Steve didn’t tire, didn’t cramp- only focused on Darcy's pleasure with single-minded, super-strong drive. He had her writhing with pleasure long before he let her come. Another Christmas movie was playing onscreen and halfway over before Steve came up for air.

Finally, when Darcy begged, Steve slowly slid home. She realized that he’d been prepping her so long because of his size. She felt stretched wide as he twisted to hit her G-spot just right. She came quickly and felt as though she continued coming again and again as Steve pounded into her. He twisted her around so that he could plunge in from behind while rolling her swollen clit between his calloused fingers. After he came, he laid his fingers flat, soothing. He cradled her body tight back against his. Aftershocks left her spasming with pleasure. Steve kissed Darcy’s head again and again, murmuring, “sweet Darcy. Crazy about you.” She dozed in his arms, warm and loved and completely satisfied.

Dinner that night was steak and vegetables from the freezer, paired with an exquisite red wine. As they lay in bed afterwards, cuddling and teasing each other, Darcy felt Steve’s arms tighten around her. He buttoned a few buttons on his shirt to cover her and murmured, “company.” Soon, Darcy heard the sound of Iron Man landing outside the front door of the cabin.

Tony threw the door open and sauntered in, “I’m here to rescue you.” He stared, looked around and saw the open wine bottle and two pairs of pants on the floor by the bed, and shook his head. “Or, not. I guess Pep can stop crying about you being lonely on Christmas again this year, Cap. And I can stop wondering why you’re not answering texts. Nice shirt, Lewis.” Tony was blinking hard, slack-jawed with surprise.

Darcy laughed, “you should see the sweater I was gonna wear to your party. It’s around here someplace.”

“Lights up, sparkles, and hugs her curves to perfection. I’m sure she would ‘a won your contest,” Steve grinned, enjoying Tony’s shocked expression.

Tony smiled, “I bet. Well, Mazel Tov! Thanks for popping Cap’s cherry, Lewis. ‘bout time.” He pretended to wipe away a tear of pride.

Darcy snorted, “no way was that his first time. Orgasm hall of fame. All my Christmas dreams have come true.”

Steve ducked his head against her hair. “Good to hear, Doll. Right back atcha’.”

Tony shook his head. “Good reviews all around then. Well, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays kids. I’d guess you’re all set here ‘til it’s safe to drive again?”

Steve looked down at Darcy and she looked up at him. They both nodded emphatically and turned to Tony, “we’re good.” Tony laughed.

“Merry Christmas, Tony,” Steve beamed. “We’ll see you in a day or two.” He repressed a shiver as Darcy began teasing him under the covers again.

Darcy called out, “Merry Christmas! Thanks for dropping in.”

Tony shook his head and waved back at them as he went out the door of the cabin.

Steve pinned Darcy on her back and began ravishing her again, mock joking, “naughty girl!” He pushed into her again and set a slow pace as he rained kisses over her breasts.

Darcy looked up at him and batted her eyelashes. “Your naughty girl.”

Steve kissed her hard. “And my nice girl. Merry Christmas, Darcy.”

Gasping with pleasure, Darcy answered him, “Merry Christmas, Steve.”

 Fin

#glynnisi #shieldshock holiday fic exchange 2020 #avarosier #mcgregorswench #shieldshockficchallenges #shieldshockfanfic #darcy lewis x steve rogers #avengers au #thor #captain america #darcy lewis is a queen and don't you forget it #christmas shieldshock #starcy #ava-rosier

[thisselflovecamebacktome]

I do think they could explore more Rory background. Her father leaving, her mom's issues with her family, the pressure she got from everyone around her to be perfect. They did brough it up a few times, but they could go deeper into it. Also, Rory has a shitty taste for boys. Dean: didn't understand personal space and had that 'i'm poor and not cool' complex (and cheating on wife?????) Jess: was so............. jess idk why was he so angry?? Calm down!. Logan: had a shitty family and honestly after the rivavel it's obvious that he shitty too.

Yeah exactly with the Rory background stuff. Like it's told to us that all of this stuff impacts her and in some ways it's show, but that link isn't there so it comes off as messy/unrelated and I think some more exploration of these plots would have prevented that and made Rory more 3D to viewers such as myself.

I didn't fall in love with any of the romantic relationships they put Rory in either to be honest, but my thoughts on each are as follows:

Dean: I think he was the perfect first boyfriend for her. He was someone who cared for her and showed up for her and in many ways, I think Dean/Rory was meant to be the anti Luke/Lorelai counterpart to show how important attraction/love is in a relationship as opposed to just caring or wanting a partner as opposed to that specific person. Because Dean was right in saying that him and Luke are very alike and pretty much encompass small town life, but that's not the reason he wasn't enough for Rory. The reason was that she fell out of love with him the minute Jess came along and pretty much saw Dean as a backup who would show up for her in her loneliest moments. And he did, hence the whole cheating on his wife thing which was horrible on both ends (and makes the whole Logan/Rory thing in the 10 year jump weirder for me) and was predated with a bunch of scenes that indicated that Rory was lonely, not still in love. Like genuinely, they are Taylor Swift's We Were Happy in a nutshell. In saying all of this, I do wish we got to see Dean actually move on and move out of town on screen rather that just being told he has a partner and bunch of kids in the skip. It would have been nice development.

Jess: Out of the three major options, I think Jess was the right option to stay single and hint that he still has feelings for her at the end. I also think it would have been a cute parallel to have Luke being the man who stepped up to help Lorelai with Rory over the years and having Jess do that with Rory's child. Though I didn't really care for the Star's Hollow part of their relationship, he is by far the most developed of the love interests. And a lot of that comes down to Dean being written as Rory's love interest instead of a character and Logan being a cliche in my opinion. My only thing is that I wish we got to see more of that development Jess got on screen. Like each time he came back, he was clearly more mature, but we missed a lot of that growth. I will say I was impressed with the ending not having them be a couple because that's what I was expecting, but I feel like the writers had a good balance of implying those feelings while still having a somewhat unexpected end for them. As for him being angry, I assumed that was because of his issues with his mother being so flighty/free spirited in general and in relationships, and his father not being around which hey, again, could have been looked into more, especially because it mirrors Rory's situation a lot and is one of the things I wish was explored more tbh.

Logan: As I've mentioned, I basically feel like he got what I was expecting Tristian to get and it felt very "I'm a rich kid who hates his dad. No one understands me!" cliche. And it's sad because in theory, Logan/Rory should have been the ultimate couple. They had the emotional stability and him showing up for her that Jess/Rory didn't have (like him showing up at the hospital seemed to be paralleling Luke showing for Lorelai) and the passion and excitement that Dean/Rory didn't have. And yet, the relationship was flat and boring. And to be honest, especially when it came to the time jump, I feel like this relationship ended up mirroring Christoper/Lorelai a lot more than Luke/Lorelai.

Anyway I am ranting again, but yeah, I pretty much agree with everything you said.

#gilmore girls

[cloudyyoonji]

100 Ways To Say I Love You.

Bang Chan x Reader.

Summary: Between busy schedules and cozy cuddles, you both knew just what to say in the times of contentment.

Genre: fluffy!! Super super fluffy!

__________________________

Candle light and cozy cuddles, just how you loved it.

This moment was the perfect stillness to your kinetic week. It had become such a tradition between you two, to just unwind from the week, to take a moment to be together.

Fingertips trail down your arm almost like a ritual, both your gaze’s fixed on the movie in front of you.

You’re barely awake at this point, eyes landing sleepily on the movie, flickering from the video to blackness as you battle against sleep. It’s a war you know you can’t win, but you try anyway, focusing on Chan’s touch to keep you awake.

“You’re tired.”

His voice is soft in your ear, body shifting from under you as a laugh slips from his lips when you drop your head on his shoulder in response.

“사랑해.”

Your eyes flick open, searching the smiling boys face for some sign of what he said, though you could probably guess.

It flows off his tongue so easily, your voice jerky as you try to repeat it back, clearly not skilled in Korean.

Chan laughs, head thrown back at your pronunciation, making you groan in embarrassment.

Hitting his chest, you bite back a laugh.

“What does it mean?”

He only continues his laughing, shaking his head at you.

“Yah, Chan!” You exclaim, hitting the boys chest lightly.

“It means I love you, you idiot.”

“Oh.”

Once your initial shock wears off in less then .1 of a second, you sit up, a smile on your features as you look up at the boy.

“Io ti amo di più.”

Now it’s his turn to be confused, head tilting to the side as he processes what you say, lips forming to try and say it back with your exact pronunciation.

It only takes him a few try’s, a signature smirk on his lips when he finally does get it.

“That means I love you more.”

You don’t quite catch the boys reaction, resuming your original position; sitting back into Chan, a content smile playing on your features.

A pair of warm arms embraces you, fingers interlocking with yours in a heartbeat.

Peacefulness embraces you both in a blanket, a contentfulness filling in the silence like a warm hug.

And so this became almost an unspoken tradition between you both, no matter the distance, nor the time.

The autumn air made the apartment just the right temperature to bundle up in hoodies. So when you ventured into the kitchen on one particular morning, Chan’s hoodie decorating your frame in a size way too big, you were surprised to see the boy standing over the stove, frypan in hand.

“おはよう私の愛”

Good morning my love.

You press a gentle kiss to his cheek, arms wrapping around his middle as you stand on tiptoe, stretching over his shoulder to see what’s cooking.

“美しいおはよう”

His response makes you swear, stepping back with a pout playing on your lips.

You’d completely blanked on the fact that Chan is fluent in Japanese.

You groan, hitting his shoulder slightly as he laughs at you.

“You’ve got to tell me what that means! It’s not fair! You’re fluent!”

His body ripples with laughter, the sweet sound reaching your ears with a warmth that makes your lips turn upwards.

“It means,” he’s putting the spatula down now, turning to face you properly. A hand touches your cheek lightly, pushing away some stray hairs and tucking them behind your ear.

“Good morning beautiful.”

You try and hide your blushing cheeks, pushing your head into the crook of his neck, hands over your face. The boy laughs, hands now around your waist, pulling you back with him as he tries to get a look at your tinted cheeks.

“You’re too cheesy.” You state, head still buried as your cheeks burn with red.

“Only for you, Y/N, only for you.”

A single week later, and now you are the one holding him in a hug, the rest of the boys all smiles as they beam at the award in Jisung’s hands, another rookie award to add to the collection.

“Estoy muy orgulloso de ti.” you mumble into his ear, pulling back with a wide smile.

The boy tilts his head, smile replaced by slight confusion.

“I don’t know this one.”

You beam up at him.

“Its Spanish. It means I’m so proud of you.”

Now you’re tackled into a hug, the rest of the boys following suit until your all embracing each other, proud smiles on each of your faces.

The atmosphere is light, full of a certain clarity, which remains even some hours after the celebration stops.

Upon coming home, you can tell that Chans excitement is finally turning into tiredness.

Glass of water in hand, you set it down on the nightstand and quickly climb into the warm bed, shivering slightly as the cold air bites at your skin.

Laying your head on the pillow, you’re met with Chan’s gaze, one that was completely unreadable, which was unusual for him. Usually, you could read him like an open book.

“You okay?” You whisper, your hand reaching out to his under the covers, fingers tightly interlocking.

He nods, blinking back at you with the same unreadable stare, a slight smile tracing his features.

“Tu sei il sole del mio giorno.”

You’re heart beats in something close to adoration, eyes wide as you take in just what he said, and the sincerity in which he said it.

You are the sunshine of my day.

Though it had been years since you’d heard someone speak Italian, it was here; right in front of you, as clear as day.

You can finally see that his strange look is one of adoration, eyes scanning yours with a lightness that makes your heart thump in your chest.

It takes you a minute or so, his words finding their way into your heart, warming you from the inside.

“아주 많이 사랑한다”

“I love you so very much.” He translates, inner emotions now mirroring yours; such warmth and sincerity making him smile even more then he was already.

Eyes shut, Chan presses his forehead to yours, the gesture showing you a softer side of the boy you know a kiss couldn’t transfer.

It was merely perfect, a comforting moment you knew would linger on even when Chan would be touring the world.

And it kept its word, even in the loneliest of times.

Nothing had changed within the past few months they’d been gone, the blond boys smile still as bright as it had been that very night.

“Ich liebe dich!”

You shake your head at the group, their faces slightly pixilated by the screen, but very much alive and in front of you.

You can see that they’re crammed into the small hotel room, all sitting on top of each other as they struggle to fit in the frame.

“You beat me too it,” you exclaim, shaking you’re head. “But I guess I love you guys too. Ich liebe dich auch.”

“Don’t worry Y/N, it’s not too long till we’re back!” The maknae tells you, a hopeful grin triggering you’re own.

“Awh, she misses us so much! She loves us!”

“Yah, Changbin, it’s Chan she misses.” Seungmin scolds his Hyung, shaking his head in disappointment. “But we do miss you lots Y/N.”

“And I miss you guys even more. It’s only a few more weeks.” You tell them, smiling as they ‘awh’ at your words. “I’ll see you soon!”

Weeks became days as soon as the words flew from your mouth, an excitement settling in as you began preparing for the boys arrival, cleaning absolutely every inch of your apartment, even if it didn’t really need it.

It came so unexpectedly, not in the way you’d hoped it would. Ideally you wanted the apartment to be cleaner then ever, a surprise celebration to welcome them home, but it seems that fate had other plans.

2:03am blinks through the room in white light, illuminating you’re sleeping figure curled up on the couch in simple pulses.

The world is still, the book still open on your lap, fingers intertwined with the pages, and the letters forming vivid images behind your eyelids.

The door clicks open at the entering of a simple passcode, the blond boy dressed in all black entering the threshold with quiet footfalls, the suitcase behind him barely making a noise as it’s wheeled across the wooden flooring.

You don’t hear a single thing, content in the silence of the night and the rhythmic pulses of the dulled white light.

Abandoning his suitcase at the door, he creeps towards your sleeping figure, kneeling to gently pry the book from your tangled fingers.

Consciousness surfaces your nervous system, a small groan leaving your lips at your fingertips are brushed by the cold.

“Hey.”

The voice awakens your body now, eyes opening with a hazy fog glazed over them, not quite processing the figure in front of you.

A sleepy hand reaches for your glasses hidden in the crook of your legs, slipping them on a little disjointedly as you begin to wake up.

“Chan?”

Your voice comes out broken, sleepy in nature. Eyes widening, your body seems more awake then your mind, arms throwing themselves over the body in front of you, the surprising force behind the blow almost knocking the boy over as he laughs.

“C’mon lets get you to bed.” He mumbles, arms locked around you in a tight hug.

You barely manage to shake your head in his grip, pulling back and pulling the boy up onto the couch next to you, blanket now spread around you both.

Now it was like he never left.

The familiar smell and touch so comforting as you blink up at him tiredly, sleep still not quite winning the battle against your excitement.

His fingers trail over the back of your hand, soft in nature as he too tries not to succumb too slumber.

You look up at the boy, a dumb, sleepy smile plastered on your face. Infatuation seems to get the better of you, glazed eyes just scanning his with some kind of sleepy fondness.

His hand comes to rest on your cheek, thumb moving back and forwards slowly as you move a stray piece of hair from his face.

“I love you.” He mumbles, eyes barely open. Sleep is too close to winning, and it’s the same for you, a light glaze obstructing your vision as you smile in contentment.

“I love you too.”

With the words, the pulsating lights fade from view, fingers intertwined for the first time in months as a certain sleepy contentment blankets you even this early in the morning.

Between the white light and the cozy cuddles, this is just what you loved; the contentment that came with being with him.

#imagines stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids reactions #stray kids au #stray kids #au #skz #skz bang chan #bang chan skz #bang chan stray kids #stray kids bang chan #kpop #kpop au #kpop reactions #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #skz aus #Fluffy!

[fullmetalscullyy]

Roy has a girlfriend and she and Riza dont get along very well, she gets jealous of how close Roy and Riza are and tells him to choose between them. Roy doesnt even need to think to answer.

(hey i’m back to answering asks i probably should’ve answered weeks ago whoops)

thank you for this ask anon!! it’s an idea i’ve kinda always wanted to tackle but kept forgetting about lmao also this has spiralled out of control and will be a multi-chapter fic i just finished the first one tonight and there will probably be three (maybe idk it might grow more arms and legs who knows at this point)

fic title: “closer” from a song by travis

rated: t | words: 3479

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

ao3 | ffnet

A knock sounded at the office door and Riza Hawkeye knewinstantly who it would be. Glancing at the clock confirmed her suspicions, andshe would have groaned if she wasn’t in such a professional environment. Plus,the Colonel was in earshot and she wouldn’t humiliate herself like that.

“Come in,” he called, not looking up from his paperwork.Apparently, he had no idea who it could be. Riza didn’t know why. Their visitorwas persistent and clingy. She arrived around this time every day, greeting himso they could both walk home together.

Riza was no stranger to jealousy, however the last time she’dexperienced it was when she was merely a child. She’d been jealous of Roybecause he’d gotten her father’s attention while she’d been left by thewayside, forgotten about once more. In hindsight, she was glad she’d been leftto her own devices. Her father was insufferable, holding her to an impossiblyhigh standard which made the fallout even worse when she inevitably fell short.Being unable to perform alchemy – his alchemy – was the last straw.After all the pressure, the tears, and the yelling, he gave up on her completely.A year later, the apprentices began to roll in, none lasting longer than a fewdays.

But Roy… He’d managed, somehow. Riza never asked because shedidn’t want to taint their conversations with the mentions of her father. RoyMustang had lit up her dark childhood with a spark of friendship and she wasloath to ruin it with her father’s darkness.

So yes, she’d been jealous once before. It wasn’t hard tosee why.

But this… They were co-workers. Sure, they’d spent most oftheir formative years together. He’d become her closest friend, her confidantin her time of need, and a great pillar of support for Riza.

Eventually, he’d become her lover.

But that all ended after Ishval. The reasons were mutual, buton nights when she felt loneliest, she would long for his touch, his deep voicewhispering in her ear, his lips on her.

It made things… difficult. Especially now.

So, it was natural to feel disheartened when his attentionwas being diverted away, she told herself, especially after they’d beentogether for so long.

And as Eve Nesbit walked through the door with her usual toosweet smile, Riza couldn’t help but feel that little niggle of jealousy in thepit of her stomach.

Only because Eve got to be with Roy in the way Riza sodesperately wanted to but couldn’t.

Damn her and her absurd emotions. If she could glare atherself for being ridiculous then she would. It was immature and none of herbusiness. He was her boss, for goodness sake. Nothing more. She was happy thathe’d met someone. She was.

Riza didn’t miss the glare Eve shot her way though, when sherealised the office was empty. The rest of the team had left for the day, Havocbeing the last one to go who left ten minutes ago. Apparently, Eve was jealousthat they worked and spent so much time together.

Riza genuinely couldn’t understand women like that.

She’d had her fair share of it. The glares and whispers shegotten from other women as she walked one step behind the Colonel.

“Why does he want to spend so much time with her?”

“What does he even see in her?”

“Maybe they don’t just work together, if you get what I mean,”followed by a catty laugh.

Jesus Christ, women, just let me live, Riza would oftenthink to herself with a roll of her eyes.

She’d heard it all. If anything, her skin was bulletproof.Of course, he was oblivious. He was the shining star who played up his part. Rizadidn’t blame him. It had all been part of their plan to keep up appearanceswhile they infiltrated the military from within, but even now after the PromisedDay, it still happened. He still had a part to play to get to the top, afterall. His work on the Promised Day put him in great standing, but that was onemilestone down. They still had a handful left to go.

“Roy,” Eve crooned in greeting, hurrying up to his desk.Riza almost frowned at the inappropriateness of it all. A civilian shouldn’t evenbe in the building anyway. However, knowing the Colonel, he’d probably charmed someoneinto getting his own way.

Or Eve had snappily asked to speak to some young officer’ssuperior for not letting her in right away.

Yeah, that was more likely.

“Hey, Eve,” he perked up, shooting her a quick grin. He rosefrom his chair and Riza had to force herself not to gag at the very obvious wayEve grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, kissing him more passionately thanwas necessary. They’d only been dating a few weeks. Even Roy was caught offguard, one hand flailing to the side at the unexpected attention. The woman wasclearly in the honeymoon period already.

Eve was a petite woman. Even in her massive and expensivebrand heels, she only just met Roy’s height. Her hair was cut short in a bob,catching the light perfectly. Every time she moved every hair fell back intoplace effortlessly. Her makeup was expertly done, not a line or an eyelash outof place. Her smart, black, suit jacket and skirt screamed wealth, the fabricshining in the fluorescent lights of the office. In fact, her whole demeanourand attitude exuded that fact that she thought she was better than everyone inthe room.

Riza wondered just how the Colonel was so blind to itall. It was truly baffling.

Men, her brain reminded her.

“Let’s go, honey,” she urged, tugging his hand to pull himout from behind his desk. “We have dinner reservations in an hour.”

“I would love to,” he began, glancing back to his desk. “ButI’ve got all this work to do still and –”

Resigning herself, Riza stood and cleared her throat, tryingto get their attention. Hesitantly, she stepped around her desk and approachedthem both. Eve narrowed her eyes at Riza. The blonde knew she hated her. It wasclear in her dismissive attitude of Riza and the sharp looks, but Riza didn’t bite.She just smiled at the woman and let her live in her petty little world. Killthem with kindness, was what Riza had drilled into herself at a young age.It wasn’t worth her time to rise to Eve’s childish challenge.

“Go, sir. I’ll take over here.”

“No, I couldn’t –”

“She just said you could, Roy,” Eve retorted, notgiving him a chance to dismiss Riza’s offer. Clearly, Eve was desperate to gethim out of the room and away from her. Riza felt amusement bubble in her chest.“So, let’s go!”

“Really?” he asked, speaking to her lowly. He sounded doubtful.Riza knew him. He felt bad about leaving her to do it all. It was clear in his concernedeyes. She ignored how it made her feel inside.

Riza nodded and smiled at them both. “Of course. Enjoy yournight. I’ve got some things to catch up on anyway and –”

“Oh, perfect,” Eve cried, grabbing Roy’s arm and attemptingto drag him out of the room there and then. He resisted, smiling at Eve, buthis gaze turned back to Riza’s.

“Are you sure?”

Yeah, go and enjoy your night. I’ll stay an extra hourand a half doing extra work – unpaid – so you can get your kicks.

Shaking those petulant thoughts, Riza nodded, plastering a convincingsmile on her face. “I’m sure, sir.”

“Let’s go then, Roy!” Eve squealed excitedly. “There is thislovely romantic restaurant on The Avenue that I’ve been dying to try. It’svery fancy, so we need to go home and get you changed. Or,” she giggled.“We could go home and get distracted if you’d prefer?”

Riza’s stomach tightened at the heavy implication that theywould be going home for sex. Not only due to her personal feelings, but it wasjust plain inappropriate. Roy seemed to think so too, because he frowned slightly,but he didn’t stop her from continuing her rambling that was no doubt a ploy totry and work up Riza.

Eve clearly suspected something was going on between the twoof them – the woman tried every minute they were together to put across themessage “He’s Mine” – but it couldn’t have been further from the truth. The hada history, sure, but who didn’t? Even the boys had begun to notice her behaviour,and it irritated them as well. At least Riza had them on her side. It made her feelsomewhat pleased that she wasn’t entirely alone in this Eve shit show of tryingto get a reaction out of her.

“Have you ever been to La Taverna, Riza?” Eve asked.If a five-foot two woman could look down her nose at the taller Riza Hawkeye,then that was what she was trying to do right now. Riza smiled pleasantly ather, having none of it. Riza had worked underneath a homunculus, for goodnesssake. There wasn’t much that could shake her nowadays, especially not thiswoman’s attempt to try and tear her down.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Hm. Shame,” she replied, tone implying that it wasn’t ashame at all.

Wow. Just… Wow.

“Let’s go, Roy! We need to go and get changed if we’re goingsomewhere that fancy,” she urged, that wicked grin on her face, eyes moving totry and catch Riza’s eye.

“All right, I’m coming,” he replied, hastily grabbing hisjacket and car keys from his desk. “See you tomorrow, Hawkeye.”

“Yeah, see you,” Eve stated. Well, at least she gave her ownfarewell. It was the most insincere thing in the world, but it was a farewell,nonetheless. Usually she just ignored Riza completely.

As Eve all but dragged the Colonel out the door, Riza sighedquietly and turned to approach the Colonel’s desk.

“Hawkeye?” she heard him call. She almost jumped in fright,not expecting him to still be in the room. A panicked thought raced through herhead as she hoped he hadn’t heard her sigh. The last thing she wanted was todisrupt things, not just for him, but for her as well. She was managing Eve. Itwas easy, in truth, but she didn’t want to let on just much Riza just didn’t likeher. Not because she was with Roy, but because of her attitude.

She was even rude to the boys.

Turning, she saw him leaning backwards, a hand gripping theedge of the doorframe to keep his balance as his eyes met hers. Her stomachfluttered as she took in the sight of him. That lopsided smile, the excitementdancing in his eyes, and his dishevelled hair was causing it to do acrobatsinside her. It was grossly unfair.

Only because thatsmile and that excitement isn’t directed at you.

Oh my god, shut upbrain.

“You’re the best,” headded gratefully.

“It’s not a problem, sir.”

“Come on, Roy,” Eve giggled and Riza’s gaze moved tothe hand that had materialised by his collar, gripping it tightly to urge him awayfrom the door and into the night they had planned.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise!” he called as Eveeventually pried him away from the door and Riza. “I owe you one!”

They left her alone in the office with only their laughterto echo back to her.

Riza’s shoulders slumped in defeat as she resigned herselfto her fate. Story of her life, at work, alone, to pick up the pieces whileeveryone left to enjoy their evening and a social life.

With one final sigh, she picked up the stack of papers,lugging them over to her desk. From the weight, this would take so much longerthan just an hour and a half. What had the Colonel been doing allafternoon to become this behind?

Her answer came in the form of a case file. Interest piquing,and forgetting about her current pathetic situation, Riza picked it up, openingthe file and skimming through it. It was for a robbery. It had ended in ashootout that incriminated one of the military’s own soldiers and it had fallenacross the Colonel’s desk today as a request to hear his thoughts on the case.On the paper next to it, there were doodles and scribbled notes covering it, linkingthe evidence in the case and notes together.

He’d been working on this, that’s why he was so behind.

Leaving the rest of the paperwork, Riza took the file overto her own desk. She could have sat in the Colonel’s chair, but that would havebeen some kind of self-torture that she wasn’t desperate enough to turn to yet.She didn’t need to feel so pathetic while his scent shrouded her entire being.No, she didn’t need that tonight.

Absentmindedly, she flicked through the file, adding her ownnotes to his, trying to make sense of everything. She should help, she toldherself. There was information on the bullets and firearms used which he’d puta large question mark next to. In a circle, were the words “ask Hawkeye”and it had been underlined twice – a reminder to himself to get her input on somethingthat most considered her speciality.

It made her stomach flutter again, a slow smile spreading acrossher face.

Goddammit.

An hour later – Riza could see why the Colonel had neglectedhis paperwork. This case was drawing her in, and she didn’t feel like stoppinganytime soon – a knock at the door broke her concentration. Looking up with afrown, she was confused as to who would be calling at the office at this hour. Theclock ticked on the wall, indicating it was half past six. She should havefinished an hour ago, but there was something about this case that kept herhere. Not to mention the fact that she still had all that paperwork to do aswell –

“General Grumman, sir,” she greeted, jumping to a sharp salute.

Grumman grinned widely at her, stepping into the office fullyrather than just having his head poking through the door. “Lieutenant Hawkeye.You’re a late one tonight.”

“Just catching up on the day, sir.”

“Mustang procrastinating again?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Not at all, sir. He was distracted by the case you passedover his desk this afternoon and I offered to organise it for him while he lookedit over. Unfortunately, I was distracted by other tasks and couldn’t completeit in time.”

Old habits of boosting his image in the face of the upperechelon died hard.

Grumman just stared at her for a moment, before breaking outinto a laugh. “The way you defend and cover for him. It’s admirable.”

Riza felt herself blush slightly.

“I asked him to look it over with you in mind due to the confusionover the kind of firearms and bullets used, but naturally I expected it wouldtake all his focus. I just wanted to pop my head in to see how far he’d gottenwith it.”

“Quite far, sir. I hope you don’t mind, but I added my ownnotes to it.”

“Not at all, Lieutenant. That’s why it sent it over here inthe first place.”

“I’ve managed to pick out the exact firearm that would usethat specific bullet. It’s not military issue, so it would exonerate WarrantOfficer Turner. He did nothing wrong. His gun may have been fired, but it wasn’this bullet that killed the shop owner. Another sweep on the scene may revealthe actual bullet that was fired.” She offered Grumman her notes and he scannedit eagerly while Riza stood and waited for his response.

“This is… Brilliant. Simply brilliant, Lieutenant,” he commentedafter reading, meeting her gaze with wonder in his eyes. “But how do you know Turneris innocent?”

“The bullet used is made to look and test like militarybullets, but they’re not. I saw a lot of them out east,” Riza launched into herexplanation as Grumman perched on the end of her desk, his full attention onher. “I noticed their differences early on in Ishval.” She supressed the memoryof removing it from a dying man’s body and being asked by her CO to examine itand determine if the Ishvalans were using their own weaponry against them. “Someonewas manufacturing them as a tactic to instil fear into the Amestrian soldiers.What would do it better than thinking the Ishvalans had their hands on ourweapon and ammunition stash?”

“Very true,” he murmured, gaze dropping to her notes oncemore. “So, this same person, or group, has moved onto robberies?”

“Possibly, sir, but I don’t think that’s the case. I hypothesisethat these thieves got their hands on this tech from out east and are briningit back into play to cause chaos once more.”

“Terrorism?”

Riza nodded. “I think so, sir. Make the military think that itsown soldiers are turning against the state. Not to mention, ruin lives andrelationships in the process.”

“Very good, Hawkeye. Excellent work,” he complimented inawe, an impressed smile spreading across his face. Riza shifted uncomfortablyunder his gaze, unused to someone complimenting her work. The boys did, and sodid the Colonel, but this was different.

She couldn’t remember the last time a family member had praisedher so much either.

“I would like your help further on this case, if you’rewilling?” Grumman proposed, standing from the edge of the desk.

“I would be happy to help, sir.”

“Excellent,” he grinned. “Report to my office tomorrow morningat 0800 hours. I’ll pass on the message that you’ve been temporarily assigned undermy command for the foreseeable future to Mustang tomorrow, seeing as he leftyou to pick up his slack,” he winked as he turned to take his leave. “Let thepoor boy suffer for his self-centredness, shall we?”

“I don’t –” Riza began, cringing. She didn’t want to cause ascene.

Grumman chuckled. “Not to worry, my dear. I’ll make sure it’spassed on. Leave that leftover work and go home. Mustang can do it tomorrow. Itserves him right for leaving you to do it alone.”

“He didn’t –”

“Plus, you’ve done more than make up for him not completingit in time. However,” he added, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “I knowMustang well enough and I know you, Lieutenant. I know he was a lazy bumand didn’t finish his work on time, didn’t he? And you volunteered your free timeto stay late and finish it, didn’t you?”

Riza said nothing, but the uncomfortable look on her faceprobably gave her away. Grumman just laughed.

“I won’t tell, Riza, my dear. Now go home and get some rest.I look forward to finally getting stuck in with this case tomorrow,” hegrinned, leaving the office with a wave.

The silence wrapped round her as she processed what had justhappened.

Okay. New assignment. A thrill went through herstomach in anticipation of tomorrow. Not only would she get out of the officewhile the Colonel suffered with his paperwork, a small part of her was pleasedshe probably wouldn’t see Eve again for a few days. A blessing that she neededright now.

She just wanted some peace.

Glancing over to the Colonel’s desk, she eyed the paperworkthat was still untouched. Making her decision with confidence, Riza grabbed herpurse and packed up her belongings from her desk, leaving it tidy andpresentable as she wouldn’t be using it for a few days. Like Grumman implied,it served the Colonel right for being so lazy all day and leaving tasks to thelast minute, only for it to be pushed aside when something more interestingcaught his eye.

Riza tried hard not to tie that analogy to herself and Eve.Tried. But the heart is a fickle thing.

Maybe this was just what she needed. A break from him.

As she left the office, she walked with a purpose in herstep.

#royai #royai fic #royai fanfic #ask #anon #writing prompts #fic request #emma writes #closer

[risingphoenixrp]

Frank Longbottom | 28 | Gryffindor | Pure-blood | Order of the Phoenix | FC: Manny Jacinto|

Date of birth: 1950., England

Occupation: Auror

Ship: Alice Fortescue

Biography:

CHILDHOOD

Herbert and Augusta Longbottom wanted nothing more than a child of their own, and after years of trying, they were finally granted their first and only. Frank was a happy baby who was loved beyond words-perhaps a bit too much. Herb, an auror, was often assigned long undercover missions in the muggle world which left Frank alone with his mother Augusta. Worried about her husband, Augusta made up for her anxieties by being very overprotective when it came to her son. As Frank grew, so did his bond with his mother, and by the time he was ready to leave for Hogwarts both of them cried. His co-dependency on Augusta was cause for teasing among the local children in his neighborhood, resulting in Frank being a rather reserved, quiet boy-perfect for showing off at his mother’s tea parties but not well apt to making friends.

HOGWARTS

All of that changed, however, when the moldy old hat shouted “Gryffindor!” Frank had honestly been surprised-he’d overheard his parents discussing what to do if he was going to be placed in Hufflepuff-but the bigger surprise was the built-in friends his newfound identity brought him. Arthur Weasley, Alastor Moody, Molly Prewett, Cleona O’Dempsey, none of them seemed to mind that he was close to his mum. In fact, the girls thought it was sweet. Frank’s first year brought him out of his shell, and suddenly, he never wanted to go home ever again. That changed, of course, when McGonagall summoned him at two in the morning one night close to the end of Spring term. Still in his pajamas and dressing gown, Frank was told gently and firmly while standing there in Dumbledore’s office, that his father had been killed in the line of duty. Bare feet freezing on the stone floor, Frank felt an intense grief settle over him that stayed for nearly two years. The rest of that year and his second are a blur in his memory, and it’s frankly amazing he passed his classes at all. But as much as Frank felt alone, he never was, not really. His friends closed ranks around him, Arthur and Al taking turns to stay up and finish Frank’s homework in addition to their own, Cleona threatening (and twice following through) to curse anyone dumb enough to poke fun and Molly constantly gifting him her first attempts at knitting-Frank still has a pile of the later dubbed ‘sympathy scarves’ in the back of his closet, and whenever he finds them Frank is filled with a now familiar warmth. That warmth, towards the start of his third year grew into something more. The more he watched and got to know Molly, the more he became convinced that he was in love with her-that her silly little crush for Arthur would go away and she’d eventually realize Frank was for her. Then again, the more Molly talked about her silly little crush on Arthur, the more Frank...saw her point. He didn’t have the vocabulary at the time to know what ‘bisexual’ meant, but all he knew is that when two of his best friends started dating in year four, it hurt like hell. He’d never been the jealous type, and any idiot could see how perfect the eventual Weasleys actually were for each other, but even now in adulthood, occasionally, seeing their perfect life together still stings. Then Cleona and Moody made things even more complicated by starting their dramatic tumultuous love affair in sixth year, leaving Frank as the permanent fifth wheel on one of those muggle ‘cars’ Arthur never shut up about. Despite the drama in his (lacking) personal life, Frank was an exceptional student. Though his mother was hard on him when it came to grades, Frank surpassed her expectations by getting enough OWLs and NEWTs to get any career he wanted. But it didn’t matter.

Frank Longbottom had some pretty big shoes to fill.

YOUNG ADULTHOOD

The Auror training program was one of the loneliest times of Frank’s life. The long hours meant that he barely had time to see his friends. Alastor was in the program with him, but his recent break up with Cleona meant the normally distant man had become downright surly and threw himself even harder into his work than Frank thought possible. Still, even with the exhaustion and the toll it took on his emotions, Frank left the program knowing he was doing what he was born to do. The job, weirdly enough, has its fair share of groupies, and Frank has dated several of them-men and women alike, since taking the position nearly ten years ago, but he still hasn’t found someone he can see himself settling down with. Frank’s married to the job, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. His work has made him an exceptionally skilled dueler and incredibly quick with his wand. He enjoys breaking in new recruits by going toe to toe in the dueling ring, almost always winning with a smile on his face and a hand to help them up. Forgetful, it’s not uncommon to see Frank hurrying off to a meeting with a trail of paper and objects behind him, zooming into his pockets as the elevator door closes. His smile, however, comes quickest of all. Though serious about his work, Frank is rarely serious about life, and he’s known for always being able to look on the bright side when things in the department go awry. That being said, sometimes Frank feels himself put on a front for everyone else, not wanting to let anyone down by letting them know what he’s really thinking.

Frank has also become an ambassador of sorts for the department, having recruited defunct Quidditch player Benjy Fenwick pretty much straight from St. Mungo’s and typically being the go-to partner for new recruits. There was a running joke that whenever Longbottom went to the hospital, he’d come back with a new partner, and Frank always went along with the joke and had never minded-that is, until Alice became his partner. Spunky, smart and hilarious, Frank couldn’t help but immediately like the impressive (and young) new recruit. That warmth, that dangerous (and stupid) feeling of a crush forming, creeps into his mind sometimes when he’s with Alice after a long shift, unwinding at a pub. Or when they’re on the brink of breaking a case and she smiles at him, proud when he compliments her. Or when he catches her laughing at a joke he’s told. Or when you know, she exists. Frank’s got it pretty bad for his partner, but he knows under no circumstances should he follow through. At best, he’d start a relationship with someone nearly ten years younger than him that could risk everything he’s worked his entire life for, and at worse?

He’d have to tell someone his feelings for them. Frank goes to work every day willing and ready to risk his mind, his soul, his body-but his heart? Not on your life. The office isn’t the place for affairs, and while Frank knows this, each time Alice touches his arm or looks at him a little too long is another crack in the hard outer shell of the positive, responsible Auror he’s worked so hard to become.

While Frank’s stance on workplace romances might shift, depending on circumstance, his stance on the war and who he’s fighting for never will. Frank joined the order the second he heard about it. While Dumbledore assures him that his work as an auror does more for the Order than he could ever imagine, Frank can’t quite shake the fact that his old headmaster underestimates him. Frank Longbottom isn’t the scared, barefoot, grief-striken eleven year-old anymore, and it’s time people learn it.

Frank’s grown. He’s trained, he’s studied, he’s fought. He’s proved himself.

And here’s hoping, one of these days, he’ll find himself.

Connections

Alice Prewett-Fortescue

Amelia Bones

Cleona O’Dempsey

Arthur Weasley

Molly Weasley

Benjy Fenwick

Kingsley Shacklebolt

Alastor Moody

Andromeda Tonks

Deadelus Diggle

Edgar Bones

Status: Open

#Frank Longbottom #marauders rp #hp rp #marauders era rp #harry potter roleplay #harry potter rp #open #ordero #Manny Jacinto

[lonelyboy-in-space]

Luther Hargreeves-centric Fic Rec

(pt. 1

Feel free to add your own (or even oh idk... write them..)

mostly angst

Eggshells by El_Imprestavel

He can't fail. He can't disappoint. Never. That’s what being Number One means, in the Umbrella Academy.

Self-doubt, emotional/psychological abuse.

dedication bordering on inhumane by s1357

This practice in empathy is foreign, a weird taste in his mouth, but Luther finds he actually wants to comfort.

Or, Luther reaching into his heart and giving six different pieces to six different people over the course of nineteen years.

Luther bonding with his siblings in a healthy way! Still angsty.

Every Mountain You Climb Takes You Further Away by siriuslyrose

In 1989, Sir Reginald Hargreeves adopts seven babies from around the world. By 2007 only one remained.

They all left for slightly different reasons. But for all six of them it was The Monocle that forced them out the door. Ironically, he was also the reason his Number One never follow them.

This is the story of how the Umbrella Academy went from Six (Seven) members to One.

How everyone left, and only One stayed.

00.01 by verybi_verytired

Number One - Spaceboy - Luther

a short, poem-like fic centring on self-doubt and Ben’s death.

run fast, run away (run straight into the loneliness) by ambroses

three snapshots into number one's life featuring his siblings

one of my favourites. features luther being excluded in sibling outings, his pressure of being number one, and his siblings being mean.

Pretend That We’re Safe at the End by CourtneyCourtney.

It makes Diego’s stomach turn, how easily he can picture it happening. Luther met with Reginald in private after every mission. Sure, they’d all always had some kind of meeting with dear old Dad afterwards, but Luther was the one he spent the most time on. It wasn’t like anyone kept track of how long he was in Dad’s study. No one would have thought to check in on them, to stop them, and Luther would have been too proud to tell anyone back then, even Mom.

(Written for a prompt on the umbrellakink meme: "child sexual abuse, Luther/Reginald, someone finds out about it and when they confront Luther, he breaks")

what it says on the tin.

clip my wings and look at the sky by lesbianbettycooper

The moon is lonely. His only companions had been Ben and the sporadic, at best, check-ins from home.

It took him a while to get used to. He’d never had many friends besides, if you could even count them, his siblings but at home, there was always people around. Pogo, Mom, his father, people out on the street.

When he was the last one remaining, the silence would feel suffocating, he would go days without having to speak to anyone.

or; luther like.... reflects. i guess?

The Price of Obedience by madame_faust

What was going through Luther's mind as he looked at Vanya from the top of the stairs?

Major spoilers for 'Changes.'

This Isn’t Me or You by Katydid_99

This isn't Five's body.

This isn't Luther's body, either.

Maybe they can reach a common ground...

Dealing with Five’s issues of body dysmorphia, and trying to talk some sense into Luther about his non-consensual body mutation.

Boys Don't Cry (and Other Rules) by Anon_and_on_and_on_and_onnnnnnn

Children are not machines.

Your sons are not your soldiers.

The Hargreeves boys are not okay.

Only one chapter at the moment, but the first one is Luther-centric.

Some Leader by Marmarhargreeves

Luther used to be the dream boy.

Reginald defiled him, stripped him the agency he once had over his own body. He was no longer gorgeous, no, far from it. He was a monster. He turned into this hideous, heinous creature. His body, something he took so much pride in, something that quite literally defined him, was no longer what he knew. It was something he despised.

Warning: body hatred, bulimia, body dysmorphia 

(by the ever so lovely @queerhargreeves)

Skin by GlitterBitch147

*Mentions of Self Harm* A character study based on an interview with the TUA cast/crew about Luther.

we are no heroes, my dear by Sternstunde

“Ben,” he repeats, then shakes his head, “look at Luther.”

15 minutes later Ben’s blinking. “His movements…”

Klaus remembers.

“The rave was his first time taking drugs, wasn’t it?”

-

In which Klaus decides that Luther needs some family bonding, but ends up arguing with Five and revealing some stuff.

Luther remembers how the drugs at the rave made him feel better.

the other side by punkcowboy

When Luther was on the moon, he had a lot of time to himself. Whenever he felt sad, or lonely, he would dream about having a garden

leaders don’t cry by punkcowboy

leaders don’t cry, and monsters never die

or

Luther sometimes finds himself unable to breathe

Short and poetic.

Finding Yourself by KaytiKitty

Luther needs help to figure out his sexuality.

One Is The Loneliest Number by 1The_Quiet_Samurai1

Luther was fucked up. He knew it.

Unrequited Luther/Vanya, as Luther develops feelings for Vanya after they time-travel back. as a type of coping mechanism from what he did to her before

Brother Mine by orphan_account

They weren’t identical, but they looked similar enough that it was obvious that they were twins. Technically, all seven of them considered themselves to be something of a group of septuplets, seeing as they all shared the same birthday. But Luther and Five were special, they were full siblings. Related by blood, the only link they had to who their real family was.

But then Luther dyed his hair blond.

I'm tired of being alone (and you're more than enough) by TrippinOverMyFandoms

Luther Hargreeves was eighteen years old and the last remaining member of the Umbrella Academy. He's preparing for a life time dedicated to saving the world even if that means being alone. That is until the brother he hasn't seen in five years shows up in the courtyard.

This is their life together.

Follow Luther and Five as they uncover secrets about themselves and each other as well as things Reginald has hidden from them and the struggles that come with being a dysfunctional family.

tell me when my sorrow's over by WeWalkADifferentPath

The reunion with Luther is a bit of an accident.

In the end, the decision is all but entirely made for him, because Luther sees him.

Reunion between Ben and Luther after Klaus learns how to conjure him, but Ben is still a little mad at Luther.

gimme shelter by wearealltalesintheend

Klaus skids to a stop in front of Luther’s room, nearly colliding with the wall. He didn’t really have to run all the way from the end of the hall like this, but he felt it carried the appropriate amount of urgency for the situation.

“Have you seen Diego?” He asks, panting, and leans against the doorway to catch his breath. Behind him, Ben arrives walking calmly.

Luther, who had been clearly only pretending to read and actually nodding off, looks up, closing his book and sitting up in bed. “He left with Five an hour ago, why?”

“Oh, nothing. Okay, okay, that’s fine,” Klaus drums his fingers in the wood, starts picking at the chipped paint there. “Have you seen Allison, then?

Now, Luther is frowning suspiciously. “Yes. She left with Vanya to have brunch.”

Well shit.

.

or, the one where Klaus adopts a pet, everyone is out, and Ben can't be trusted to look after a small animal on his own

based on the prompt: Klaus and Luther bonding!

It Will Rise In Perfect by Light syrupwit

Few but those who knew him might have guessed it, but Luther loved poetry.

For A Sister's Sake by GinnyBloomPotter

Number One liked to think that, at seven whole years old, he knew exactly what his role was in this world. One night, he sees something that challenges that.

Forgiveness For The First by Anonymous

In the aftermath of the apocalypse, Luther avoids any physical contact. Especially from Vanya.

My absolute fucking favourite in this entire list. Ticks all the boxes for me.

Partita No. 1 in B Minor by neneyeeee

On October 2, 1999, the seven adopted children of eccentric billionaire and entrepreneur, Reginald Hargreeves, go missing.

(Or: After Number Seven kills the last nanny, Reginald does not create Grace and the children of The Umbrella Academy are left without a mother. As the pseudo-oldest, Number One takes things into his own hands.)

((Or: Without Grace, the Hargreeves children turn to each other for comfort.))

#luther hargreeves #fic rec #fanfiction #tua #the umbrella academy #luther hargreeves defense squad #luther hargreeves protection squad #luther positivity #luther whump #luther hargreeves whump

[jcmorrigan]

Another f/o ramble...but this time, not a selfshippy one. This one’s more about ficfam, so I guess “ficfam” is another tag to block if you don’t wanna see my ridiculousness (and I do wanna come up with a weird name for our family unit as well for tags)

But lately, I realized I kind of...needed a certain type of parental f/o. Sometimes you just...feel there are parts of you the RL parents don’t get, even if the RL parents are extremely nice. And sometimes you just want somebody to tell you they’re proud of you in a very, very big sense at a time when it wouldn’t be convenient for RL parents to do so. Or maybe “you” is “just me.”

I’d kind of accepted Archibald Snatcher as a distant father-mentor figure a while back because I managed to pick up some of his silver-tongued manipulation skills to talk my way out of minor sticky situations and resolve work stuff, and I always imagine him thinking I’m just a wonderful little protégé...but I wanted some imaginary ‘rents I could rely on for affection anywhere, anytime, and Archie isn’t that.

So this time, I thought about Giovanni and what contributed to him being such a good romantic f/o, and realized a big part of that was that he was in a morally gray place - I like having someone around who’s kind and sensitive and fun, but also lets me do some BAD THINGS and allows me freedom. So I realized my ideal parental f/o’s had to be somewhere in that range. I had thought about Globby and Felony Carl, but it didn’t quite click (even though I think they have super Dorky Dad vibes). But then another idea hit me...and I think I have the answer? I’ve been liking it for almost 24 hours, anyway.

I think Moxxie and Millie from Helluva Boss are my parental f/o’s now.

They fit the moral gray spectrum - they have intense loyalty to each other and display the love of the sweetest family units, but they’re also trained assassins who solve problems with guns. And, just, thinking about it, giving myself an AU where I was an imp raised in VivzieHell (I imagined myself as a kiddo being raised by them from youth, so a lot of these will sound kiddish)...

-Millie is just a bundle of love. She’s always chipper and singing and dancing with me, playing games.

-Moxxie is a bit more straitlaced, and he’s not exactly the “fun parent,” but I can’t stay mad at him for too long, because he’ll personally come into my room and sing me a song he wrote especially for me on his guitar until I fall asleep.

-I was a very...emotional child, even more so than I am now. I had anger issues. Unfortunately, living with these two would not have solved that, as their resolution to problems is to 1. scream at it 2. kill it with fire, but in this AU, I kind of like being able to just get angry and be a loose cannon and just LOSE all decorum and get it off my freakin’ CHEST. Let me have some more meltdowns to achieve more calm-down time.

-Speaking of which, Moxxie and I would be cut from the same cloth in that regard, and if Millie can handle Moxxie’s mood swings, she can handle mine!

-I also think Moxxie being so neurotic would also give him some sympathy for having a hypochondriac daughter who thinks she has cancer every five months or so. (Even if his first reaction is always a very deadpan “You don’t have cancer.”)

-But during purges, we’re all three scared and just huddle in the back bedroom together.

-When I get a new crush, Millie wants to hear all about THE BOOOYYYYY and goes on a big old quest to get him and me on a DATE!

-They’re Viv characters, so I have no doubt they’re 100% A-okay with having an ace daughter...even if I have to be grossed out with constant reminders that my parents FUCK ALL THE TIME

-Anyone hurts me? Oh, they’re about to meet the business end of every single one of Moxxie and Millie’s weapons.

-That person’s double dead if it was a boy who broke my heart.

-(Shared universe? Giovanni is safe. They LOVE Giovanni. Actually, XR is enough of a “sinner” that Millie would think of him as a perfect bad boy, and Tony knows he’s gotta play the gentleman around these two or the Moxxie-bomb will explode. So I think all three of my romantic f/o’s have an in.)

-From the time I was small, both of them were so ready to praise anything I did creatively and mean it. “You drew this? This is beautiful! I’m gonna put this on the fridge!” Now that I’m older, they actually check my fanfiction word count. “THAT’S A WHOLE NOVEL! THAT’S SO GREAT!”

-When I was a child, it took me a LONG time to learn to swear because I thought it was Against the Rules and therefore a very bad thing. Growing up with these two, I would not have had that problem. Baby Rachel’s first word is “Fuck” despite their every attempt to make it “Moxxie”

-Actually, growing up in Hell might be a weirdly good thing for me? Because I could get exposure therapy for my fears and also see that The Rules aren’t all they’re cracked up to be. And this society doesn’t mind if I break a few.

-Basically, I grow up a lot more boisterous than I am now, for better or for worse. Maybe my character arc has to be about softening up enough to keep friends.

-But Moxxie and Millie would be loyal to me even at my loneliest and keep checking in on my emotional state. No way I get a depression spell they don’t notice.

-I feel like they would call me “Our little poison-dart frog!”.

-Also they teach me the art of murder and dismemberment. This is a dark AU. But I can finally exact REVENGE whenever I want REVENGE (note: I WOULD NOT WANT DEADLY REVENGE IRL)

-Blitzo is my weird uncle who Moxxie keeps trying to keep away from me because he thinks he’s being a “creep” but Blitzo means well and ends up taking me out to have some fun hang-out days because we all know he wants a kid of his own too if Loona is any indication

-Also, so long as I’m in VivzieHell, I feel like working concierge at the Happy/Hazbin Hotel would actually be a perfect fit for me so I can actually move OUT of my imp parents’ house? Charlie would need all the help she could get and is the ideal type for one of my BEST FRIENDOS. Also this would allow me to interact with people, get up and get moving daily, work unconventional hours, and be in the one part of Hell where a sense of morality actually matters.

-As for even WEIRDER crossovers...ever since Helluva Boss debuted, I’ve been dying to stick Moxxie/Millie and Nergal/Sis from Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy on a double date (and YES, Nergal would use his fourth wall powers to figure out that Moxxie has his nephew’s voice actor). Like, this is the subject of a whole other post, but you have Millie and Nergal skipping through the oceans of blood together while Sis and Moxxie make sardonic comments about passerby. Anyway, if I can blend these two ‘verses (or do something about giving my Twilight Town s/i to this crew for TBTC), then I get to have Uncle Nergal, Aunt Sis, and Cousin Junior (WE DON’T. TALK. ABOUT MY CRUSH-ON-NERGAL PHASE. HE’S MY FICFAM NOW). And I just love all three of those prospects so much.

I don’t know if I’m going to flesh out a full impverse for myself (anyone got a demon-maker Picrew that will let me have crimson skin and horns on hand?) or if I’m going to find a way to shoehorn this into TBTC with Rachel Inlustris, but right now, I just like imagining that at the end of a hard day, Moxxie comes up beside me, puts an arm around me, and says, “You did so good, little poison-dart frog.”

#ficfam