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allseeinganalyst · 1 year

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Sailor Moon Crystal (Season 1) Review

Let me tell you a story...

The year was 2011 (oh dear gods, that was 12 years ago HELP ME), and this Analyst was but a baby, burgeoning weeb. A mere 17 years old, set to turn 18 in November of that year. I'd just finished high school (grade 10) and was off to complete what my state refers to as college - In reality, years 11-12 of high school, just at a different institution, because I don't know, take it up with the state government.

I was still fairly new to being a weeb - I'd only gotten into anime midway into 2009, and for all that time, I'd had a friend who acted like my "supplier" - Bringing me a 2GB USB stick to school each day, loaded with .RMVB video files of whatever anime he wanted me to watch next. Honestly the setup was a little strange, in retrospect, and he was ODDLY secretive and gatekeepy about it, treating it like this special thing between us and... The more I think about it, the odder it gets but ANYWAY...

That "supplier" friend had since moved away (I shit you not, he was trying to get into a Japanese Exchange Student program, again, I shit you not). So had my best friend. All other friends I had had popped off to another college. I was alone, at a new school, with no friends. It's 2011 - i'm still a year away from meeting the love of my life, what little social life I had is crippled, my closest friend is gone, and the supplier of Japanese-Cartoons-That-Brought-Me-A-LOT-of-Joy-And-Pissed-Off-My-Mum-For-Some-Reason is currently trying to actually transform his life into one of said cartoons, complete with Japanese High School - Again, I am not kidding.

This left your not-so-dashing Analyst with no one to share a fanboy moment with, no one to give him the next show that he could get into, no one to argue about who the Best Girl™ was... Just a single weeb, alone.

This was 2011 - At this point, anime was slowly seeping into the mainstream scene, but we were a long way off the "grade schoolers declaring "My Hero Academia is my comfort show" stage, and where I am is slower than most places at catching up to mainstream pop culture anyway.

I did have a couple of things going for me. I had the websites where my "supplier" had used to download all that fansubbed anime, and I had what I would currently do unholy, unspeakable things to get back... Time.

So what was this Junior Weeb Analyst to do? I cast my mind back to some of the things that led me to get into anime in the first place. I thought back to many, many cartoons on before-school shows like "Cheez TV", that only later did I realize were indeed anime.

And so, with a mindset forming that "to appreciate what we have, we must understand where it came from" (something I still hold as true to this day), I set myself off on what I - melodramatically, but consistently - refereed to as my "tour". I vowed to return to the shows that had led me here, and see them as they were meant to be seen.

(That meant in subtitled Japanese of course - The Sub vs Dub debate was alive and well back in those days, and this idiot analyst was firmly on the "Sub" side. I've grown a lot since then, and also I think that debated ended by mid 2013 as dub quality had MUCH improved. Now most anime I watch is in dub.)

I watched a LOT of shows on that tour. Dragon Ball Z, Cardcaptor Sakura, even a decent hunk of the original Pokemon (in JAPANESE)... And among those shows, and perhaps the one that took me the longest to get through but also left itself with a special place in my heart, I watched Sailor Moon.

I've GOT to get better at cutting to the point during these introductions...

It's funny how, over a decade later, things have a way of repeating in the most unexpected of ways. Of course, I'm not alone anymore - I have a wonderful partner who I met in 2012, and we've been together for all this time. I meet almost weekly for Discord calls with my best friends. I have a full time job and a steady income - Things couldn't be further from the days when I took that "tour" and yet...

As my previous review might have indicated, I've been tackling some personal stuff lately. To say the landscape has changed from those days is like saying that the ocean is damp. Bogged down by negative fandom interactions and a deluge of toxic and ever-prevelant socaial media-fuelled opinions, it's only recently that I've gone: "fuck it, I'm taking a break" - Cutting out a that online loudness left me in a quiet space where for once I could just... Enjoy things again.

So, replacing pirated .RMVB files with Blu-Ray disks, and the chance to really "get into something" again, where did my thoughts to turn? Well, I found myself thinking of that old "tour". And whilst that had been about a return to the path that led me where I was, I decided I wanted to watch something that could represent the present-and-future. And wouldn't you know it, thanks to some advertising for an upcoming movie, I remembered that, sitting on my shelf, buried amongst the "I swear I'll get to this someday" series, was the perfect series for that exact purpose.

A remake of Sailor Moon:

Sailor Moon Crystal

Phew! Okay! We've finally arrived at the actual POINT.

My formative years as a weeb had already left me with a soft spot for Magical Girl anime - You've just read all about my journey to watch Sailor Moon - So when a truer-to-the-manga anime adaptation was released in 2014, of course I knew about it. I recall watching maybe 3-4 episodes of it, in Japanese, before dropping it for reasons I don't recall, but I'm sure made sense at the time. I've always been meaning to get around to it, and seeing that Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon Cosmos The Movie was coming out this year was really a kick in the rear to go and watch the damn show.

As of 04/04/2023, I have now fully completed the first season, and thus, decided to write up my review - I'll state again for anyone that happens to be reading this for some reason (and if you're still with me, congratulations, you made it through my rambling, Granpa Simpson-esqu introduction - Now run because dear god, it doesn't end there, save yourself.) - I write these reviews and thoughts down as a mental health exercise, to put my thoughts somewhere that I can revisit them. I act as though I'm speaking to an audience, but the only real intended reader here is me. Still - if you ARE reading this, I state that these are only my opinions. They're not objective in any way. If you disagree, that's fine, feel free to tell me even, but I'm not out here to change anyone's mind.

Having finally got all that out of the way, lets yell "MOON PRISM POWER, MAKE UP!", change into our Sailor Uniforms and dive into it. Spoilers ahead!

Many smarter, more well known, better read and well respected reviewers and analysts of media have said that a piece of media should be judged on it's own merits, and not compared to previous adaptations, original source material, or other related pieces of media.

That's good, solid advice, which I agree with and am now about to throw out the window, because this review is going to compare Crystal to the original Sailor Moon anime A LOT.

The thing is, I don't think I can be fully fair to Crystal WITHOUT the comparison, and the reason I think that is fairly straightforward:

Sailor Moon Crystal is not intended as someone's first entry into Sailor Moon.

(Again. Purely my opinion. Disagree with me if you like.)

Let me explain:

I am not unfamiliar with Sailor Moon, as you might have guessed. Whilst I have only watched the original anime series (and it's associated movies), I am aware of the original Manga, I'm aware that Crystal is trueER to that text than the first anime, I'm even aware in a cursory capacity of the live action TV and stage shows.

And I think this knowledge is somewhat assumed for viewers heading into Crystal because, without it - It can feel very rushed. See, fans of the Manga have read the manga, they know what happens. So if they're watching it because they want to see a manga adaptation, well, they're heading into it fully armed with that knowledge.

Similarly, a fan of the original anime like myself is most likely watching this because "OOOOH, NEW SAILOR MOON" and it's reputation as being truer to the manga. We're heading into it for the sake of seeing the characters, setting and plots we know and love.

Someone who has no prior knowledge of Sailor Moon would not head into this anime with any of that, and thus, would be caught off guard by it's rapid, almost too fast, pacing, multiple character introductions, lack of characterization and in some cases, no real explanation for a number of things. I would imagine that Crystal would not be an especially incredible, or in some cases, even good experience for that person.

Crystal is for the fans. The fans who know what's coming. In the first three episodes, Crystal rapid-fire introduces characters, not just limited to Usagi/Sailor Moon and Mamoru/Tuxedo Mask. We get Ami/Sailor Mercury in the second episode, Rei/Sailor Mars in the third, a major confrontation with long-standing original anime starter villain Jadite in the fourth, before we're hit with Makoto/Sailor Jupiter in the fifth.

Fans of the original anime will remember that that sequence of events, taking place over five episodes in Crystal, took some 20+ episodes in the original. And between those FOUR major events, we had countless episodes of one-shot characters, monsters, Usagi being a crybaby and refusing to do anything, Rei being a bit of a bitch, Mamoru throwing roses and then leaving because "MY JOB HERE IS DONE!" and Queen Beryl waving her hands ominously over a crystal ball and babbling about "energy" so much that the word starts to sound weird.

For fans of the original anime, we've see that, and everything that involves, both good and bad, is already known to us. We don't want to see that again - Just give us the other Senshi already! We want to see Mercury, and Mars and Jupiter and Venus. We want to see the confrontation with Queen Beryl and Metalia and the showdown in the arctic and Usagi and Mamoru hooking up and all of that stuff, and that is what Crystal delivers, in short order, one event after another. There’s very little “filler” even in the more modern sense of the word (I talked a bit about “filler” in my last review). Basically every scene serves the purpose of advancing the plot to the next “touch point”, which does unfortunately cut out a lot of the less dramatic, but still enjoyable stuff.

Crystal is best taken with prior Sailor Moon knowledge, which means you mentally fill in a lot of gaps that the anime itself would otherwise leave you with. Having virtually no filler means things move almost too fast, and sadly, in that rush, some really great character moments are lost (perhaps most disappointingly, the same-sex relationship between villains Zoisite and Kunzite is completely gone, although as compensation, Crystal does show more of Usagi's bisexual side and hints toward her fleeting crush on Rei - We'll talk more about this later).

To be fair to Crystal, to prevent it being weighed down too heavily by these issues, I will compare it to the original anime, and see how it shakes out when taken with the knowledge that a viewing of the original 200 episodes brings. That’s how I went into the series, and that has an inextricable influence on how I enjoyed it.

Let’s get this out of the way…

Crystal is not as pretty as the original anime.

It’s not even remotely close.

I hate to start by criticizing Crystal right off the bat, but it has to be said.

The original Sailor Moon anime was produced in 1992. It was made at a time before the widespread use of CGI and digital colouring. It’s an adaptation of a Shojo manga, and was primarily drawn, coloured and animated by hand. It’s pretty, soft, girly and pastel and HOLY FUCK IS IT BEAUTIFUL.

Look at this.

Like, god-the-fuck damn it. Look at these.

Look at that last one (side note, what the hell are you doing Mamoru?). If you were to remove Usagi and Tuxedo Mask from the image, you'd be left with something I've seen tagged on tumblr as "Pastel Liminal". There are plenty more. In fact, I could just whack in one of my DVD's of the original anime, set my computer to screenshot at random intervals, and you'd see nearly infinite examples.

The original Sailor Moon anime was lightning in a bottle. It was produced at a time where things were produced by more analog means for the most part. It was adapting a source material that already had a gentle, soft and pastel theme to it. It's drenched in the fashion and style of the early 90's/Late 80's. All of these factors combine to create a piece of media where the best examples look like genuine works of art, and even the worst, most off model in between frames still carry a unique, warm and nostalgic charm.

I don't think it's a coincidence that the visuals of Vaporwave - a musical genre built on evoking feelings of nostalgia and popular culture - share much of the same color pallet as any random episode of '92 Sailor Moon. I think there's something unique about pink pastels, soft coloring and imagery from the 80's/90's. And people have noticed this. The feelings of liminality and atmosphere are present all throughout Sailor Moon - To an even greater degree than things like The Simpsons.

There are enough screencaps of Sailor Moon on people's

A E S T H E T I C

blogs on pinterest and tumblr and the-horror-site-that-I-escaped-and-will-not-name that if we combined them all together, I honestly believe we could recreate whole episodes of the anime.

NOW LET'S LOOK AT SOME SCREENSHOTS FROM CRYSTAL.

Now. Not a single one of these is BAD. I actually avoided any screencaps that were off model or "QUALITY.MEME" style or anything. They are crisp, clean, vibrant... And not especially distinct from any other anime of today.

(And yes I'm aware that much of the same argument could be said for multiple older anime vs new anime, that's not the point I am making.)

Look at the backgrounds. Compare them to the original anime. Neither is bad, but you can not deny that the original is dripping in that "Aesthetic", and it always will be, whilst Crystal will always just be "yeah, decent 2010's anime". In 20 years from now, there won't be any more blogs devoted to Crystal's aesthetic than there are for any other anime, and to a degree that kinda sucks.

Does it detract from the experience? Not really - But the comparison has to be made. Plenty of people watch Sailor Moon these days for it's retro-nostalgic vibes and if that's what you're looking for, those are not present in Crystal.

And...Yeah the Cell-Shaded CGI. I don't actually really mind it - I quite like cell-shaded CGI - but it sure is a bummer to see the Transformation sequence use that. Of all the time they could have used it, they chose to use it on the iconic transformation scenes.

Hand drawn animation isn't the only thing that's missing from some of the most important scenes. Let's talk about the soundtrack.

I'm not musically talented, so I'm not inclined to talk about music too much. It's not that I don't enjoy it, but I don't feel qualified to say too many things about it.

(I'm not artistically talented either, but for over a decade, I have been in a serious relationship with a very talented artist who lives in the same house as me, so I picked up a few things and feel that I can at least offer an opinion on the art)

To save me repeating myself, I'll just say that the soundtrack to the original '92 anime is almost as iconic as it's art. The upbeat guitars and violins and trumpets and pianos and god-knows-what else that played throughout that series are a big part of it's identity.

Crystal does have it's own musical identity. It's a bit... blander in parts...

(there's this one recurring piece that tends to play during epic or emotional moments that, thanks to my oh-so-wonderful partner, I can't hear as anything other than that awful "Where are you Christmas" meme song).

But other times it does suitably convey majesty and grandeur to the scene's its playing over. The transformations may lack the rock-styled guitars of the original, but they have this new piece that sounds very magical and epic for Sailor Moon, and for the other senshi, they actually do bring back in the harder beats. Sailor Mars' first transformation goes particularly hard.

There's another piece of music I just have to talk about

The opening theme, "Moon Pride" is a fantastic piece of music, with some great visuals included. I particularly like how it's not only partially sung as if "in character" by the bands members as the Sailor Senshi, (I originally thought it was the senshi's Japanese VAs, but apparently not) but certain lyrics carry a specific "flavor" relating to that senshi - "Jupiter" and "Venus" singing lines about how "Love hits like a flash of lightning".

The tune and lyrics are extremely upbeat as well, singing of the power of girls ("girl power" being something that's extremely important to Sailor Moon) and how they have the power to accomplish their goals. It even incorporates the "Make Up!" phrase used by the senshi in their transformation, and ends on "La La Pretty Guardian SAILOR MOON" - A line that sounds clumsy when I write it down, but really does work in sung form (plus, I will always give props to a show incorporating it's title into the lyrics).

It's such a great song. It's a great opening visually too - Lots of wonderfully arch typically "anime opening" stereotypes in all the right ways, like Queen Beryl gesturing menacingly while the Four Heavenly Kings whiz in to pose with her and the specter of Queen Metalia rising up behind them...

It's honestly fantastic and a great choice for the series.

It's too bad I hate it.

It's not the fault of the song. It's just impossible for it to stack up against Moonlight Densetsu.

This is why we shouldn't compare things so directly, because shit like this happens.

Moonlight Densetsu (or, Moonlight Legend translated into English) is an iconic piece of anime music in it's own right, and it's connection to Sailor Moon is inseparable. Go ahead, go look it up. You want to, now that I've mentioned it. Better yet, I'll save you the trouble. Go on and listen to those iconic chimes at the opening before the guitar and the piano kick in....

youtube

Even the original english dub, with as many nonsense changes as it made, and at a time where it was common to record a whole new song for dubbed a anime's OP, kept the actual tune and music - It just replaced the lyrics (with very catchy, if somewhat inaccurate ones I might add... "Never running from a real fight"...)

And of course, the Japanese lyrics - evocative of a love song between Usagi and Mamoru - are catchy, charming and beautiful, evoking that same feeling as the anime's visuals provide. That tone, that aesthetic, and these days, that nostalgia. But it doesn't end at just the Japanese version...

The funny thing is, that even in today's day and age, with access to dubs of equal, if not superior quality to the original language, and most opening themes left untouched... if you start this tune up at any convention, you'll probably every weeb in hearing radius chime in with:

"~Fighting evil by moonlight~!"

Those english lyrics are just as iconic as their Japanese originators. The same opening theme, done two different ways, completely iconic in both the East and West parts of the world.

In preparation for writing this bit of the post, I asked myself to find the most iconic anime openings. The kind that everyone can sing along to at a convention. I found plenty - so I asked myself, what's one that everyone can sing along to in both English and Japanese.

See, everyone can jump in for something like the opening for "Attack on Titan" or frantically try to dance along to Motteke Sailor Fuku (Lucky Star's intensely energetic opening theme) for Japanese songs, and almost anyone past a certain age on the street can probably sing along to the absolutely legendary english opening for the original Pokemon anime...

But there's probably only one opening I know where everyone is able to get on the same tune, singing about the same show, in the same way in both English and Japanese.

And that's Moonlight Densetsu.

A remake is a remake, and it shouldn't need to rely on nostalgia, or try to win points by including whats already been done.

But there's an exception to every rule and god-damn should Crystal have used that piece of music.

It didn't even have to be the opening. Play it in the background as Usagi vanquishes Queen Metalia.

It's SO iconic to Sailor Moon that nothing, not even Moon Pride could replace it.

The fact that Crystal doesn't use Moonlight Densetsu genuinely detracts from the experience for me. It doesn't ruin it, but it's definitely a missed opportunity. I've heard they've so far not used it, and my fingers are crossed they'll work it into the finale movies somehow, because I would just love to hear it one more time in a modern context.

Alright - I feel I've rambled enough on the negatives. By now, I've made it clear... Crystal is not a replacement for the original '92 anime.

Lets talk about what it does get right.

If I've sounded negative up till now, it's only because I genuinely have a lot of love for Sailor Moon that I almost hold it to a higher standard than a lot of other anime series. If this were a remake of almost any other 90's anime, I wouldn't have that much to say - either for or against. I've fallen into the trap before where people think I hate something because I've been talking for 100 years about its flaws and missteps and I have to explain that no wait, this is actually one of my favorite things...

I've always been the kind of guy that takes a very deep interest in what I love. Goes with the autism I suppose. When you look into something that deeply, you see its flaws as clearly as you see its merits, and quite often, the flaws are easier to talk about.

I could talk about the flaws in the original Sailor Moon anime too. I could talk about how it's got 200 episodes, and yet, I think a count exists where only 50ish of those episodes are plot relevant, and a further 10-or-so of those could be whittled down to "X got a new power up/attack/transformation"

I could talk about how the anime relied on stock footage to absurd levels, fights often coming down to watching the same animations a couple of times before they play the usual stock "Usagi defeats/purifies/vaporizes/love-bombs the bad guy" clip.

I could talk about how, when you have to stretch some fairly straightforward characters out over that many episodes, you wind up pulling out a lot more of those characters negative traits for the sake of inventing some kind of drama to drive some kind of plot along, in the worst cases making some characters borderline unlikable.

Or, I could talk about how Crystal AVOIDS those problems like the fucking plague.

Well. Not all of them, obviously. But it is here, in the character department we see our first marked improvement.

While the rapid pace of Crystal does leave some characters in the dust - a lot of them on the villain side of things - one thing it does help with is there's no need to invent "drama of the week" between the girls. There's no need to have Usagi and Rei bitching at each other because the boy-of-the-episode isn't paying them attention or to cram in a "someone's got a crush on X, and the other Senshi are going to spy and stick their nose in her business because OOOOOH ROMANCE". There's no need for a weird, shitty subplot where Rei dates Mamoru.

While the characters don't feel as fleshed out as in the original, that actually works when you see their relationships. They first form a friend group based on their shared destiny, and then, once they recover their past-life memories, solidify their bonds based on that.

And you can call this cheep and lazy, and maybe it is, but I can't help but think that it just WORKS for them. When the original had so much bickering and insults without showing as many moments of genuine care between the Senshi, it's just damn refreshing to see them unambiguously care so much for one-another. I know they did in the original too, but here, it's so much faster and tighter that it really comes off better.

To varying degrees, all of the Senshi are affected by this "tighter" (or perhaps "faster") pacing, but none more so than the titular character herself, Sailor Moon. AKA, the klutzy crybaby, Usagi Tsukino.

Usagi is a character that is very much the face of the series in every conceivable way. Aside from being the titular Sailor Moon, her visual appearance is iconic, to the point that even non-anime fans could probably identify her as "Sailor Moon" if you show them a picture, and even today, as the older generations of anime fans and weebs are replaced by a whole new breed of both dedicated and casual fans, most of them will still know who Usagi is. Her iconic "odango" (Bun/Dumpling) hairstyle is still homaged and parodied today, even in western cartoons:

(I'll spare you my endless rants on Star vs The Forces of Evil...)

Usagi's characterization is similarly iconic, helped by the fact that she herself narrates the opening to many of the numerous episodes of the original series with an honest description of herself. The translation varies from fansubs to the modern official dub, but the gist of it is always:

"I’m Usagi Tsukino and I’m a 14 year old middle school student. I’m a bit of a klutz… and kind of a crybaby. One day, a cat named Luna gave me a special brooch that transformed me into a guardian in a sailor uniform and told me I had to fight bad guys! Boy, does that ever make me nervous. But, I’m sure it will all work out fine!"

Right off the bat, this establishes Usagi's personality. She's emotional, ditzy, but optimistic. Over the course of all the series it's established firmly and consistently that she's a dreamer and an utterly hopeless romantic. She gets bad grades, overindulges in food and sweets, doesn't study, but also has an overflowing amount of love for just about everyone, especially her friends, and her kind-heartedness is always centered.

Thing is, with the original '92 anime being 200 episodes long, with a lot of those being filler, where they needed to have a plot driven by characters without being allowed to do anything to drastically change those characters, they needed to fall back on Usagi's basic characterization for day-to-day episodes. There are a LOT of scenes of her just being kind of....

Well, I don't want to say "useless" but...

Usagi's slacker tendencies were highlighted, along with her selfishness and hedonism. She'll drag her friends along to things they don't want to do, borrow their stuff, and is generally kind of treated with a sense of being a load by them a lot of the time. All of these are consistent traits across all adaptations, but the '92 anime practically spotlights them. She often needs to be coerced or pressured into actually transforming into Sailor Moon and doing something, and even when she did, she more often-than-not relied on a well timed rose from Tuxedo Mask and an attack from another Senshi before she broke out the finishing move. In my younger days, when I attended more conventions and hung around with other anime fans, it was pretty common for them to express a kind of distaste for her as a heroine.

It's not that the original anime didn't have it's moments of highlighting that, y'know, Usagi is a true all-loving heroine with determination, dedication and a love for her friends that would net her the most dramatic power up scenes if the show were a Shounen anime, but they tended to be reserved for the plot relevant episodes, and as mentioned, the original anime is 3/4ths filler, so we get a lot of selfish, crybaby Usagi.

Crystal, on the other hand, moves at a speed so intense that only astronauts trained in special machines by NASA can withstand the sheer g-force it generates. Seriously, it feels like the plot took a leaf out of Usagi's book and overslept, forcing it to charge forward like:

This does something interesting to Usagi as a character. While we're shown enough of her at school to know that, yes, she gets bad grades, scores awfully on tests, and is an absent minded klutz who'd rather slack off and visit the arcade than do anything related to actual school, it also shows Usagi:

Genuinely reaching out to Ami and befriending her, wanting to bring her out of her shell and let the overworked girl have some fun.

Defending Rei from some women who are blaming her for circumstances beyond her control. (Crystal also famously restores the scene where they meet because Usagi follows her off the bus, hearts in her eyes and all. Usagi's implied bisexuality is restored and it's obvious she's got some kind of crush on Rei.)

Complimenting Makoto on basically everything: her cooking, earrings and her perfume, giving the girl a much needed ego boost.

Borderline worshiping Minako (as Sailor V) and then genuinely looking up to her once she meets her as Sailor Venus.

(Also. this is just fanboy bullshit, but Crystal makes Sailor Venus' transformation use ribbons, much like Usagi's, and given that Venus outright states she's the original leader of the Senshi, and her "in the name of Venus" speach sounds very similar to Usagi's "in the name of the moon" spiel, I like to believe that Usagi is subconsciously basing her Sailor Moon act on the memories she has of her former guardian.)

The result is that Usagi's friendship with the other senshi feels very genuine. They do a little teasing of her, of course, but are also extremely loving toward her, a feeling that only grows as they regain their past memories and remember her both as their sacred Princess and their middle-school friend. There's a very sweet scene where they all sit around her and help her fix her hair up, stuff that really shows that these girls are true companions and a proper team, not a misfit group of conflicting personalities.

There's also a scene toward the very end where, after Sailor Moon is compromised in the final battle, all of the Senshi draw the strength to keep fighting to the bitter end by remembering Usagi, which is punctuated by actual clips of things she's said to them. It's a bit clumsy (Jupiter's memory is the scene of Usagi talking about her earrings and perfume...) but the fact that it is all footage we've seen before makes it believable.

She's also far more proactive and direct. While she does wail and cry a couple of times at the monsters, other times she actually just swallows her fear and charges forward to save her friends. There's an incredible moment where, confronted by a group of zombified people, without so much as a single "SAVE ME, TUXEDO MASK!", Usagi transforms and purifies all of the zombies with her finisher, before actively moving to seek out the source of the the corruption. It's an awesome moment.

Her moments of "uselessness" in battle are also given a facelift. Given that Mamoru/Tuxedo Mask himself is far more active and involved in battles. Instead of crying out of fear and cowidance, Usagi is usually taken out of the fight by her hopeless romantic nature being taken advantage of. She's either hit with some revelation or otherwise emotionally compromised. Usually by putting Tuxedo Mask/Mamoru in danger.

Indeed, Crystal really emphasis Usagi's emotions in a way that makes her feel very fragile and vulnerable at times. She's instantly taken with Tuxedo Mask, and when she later uncovers his identity (or rather, he reveals it to her), she becomes caught up in their love, to the point where, once he's taken from her by the Dark Kingdom, she struggles to fight back against him. There's many scenes where it's simply those two, and although they don't fight, they don't need to, because the act of seeing her true love (and the anime establishes very quickly that yes, Mamoru is her true, destined lover) on a side that isn't hers is enough to paralyze her. On the other side of that coin, when he's not in opposition to her, Usagi really doesn't let anything slow her down, and genuinely is ready to get into a fight for the sake of bringing Mamoru back.

The ending, which finally puts them back on the same side, allows him to be her emotional support as she battles it out with Queen Metalia in the final confrontation, again plays up Usagi's emotions, this time drawing strength from her love for Mamoru and her friends, allowing her to finally banish the evil. It's not dissimilar to how the original series ended it's first season - Although the fact that we do see scenes of the Earth being reduced to chaos and nothingness by Queen Metalia does make a very interesting backdrop.

i feel like I'm rambling here, so I want to sum it up - Crystal manages to make Usagi a far more proactive and engaging force in the narrative, without taking away the "crybaby and a klutz" part of her. The focus on her vulnerability shows why she needs her friends and her love, but on the other hand, we're also shown that, when she does have that, there's not a lot she can't do, and she more than possesses the strength to take action.

As for the others...

Like I said, everyone fares a bit differently. I've ranted a bit too long about Usagi because, in my opinion, she's the one who mostly gained good things out of the pacing, losing a lot of what she was commonly derided for in the original setting, but the other characters are slightly more of a mixed bag.

My bishie boy Mamoru/Tuxedo Mask get a lot more to do very quickly, compared to the original series. His search for the Legendary Silver Crystal™ is mentioned a lot, and he kicks off one episodes problems by declaring it publicly. His identity is also not really kept a secret, and we're shown Mamoru wearing the tux on many occasions without the cape, hat or mask.

His relationship with Usagi is... Well, it's there. Because of the compressed nature of the series, he runs into Usagi a fair bit less than he did in the original, and thus a lot of their banter is gone. While Usagi falls for him very quickly, he's at least shown to care about her, and once their identities are revealed and they start to recover their past lives memories, they do feel very in love.' Because of the compressed nature of the series, he runs into Usagi a fair bit less than he did in the original, and thus a lot of their banter is gone. While Usagi falls for him very quickly, he's at least shown to care about her, and once their identities are revealed and they start to recover their past lives memories, they do feel very in love. The few times we get to see them together outside of them being in mortal peril are very sweet.

(I know their relationship has always been... controversial, so I won't dwell too much on it. These type of things are fairly common for anime in general, so it's something you need to just accept if you plan on watching a lot of it)

He does seem to take on the "useless" traits that Usagi lost though. My boy here borders on being a full on damsel in distress sometimes. His rose throwing was corny in the original anime, but it was usually effective. Here, there's not a rose in sight, leaving him either as an observer, or as normal, albiet sharply dressed, man who's quite out of his depth against monsters... BUT as an unabashed and unashamed lover of Damsels in Distress, I hardly mind that.

Sailor Mercury/Ami is one of the ones who got more of the short end of the stick from the pacing and rapid nature of the show. She's established, as per usual, as the super smart genius with some genuinely sweet moments of Usagi helping her out of her shell. However, because the show introduces the other senshi so rapidly, she rarely gets a chance to stand out with her genius. She does smart-stuff, sure, we always see her on the computer and the like, but rarely do we actually see her express that genius in any way other than pinpointing an enemy's weakness by scanning it with her goggles or something. Granted she did a lot of that in the '92 anime too, but at least then there were episodes that showed her studying or taking tests and a couple of times where she needed to use her intelligence against the monster of the week.

It's not like the show "does her dirty" or anything, Mercury has always failed to stand out compared to the others, owing to her more down-to-earth personality and seriousness, in both the '92 series and Crystal. Part of that in both instances is because after we meet her we're very quickly (or in Crystal's case, immediately) introduced to...

Sailor Mars/Rei has always been a tad on the polarizing side. She either tends to be a fan's favorite or they hate her outright. Rei is fiery and outspoken, and in my opinion, after Usagi, she's the one who benefits the most from Crystal's fast pacing.

The '92 anime had Rei as far more confrontational and borderline bitchy. She clashed with Usagi so much, outright challenging her leadership at least once, that it was hard to believe they were friends. Although she did always come through for Usagi at the end, the status quo meant she'd be right back to digging at her the next episode.

Crystal has Rei instead under immense pressure right from the start, justifying her stand-offish behavior, and has Usagi defend her from a group of mothers who wanted to blame a number of disappearances on Rei's psychic power, after which Rei becomes very open to her. She's still serious, and she still gets one-or-two digs in at Usagi being a lazy glutton, but she comes across as far friendlier. Her psychic powers mean she takes to being a Sailor Senshi pretty much straight away, and she's usually the one to go on the offensive in battles. While that "mean-streak" gave her a notable characterization in the original series, here we get to see a kinder, and gentler side to her. She gets plenty of dialogue that indicates she's taking the job seriously, but also that she wants whats best for Usagi. It's a sharp contrast to the girl that tried to steal her boyfriend in the original series.

(Speaking of, considering the series restores her semi-crush on Rei, you have to wonder if Usagi's type is just "dark haired, vaguely mysterious and teases me on occasion")

Jupiter is pretty "middle of the road" here. Crystal takes away her recurring joke of comparing every boy to her "sempai", but it doesn't really add anything more to her character. We get to see more of how, despite being big and strong, she's quite feminine, but beyond that, she doesn't really do anything to make herself stand out. Her character here is neither an improvement, nor a deterioration.

Honestly, Jupiter was one of my favourites in the original, so I really thought I'd have more to say, but I just don't. She's fine.

Sailor Venus/Minako has the unfortunate title of being the final Senshi introduced formally (No. We're not counting her appearances as Sailor V. This post is too long already for me to talk about that). As a result she gets... very little time to shine as a character. Minako especially loses all of her quirks and goofy traits from the original, though we do get to see something else as a result. She's very rarely seen doing anything other than her duties as a Sailor Guardian. Compared to the other senshi, this means that it comes off less as Minako transforming into Sailor Venus to fight evil, and more as Sailor Venus disguising herself as Minako. She explicitly has most of her memories restored right from when we meet her, and thus fully embraces the role of "Leader of the Sailor Guardians", knowing more about their enemy than the others, and helping them along with revelations.

Also - there's this beyond-stupid bit where she claims she's the Moon Princess for an episode or so... It's vaguely implied to be a bluff (for some reason), but even so, it's fantastically stupid and accomplishes very little.

(Not going to talk about the cats or other more minor characters because... well quite frankly this post has gone on for way too long already)

Finally that brings us to the villains.

Yeah look... Fans of the original portrayal of the Four Heavenly Kings are out of luck here.

The '92 anime had a habit of using one king at a time to unleash some monsters, but baring Jadite, all of them developed some pretty distinctive personalities in that time. From Nephrite's arc of falling in love with a human, to Zoisite and Kunsite's explicitly gay and genuinely affectionate relationship, 3 out of 4 of them got pretty memorable scenes and personalities.

Not so for Crystal...

*sigh*

Yeah, all of them are pretty generically "evil" in this version. They really, really do not stand apart from each other.

It's all the more disappointing as this series goes with the "each king is the destined lover of one of the Sailor Guardians" idea that has been around for a while. I'm not sure if this was ever in the original manga, but it's been something that's been known to fans for basically forever.

Sadly though, the anime does very little with that. Honestly, it's only worth mentioning because in this version, the senshi are able to turn them back to the side of good... after which time Queen Beryl/Metalia destroys them and they turn into the little gems they're named after as if they're straight out of fucking Steven Universe.

I know the limited episode count and nature of being truer to the Manga wouldn't allow anything like the original anime, but would it have killed them to show Kunsite and Zoisite with their arms around each other? Or better yet, if they wanted to do the "destined to be with the Sailor Senshi" thing, give us some one on one scenes with each pair?

Queen Beryl does get a bit more character though. (Hence why I used her picture up there). We get to see flashes of her past, as a princess of earth, hopelessly in love with Endymion, and is actually the one who tried to strike down both him and Princess Serenity in the past. She also has plans to pull a Starscream on Queen Metalia, and goes into battle herself a couple of times. It's a consolation prize for the disappointing turnout of the four kings.

OVERALL

This review has really gotten out of hand. I feel like I spent too long talking about the original series and the blundered onto the Crystal stuff really haphazardly.

To wrap it up, I'll repeat that I don't believe Sailor Moon Crystal should be anyone's first introduction to Sailor Moon. It needs to be approached with prior knowledge and familiarity, lest a lot of what makes the series special feel instead rushed and half-baked. Because, that really is what makes a lot of it good, at least to me. Seeing things happen at a faster pace, with a lot of the unpleasant aspects of characters removed is a breath of fresh air when your standard experience amounted to over 100 episodes of filler.

It's a good show. It's a fun show. It's a show that I, as a fan of Sailor Moon, enjoyed...

...And despite the length of this review, it's one I can't really give an opinion on yet because you see... Unlike the original, there is no filler arc about a tree and the aliens who want it to grow. Season 1 of Crystal ends with Rei receiving a premonition of a black, upside down crescent moon, and a mysterious pink haired child falling out of the sky..

As of writing, I am over halfway through "season 2", which has both countered and enhanced some of my above points, so I want to stop there before I say too much more. I'm going to try and review each "season" on its own.

I suspect from here on in, given that I've said my piece about how it compares to the original, the next reviews shall be a bit shorter, or at the very least, will have less of me rambling about how not using Moonlight Densetsu is a crime against nature.

Either way, if you have stuck with me, or read this entire post for whatever reason, regardless of whether you agree or disagree with me, I'd like to thank you for taking the time. I feel good having gotten this all off my chest, and I look forward to writing up another one.

But now, I must go!

The Analyst has vanished in a swish of his cape, leaving behind nothing but a single rose.

#sailor moon #sailor moon crystal #sailor suit #anime #manga #sailor venus #sailor mars #sailor mercury #sailor jupiter #usagi tsukino #Usagi #moonlight densetsu #REVIEW #OPINION #magical girl anime

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gwopijon · 28 days

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ONE MONDAY MORNING IN 2022, LSU players arrived at the basketball facility and were greeted with an unusual directive: Turn off your phones and put them in the other room. Mulkey went ballistic. Days earlier, two LSU players had gotten into a fight. Teammates got between them, but the two kept at it, with spit flying and glass thrown. The scene had unfolded in front of a group of visiting recruits. “My regret in this life,” one of the people present says, “I didn’t record this meeting.” That was impossible, though, because at Baylor and now at LSU, former players say, staffers sometimes mitigated the risk of Mulkey’s tirades being recorded by barring phones from the room. (Mulkey’s attorneys did not address this incident in their responses to The Post.) It had been a tense year already. Earlier in 2022, Griner, now starring for the Phoenix Mercury, was detained at an airport in Russia, where, like many WNBA players, she supplemented her earnings by playing overseas. Officials claimed she had vape cartridges containing hashish oil in her luggage. WNBA players wore Griner’s No. 42 during the All-Star Game, and Seattle Storm player Sue Bird pleaded for Griner to be released. NBA star Stephen Curry spoke out in support of Griner, and President Biden signed an executive order threatening sanctions on any government that wrongfully detained Americans. It was as if everyone was discussing Griner’s plight. Everyone, that is, except Griner’s college coach. “And you won’t,” Mulkey shot back at a reporter who said he hadn’t seen her comment on the situation. Whatever the root of their beef, it had intensified enough that Mulkey would rarely say Griner’s name. She made an exception in June 2022, when Mulkey appeared on the “Tiger Rag” radio show. “I pray for Brittney,” Mulkey said. “I want her home safely. I think there’s lots of people speaking out on her behalf, and those of us who don’t necessarily speak publicly about it certainly are praying for her.” Still, former LSU players say, those within the program had learned to avoid mentioning Griner or interacting with social media posts that supported the detained player. Even in the tightknit coaching community, a frequent discussion topic was Mulkey’s unwillingness to look beyond a grudge. “I really was hoping that Kim would make a statement. Really hoping she would,” says DeMoss, the former Louisiana Tech player and longtime coach who adds that she considers Mulkey a friend. “You’ve got a kid that’s stuck in Russia; I mean, that’s bigger than any feud that y’all had. No one knew how long they were going to detain her over there. “We were all hoping [Mulkey] could just rise above it for that moment. Just get her back home. But she didn’t.” Through her attorneys, Mulkey rebutted any suggestion that she failed to support Griner. In December 2022, after nearly a year in prison, Griner was released and returned to the United States in a prisoner exchange. The basketball community expressed relief and joy, and reactions — not all supportive, considering the exchange freed a notorious Russian arms dealer — poured out from both sides of the political aisle. Mulkey issued a brief statement to ESPN: “God is good. Prayers are powerful. Brittney is on the way home where she belongs. Our prayers remain with her and her family as they recover and heal together.” Three months later, after Mulkey reached her fifth Final Four, a reporter asked whether Mulkey had spoken with Griner. She hadn’t. Four days later, Mulkey, in a pink- and gold-sequined jacket, cut down the net and held up a newspaper with Reese pictured and CHAMPS! in massive letters. Even among some of Mulkey’s ex-players, the enthusiasm was muted. “As a head coach, you’re responsible for so many people; you’re taking on a role that leaves a very lasting impression,” a former Baylor player says. “You might be able to win us a championship, but are people going to want to come back and see you?”

#kim mulkey

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creativemorningswinnipeg · 5 months

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Join us at 8:15am on Friday, December 15th at CreativeMornings Winnipeg to explore the global theme of Pain with our guest speaker Hannah Pratt. We are gathering at the beautiful Roundhouse Auditorium at RRC Polytech's newest building Manitou a bi Bii Dazigae in the Exchange District.

** ASL Interpretation is available at all of our events!**

The Paradox of Pain: Transforming Struggles into Creative Potential

The most heartbreaking moments of our lives are when we experience grief, loss, and pain.

In these struggles, it can feel impossible to imagine a world beyond them- never mind accepting that through them, we could find meaning, develop creativity, or transform into a more profound version of ourselves.

The journey through grief and pain is complex, with 'Finding Meaning' recognized as its crucial, final stage. In this sixth stage of healing, we can begin to evolve, transforming our pain into something unexpectedly powerful: creativity.

In this month’s talk, Hannah Pratt leads us through a discussion on the Paradox of Pain: Transforming Struggles into Creative Potential by sharing her experiences with grief and loss to find meaning and creative potential while healing.

From personal tragedy to mental health struggles to an award-winning career as a communicator, Hannah will share how pain has led to some of her life's most profound and beautiful experiences.

Together, we’ll work through this counterintuitive concept of pain as a conduit: what it teaches us, how we can heal through creative expression, and connect in a conversation about the heartbreakingly beautiful experience of being human.

Meet our Speaker: Hannah Pratt

Hannah Pratt is an award-winning communicator and strategy consultant, educator, speaker, community leader, host of the Yes You Can podcast, and Founder of the WPG Dress Collective. From leadership roles with the Winnipeg Blue Bombers to the University of Manitoba, Hannah has been a transformative force in launching campaigns that impact the world. As the owner of Hannah Rose PR, Hannah works with non-profit organizations, entrepreneurs, and small businesses to generate more money, create ground-breaking partnerships, and share their impact through PR and visibility strategies. Hannah holds a Master's in Philanthropy & Nonprofit Leadership from Carleton University, a diploma in Creative Communications from Red River College Polytech, and a Bachelor of Arts from Canadian Mennonite University. She recently joined her alma mater (RRC Polytech) as a part-time instructor in the CreComm and Communication Management programs. Hannah is the recipient of the 2018 Manitoba Communicator of the Year Award and the 2019 Future Leaders of Manitoba in her age category.

December CreativeMornings theme: PAIN

Our global theme for December is PAIN. It was chosen by our Lviv chapter and illustrated by Marta Koshulinska.

Ouch! That hurts. Pain is a warning. And a lesson. It teaches us what we should avoid. And just how much we can bear.

Muscles grow stronger after exercise tears the tiny fibers of muscle cells and the body repairs those damaged fibers. We know that physical wounds can heal with time and proper care. But we often ignore the fact that emotional pain can too.

If you need a little relief from whatever pain you’re carrying, talk to someone, make something, or help someone else in need.

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hansolmates · 3 years

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shiver | 01 (m)

banner done by the wonderful @dnrequests

summary; jungkook changed since he moved out of his small town church community and attended college. when he returns for a christmas mass, you suddenly crave a taste of his fun and carefree life. in exchange, jungkook craves a taste of you pairing; bad boy!jungkook x church girl!reader genre/warnings; childhood friends to lovers, brief childhood friends to enemies, fwb!au, catholic guilt, jungkook is a meanie who eventually turns into a soft tsundere, bicuriosity, sexual exploration, virgin!oc, eventual smut—in this installment: touching over the clothes, mc is hornee, *pulls out cards against humanity* “a gentle caress of the inner thigh”, panty kissin, mc is a big ol’ pushover and hopeful for jkk:(( w/c; 1.9k a/n; it’s here! aaaaaa!!! i’ve been really eally realllyyyyyy nervous to post this. even though this is just a drabble series let me know how you feel about it! enjoy [shiver masterpost]

“Oh, you’re so dead.”

Jeon Jungkook isn’t thaaaat buff, he's more of a skinny kind of muscular. You don’t understand the hype, why everyone croons over Jungkook’s strength and physique. However, how else could you explain Jungkook being able to climb the currently dilapidated fire escape to the top floor of the chapel. The ladder is rusted beyond repair and is definitely a fire hazard rather than a fire escape. Yet he barely breaks a sweat doing it, and he wipes the minor sheen off his brow with the back of his hand. There’s some soot and whatever nasty residue from the fire escape that gets on his face, a black streak marring his already annoying face. He’s currently wiggling his fingers in a sarcastic “hello.” It makes you sneer, your two consciousness (inappropriate and appropriate) warring against each other to determine whether you still find this man attractive or not.

Convincing yourself that Jungkook is ugly is the worst quick-fix idea you’ve ever had.

The words of your Aunties, the family friends in the church, echo in your ears. Jungkook’s bad. They’d say over and over. It would cause you to snort and giggle, unable to imagine what sort of things he’s done to warrant such a cliché label. Yet some of the girls your age, girls that have gone off to college agree with sultry looks and longing eyes that yes, Jungkook’s bad. So bad, it’s good.

You haven’t a clue what he’s actually done to earn such a hushed title, his parents are lip-tight about his doings, unless it’s his achievements in the architecture graduate program. You hear things, though. Things that make you shamefully green with envy, envious of sin.

As soon as he finds proper footing in the storage room, he goes to the closet, immediately finding his backup clothes. They’re plain white button-downs, awkward long shirts with no shape or definition to them. They belong to the church, and no one ever uses them because they’re stiff and itchy. Yet Jungkook wears them like it’s tailored, and you have to look away when he quickly knots the bottom half of the shirt, fashioning it into a tasteful double knot in order to cinch his lean waist.

“Pretty sure it was just you that saw me,” Jungkook says dismissively, “so it’s fine.”

This bristles you the wrong way, and you put down the catering covers you were supposed to return to the storage room. You smooth out your Sunday dress, this shade of Boring Beige looking particularly pale in the morning sun. “How do you know I won’t tell?” you turn your nose up.

“Because I know,” he doesn’t even look at you, focusing on rolling the sleeves of his shirt. You weaken when you see the black shadowing across his forearm. That’s new, then again you haven’t seen him since last Christmas.

“Know what?”

“That you have a crush on me,” Jungkook says into the air like it’s common knowledge, adjusting the leather jacket on top of his outfit so the white-startched collar pops on top, “I mean, it’s hard for anyone not to know. You’ve been into me since youth group, Bunny.”

You hold your breath, counting to ten as you close the door behind you. A vision of you playing “Duck Duck Goose” as a five year old plays in your head, where you’d pick a bushy, big-eyed Jeon Jungkook each time, hopping over to him to pat his fluffy head so he’d chase you around.

It’s old news, your puppy love for Jungkook. How could you not like him? He's clever and sweet with his mother and always told the best stories in youth group meetings. Everyone thought your affections were so sweet, and while that attention weaned over time, your feelings have only increased the more self-aware you’ve become.

With a mind as open and honest is yours, it’s hard to ignore how well Jungkook has grown. What has also grown is your curiosities since the two of you have moved onto university. Jungkook goes to the university uptown, a far drive which only forces him attend masses during the holidays. You attended the local community college, wrapping up a bachelors in some vague major that you’re not attached to. You’re currently looking around for some graduate schools, but unfortunately you’ve been so wrapped up doing duties for Pastor Nina that you haven’t been able to look around properly.

Jungkook’s probably living a fun life, with the way he’s grown rough and loose, you resent him.

When you turn back around, Jungkook’s right in front of you, trapping you between his body and the door.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Bunny,” you furrow your brows, nearly growing cross-eyed when he leans in. “I think your crush is cute.”

You’re not sure what he thinks of you. Sure, he considered everyone a friend when you two were in youth group, but that was youth group. Premeditated, parents forcing other children to do the same things with each other for years upon years in the hope they’ll practice together forever and ever. Jungkook did not want that, evident from the way he dipped his duties as soon as he got into university.

You hate how easy he dips back into it though, calling you Bunny and making you feel like a little girl all over again. Bunny, because you’d hop around to him whenever he was in sight. Bunny, because Jungkook had been fondly compared to the wide-eyed, diamond-toothed creature. It was cute when you were five. Now, it’s just discomfiting.

“Don’t call me that,” you bite, “and I don’t like you anymore.”

“Sure you don’t,” he rolls his eyes, and you flinch when Jungkook’s hand rests on the curve of your waist, fingers slotting themselves between the pleats of your skirt. “That’s why you’re not moving away when I’m about to put my hand under your skirt. Because you don’t like me.”

You press yourself further into the door, your skin hot and vibrating. So warm, you feel like you could melt through the door and escape from Jungkook’s gaze. Sure, the young ladies in the congregation talk. Maybe you’ve heard a story or two about Jungkook being seedy, a result of being repressed after years and years of stiff routines and expectations thrust upon him. You could care less about Jungkook’s sexual appetite, until this appetite has reached you.

“Mm, you’re pretty,” Jungkook’s eyes roam your form, the daisy white blouse doing nothing to barricade Jungkook’s sudden interest in you, “you’ve never been touched like this, have you?”

“I’ve touched myself like this,” you hiss in defense, and it’s more out of anger than in pleasure. You don’t need a man to comfort you, but Jungkook’s eyes sparkle in mirth at the new information.

“That’s really sexy,” Jungkook slips down, roams his fingers down to your ankles and plays with the silver buckles of your Mary Janes. You shiver when his hands trail up up up to your knees, the swell of your thighs, and catch right under the elastic seam that holds your secrets together, “but I’ll have you know, it’s different when you have someone hold your pleasure in their hands.”

You’re in the storage room of your church, fifteen minutes before the Christmas mass, with Jeon Jungkook’s head between your legs. Your skirt is long, and Jungkook doesn’t bother to ride it up your waist.

It feels more forbidden that way, Jungkook hiding under the fabric of your skirt to get to your honeyed center, sneaking his way in with rough hands and soft touches.

“J-Jungkook,” you whimper, pressing your full spine against the wooden door, “we shouldn’t. N-not like this.”

What is wrong with you? Is it sheer curiosity? Do you just want to know what it finally, finally feels like? You should be pushing him away. There’s red lights flashing back and forth in your brain like sirens. Yet, do you really want to turn away the attention you’ve been aching for years?

You imagined your first time to be relatively special. The bare minimum, a bed, a talk, and a partner you’re mutually committed to. None of those things are met. Now you understand why all the young women in church whisper about sex like this. It’s a spur of the moment, it’s an unbridled pleasure you don’t want to stop, no matter how forbidden and sinful the act is.

“How else then?” you feel his deep voice straight through your panties, his lips whispering between the pink cotton like he’s sinking liquid heat into your skin. “I can’t sink my fingers into your sweet cunt during the candle lighting. Or when we open presents with the family after. That would be inappropriate.”

Your replies come out in breaths, puffs of air that conceal the moans you so badly want to let out as Jungkook pokes and rubs at you. He does nothing beyond the cotton fabric, only slides two fingers up and down your slit as he gathers the arousal between his digits.

“So wet already, that’s so sexy,” he’s kissing your core, and you sigh fretfully at the pleasure that feels so close yet so far away.

“P-please, Jungkook…”

“Please what?” Jungkook teases, fingers slipping back and forth between the elastic of your underwear, “please stop? Please touch me? Please fuck me?”

The church bell answers that, and Jungkook’s nose knocks right into your bud at the sudden intrusion. You yelp at the jarring stimulation, pulling him from under your skirts as the loud noise echoes in the room. Both of you wince at the pain, the moment interjected.

“You first,” Jungkook casually opens the door for you, as if he didn’t have you ten seconds away from begging him to make you come.

You don’t even look at him as you dash away, not bothering to take the elevator in favor of running off the heat. Two minutes before the procession. The church is packed to the brim, only the back seats left. Your family probably gave up on waiting for you up in the front. As you sit down in the corner, you’re momentarily distracted by the beauty of a decorated church on Christmas. Even though you’re part of the decorating committee and commanded most of the design, seeing the stained glass lit up with fairy lights and the poinsettia plants blooming burgundy on the altar, you’re impressed.

“There’s a draft here, you must be cold.” Jungkook talks to you so politely, a perfect picture of a gentleman as he drapes his leather jacket over your lap. He speaks as if it’s a pleasant surprise, a childhood friend he hasn’t seen in nearly a year.

You can’t tell him to move when people are watching and Jungkook is seconds from interrupting the procession, so you reluctantly scoot over so he can sit next to you. His scent overwhelms you even more now that you’ll have to sit next to him for a whole hour, lavender and vanilla overtaking your pew.

The jacket is heavy and heady on your lap, and you force yourself to stare straight ahead. Jungkook cannot weaken you like this, not anymore.

Thirty minutes later, his fingers are hovering at the start of the homily, caressing your thighs under the jacket with his big hands. A draft? Please. You clamp your thighs together, knocking your knees and hoping they’d lock together for the rest of the mass. Jungkook’s a master key, easily parting his way as if your muscles are pure jelly. You turn your head sharply, glaring at him with all the fire in the world.

“Careful,” Jungkook mouths, eyes flickering to the symbol atop the podium, “he’s watching.”

His fingers finally brush the damp blush cotton of your panties, and you shudder.

#ficswithluv #btsguild #btswritingcafe #kwritersworldnet #btsghostie #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #bts smut #bts fic #jungkook angst #bts angst #kpop fic #hansolmates

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achillieus · 3 years

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let you down. (sebastian stan x reader)

summary: it's a universal truth but it's worth repeating; feelings eat us raw. or just an actor and a girl falling in and out of love over the course of three months.

(this was inspired by sebastian's visit to greece for his movie, monday, and is based on that, so that means in the story we’re in 2018. also i have this posted on ao3 too but while i’m writing the last parts i thought of posting it here too)

pairing: sebastian stan x reader

warnings: alcohol, sexual references, implied depression, don’t kill me because of the ending, sebastian and reader are the definition of right person wrong time, it's kinda slowburn because i love the yearning, also this part has some funny moments but overall it’s a big SOB

part: 6/6 (there will also be an epilogue)

(other parts) (masterlist)

This is how it ends: broken hearts from crashed dreams.

Sebastian holds you until his muscles ache and your lungs burn from the feeling of too little oxygen. It is cold and dark, almost midnight, too dark, a starless night.

No more stars for you and I.

“Here,” Voice hoarse, eyes heavy-lid and itching from almost crying. He gives you one of the rings he wore in the movie. “I want you to keep this.”

Keep it close to your heart. Forget me not.

He takes a breath and a step back, tries to regain all the strength he still has, steady feet and shoulders fixed. He digs his nails into his palms, red marks in his skin, air catching in his throat, he’s on the verge of falling but he stays standing.

He remembers tears glistening down his cheeks, maybe they were yours not his, and the cold autumn wind hitting his face and he remembers feeling like he’s dying.

And then he closes the door of Argyris’ car and looks at you.

And his heart stretches and stretches and stretches and then somehow splits in half.

It goes like this:

There’s a ghost that lives in your apartment from now on. In the living room. Sitting on the couch. And it has steel blue eyes and a familiar heart. And it whispers a love story, half-finished, and you cannot make it stop.

The ghost touches your collarbone and he’s gone but there’s a ring in a golden chain around your neck and a white shirt forgotten in your laundry. And it smells like him. The clinging scent of his aftershave sticking to your pores. Eucalyptus. And no matter how hard you try to wash it off, it still lingers.

How could I ever forget someone like you?

The ghost lives here, but the place is empty, so empty. And it’s hard not to cry.

Sebastian calls and texts a lot.

He tells you he’s tired but excited because he started filming a new movie. It’s very indie and experimental, I can’t wait for you to see it. He tells you he’s missing his days in Greece like hell and that one night he dreamt of you. Didn’t want to wake up. What he doesn’t tell you is that he’s coming back in a month, Argyris needs him for some extra scenes. It’s nearly killing him but he doesn’t tell you. He wants to surprise you, see the pure light in your eyes when they’ll meet his.

You try sexting. It doesn’t go very well.

23:50, sebastian: if you were here in my bed right now what would you be doing

06:51, you: probably falling asleep hahaha

06:51, you: oh fuck was i supposed to sext back

06:51, you: sorry seb i just woke up and i have a class in an hour, love you <3

23:52, sebastian: fuck timezones

(three weeks and 10 seconds later)

“I can’t believe she doesn’t know you’re here,” Argyris shakes his head as he’s driving home from the airport, “If I were her, I’d kill you.”

“Good thing I didn’t fall in love with you.”

Sebastian laughs and looks out of the car window. The stars. There are so many stars tonight. He holds his breath; he’s finally feeling whole again. His heart isn’t split in two anymore.

You don’t know how long you stand there at your door, staring at him, but it feels like a century before he grins, almost laughs, takes your hands in his and you start considering that perhaps this isn’t a hallucination. Perhaps it’s real.

“Surprise?”

Something inside of you bursts, your organs twitch. You can’t think, you can’t speak, but you can move. You don’t lose any more time, you take a step forward, attach your bodies, your face buried in his neck, your fingers clutching into the rough fabric of his jacket. You breathe him in like an antidote.

“How?”

“Does it matter?”

“No.”

You kiss him and it’s like poetry, like art, like honey and you can’t separate yourself from him, not even hours later.

(looking back, these were the golden days)

You pretending to be mad at him for not telling you he was coming back and him pressing his lips on your skin, drawing patterns on your naked shoulder. A feathery touch.

Sebastian always touches you like you’re something made of gold and porcelain, something cherished that constantly needs to be treasured. And nobody has done that before. And you love him for it.

You try to decorate your Christmas tree together. He messes with the lights for a while, eventually gives up and goes on to eat too many reindeer shaped cookies.

He massages your muscles when you write a boring essay for college.

You go with him when he has to shoot a “driving a motorcycle naked in the centre of Athens” scene and you bite the inside of your cheeks to stop smiling like an idiot.

He gives you a dress he bought for you in New York.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

He calls you sweetheart in the mornings, still half asleep and later joins you in the shower.

“Why are you so hot?”

“Climate change”

“Oh, shut up”

It’s tender and it’s soft and it’s human.

And that’s the saddest part.

Soon you realize that him leaving two months ago was merely a rehearsal and you still haven’t said your actual goodbyes. Your chest starts to feel as if it’s full of crushed glass.

And it’s ridiculous because you fell in love with Sebastian sometime between the first ten days you spent together.

Who falls in love in ten days?

Ridiculous or not, you know you are in love with him just as you know that sooner or later, whatever he is feeling will fade and wither. Maybe it’ll be in a week, maybe it’ll be in a month, maybe in a year if you’re lucky. But there will definitely come a day when he will step out of a gala or a party or a fancy gym in New York with a beautiful model in his arms and two paparazzi’s following him around.

What will you be then?

A past small cameo in his life. A side character. Will he remember your name?

He is your whole world.

(a bottle of cheap prosecco helps you decide that)

He is your whole world.

And yet, there will come a day when he won’t even remember your name.

It was difficult. No, it was the most difficult thing you’ve ever done. Telling him how you think it’d be better if you didn’t talk after he leaves.

“I don’t agree with this.”

“Seb, it’s for the best.”

Your body doesn’t feel strong enough to carry your heart. And you’re certain it will only get worse once he’s away. The world around you will melt. You’ll obsess over a phone screen and his messages. You’ll start chasing ghosts again. You can’t handle that.

“Why?” He says urgently and his fingers dance over the flesh of your palms.

“Because this”, you motion your hand between the two of you, “is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever had in my life and I don’t want it to become ugly.”

He nods, he understands.

“I love you, you know,” he says smiling and tugs you closer to him, “And I may not be here to show you but I think I’ll love you for a long time.”

Your hand grips his waist right to the bones and something flares in your eyes, something wild that wrenches you around.

“I know, I’ll love you the same.”

“Maybe we’ll meet again.”

“Only if I’m the luckiest girl on the planet.”

He laughs and you look at him, fully aware he’ll be ripped out of your life like a page from a cheap leather notebook. And when you kiss for the last time, there’s a hole forming in your soul.

And just because endings don’t leave visible scars to one’s body and soul, that doesn’t mean the scars don’t exist. You know they do, because you feel the aching pain of every single one of them.

(every night when you close your eyes you see him)

(every night you look at the stars and think of him)

A month passes and Argyris asks you if you miss him.

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

“He said the exact same thing.”

You tell him not to mention Sebastian again.

Two months pass and you need to stop stalking his instagram profile.

Three months pass and you almost text him.

Four months pass and you go to watch Endgame with some friends and you cry. You cry when Black Widow sacrifices herself and when Iron Man smiles at his wife while dying, and when Bucky Barnes appears on screen.

The others don’t understand and you don’t blame them.

Five months pass and Argyris’ girlfriend wants you to meet someone. A charming boy your age with blonde hair and a lip piercing.

And he's cute but you compare him to Sebastian even before he has the chance to say his name. His eyes are not the right shade of blue and he doesn’t look at you like you’re made of the world’s finest jewel.

And he doesn’t know any constellation names.

And then more than a year passes in a second and you learn to not look for him. Not anymore.

It’s early March 2020 and despite the rising fear of the upcoming pandemic, you’re doing well. Scars are starting to fade. And after spending two weeks in Prague, your best friend being there with an exchange program, Sebastian Stan is the farthest thing from your mind.

Until he literally comes crashing into you. At the airport.

No, it can’t be him.

You have your suitcase on one hand and a bottle of antiseptic gel on the other. He has two bodyguards on his sides and a black hoodie on. And while half of his face is hidden behind a mask, you can see his eyes perfectly. A frozen lake in December. You would know those eyes in your deathbed, at the end of the world.

Your vision gets blurry and suddenly you feel cold.

He won’t recognize me, he can’t.

But then he looks at you and every memory you had buried inside of you resurfaces.

He motions to his guards to wait for him and he starts walking towards you. You breathe slowly, one breath at a time. He takes his mask off and you hesitate to take yours, not sure if you truly want him to see you.

You exchange the typical and very awkward hi, how are you, i’m glad you’re doing okay and then he smiles and it feels comfortable. Familiar.

It’s the whiff of another time that you always kept around. A reminder that you were once loved by a god.

“What are you doing here?”

“Filming Falcon and the Winter Soldier”

If you hadn’t unfollowed him on instagram, you’d known.

“Ah yes I heard about that, congrats.”

He nods a thank you.

“And you? In Prague?”

“I was at a friend.”

He looks conflicted, hurt, turns his gaze to his shoes on the grey cement. You want to say something, but you feel like throwing up.

And then he laughs.

“I was right.”

You’re confused, he notices.

“Back in Greece,” he swallows, “I told you this would happen.”

“It would have been an airport, different gates for each of us, but same waiting hall. Or a Greek island, where we’d both be for the summer.”

“I would have found you.”

You remember and you cannot help but smile. He was right. He found you.

“I didn’t believe you then.”

I barely believe you now.

He touches your hair. And his touch is like a knife. And you want to cry. Magnolias under your tongue. A love long lost is whispering in your ears until it hurts to listen. He’s like a magnetic field and you feel yourself drowning in him.

“I bet they’ll ask me a hundred questions about you later.” He says and looks at the two men waiting for him.

“And what will you tell them?”

“That you’re most probably the love of my life.”

Don’t cry, don’t cry.

“There’s no way we’d meet here if you’re not.”

“Sebastian,” His name sounds like a prayer coming out of your lips and you're ready to tell him you love him and you can swear he looks like he’s ready to faint, “I-”

The guards yell his name. And it's the same feeling people have just before a car crash.

“I’m sorry, I have to go.”

One last look.

Don’t cry, don’t cry.

You repeat it over and over again. But you fail.

“No, don't cry” He smiles, one last smile, “Just look at the stars and wait for us to meet again, because we will.”

He caresses the back of your palm for a second and you think your ribcage is shattering but it’s only your heart drumming frantically. Pushing your fragile bones to break.

You want to stop him, wrap your arms around his torso, never let him go. Not again. But you don’t.

You just watch him leave, one more time, your knees weak, your head heavy and dizzy. For the split of a moment he turns and glances at you but then he’s nowhere to be seen.

Perhaps it was all in your imagination. Perhaps it was nothing but a wonder.

You get into your plane and you silently sob.

And then it’s summer.

And you overhear he was seen with a girl, the day before your vacation starts and you find a picture of them together a week later, a pretty blonde girl clinging to his side with a colorful bikini somewhere in Spain. And he’s smiling. And you feel so ashamed. And so stupid.

They say time heals all wounds but they must be wrong because you can’t forget how he used to smile at you or how he used to call you the love of his life.

Was he joking when he said you'll meet again? You bet if you asked him now, he wouldn't even remember saying it.

I’ll love you for a long time.

So long for nothing.

i really appreciate feedback, it motivates me tons and also tell me if you’d like to be tagged :) also i’m really sorry if you asked me to tag you and i didn’t but i lost a lot of asks and the urls of the people that sent them :(

tagging: @lharrietg @awkward117 @dannaloureen @broccoligf @cutestfangirlvevo @caitdaniels @arymb @buckybarnesishot310 @roguesthetic @itsaliceheree @sara-1705 @dorothea-hwldr @freshfreakoaftrash @drinkfantasy @christinamcdonnell @partypoison00 @90ssantiago

#sebastianstan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #letyoudown #monday the movie #sebastian stan angst #sebastian stan x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader

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mystic-sky · 3 years

Note

This is just a request, but do you think you can write something short about gojo meeting his s/o who is a poc and how he’d react to her curly hair 🥺👉🏾👈🏾 the fandom is still pretty new so there’s not a lot of poc drabbles out there if any at all.

Here you go bby, I hope you enjoy 💕✨

Summary: An AU where you’re a sorcerest whose stationed in Japan due to the National Sorcerer Exchange Program I just made up lol. Even though it’s your first encounter Satoru is a big flirt, as usual✨💘

Word count: 1.7k

It was annoying, being one of the few special grade sorcerers based in Tokyo. Satoru Gojo often wished he could duplicate himself at least three or four times, just to reduce some of the workload stress he had. The older he got, the more he wished he wasn’t the strongest- and that’s a pretty surprising statement on his end.

He felt he couldn’t catch a break. Between special grade work, his students and now looking after Yuji Itadori, who hysterically swallowed a special grade object, he had a lot on his plate.

It was hardly a burden for him. He only wished he could be in multiple places at once. This way, he could make sure the higher ups wouldn’t mess with his students, who meant so much to him.

In sight of the increased special grade activity in Japan and several other countries, the first ever Sorcerer Exchange program was implemented by higher ups across the world. It would ensure that special and first grade sorcerers were evenly spread out and or placed in regions that needed special attention. Satoru wasn’t particularly fond of anything the higher ups did, but this idea wasn’t so bad.

“A government funded, international sorcerer exchange program,” Yaga informs Satoru, who sits across from him, idly drinking his tea.

“And how does this work exactly?” Satoru raises a brow at Yaga before dropping cubes of sugar into his cup, stirring loudly.

“For 6 month spans, high level sorcerers who applied to the exchange will be stationed in different countries to regulate curse activity.”

“Sounds like it pays more. Nanamin might like that.”

“It does, depending on your skill level.” Yaga sits back in his seat. “We’ve already received a few sorcerers from America, Africa, China, Russia-”

“All special grade?” Satoru interjects.

“Currently the exchange program only allows special and first grade sorcerers. Considering the high levels of cursed energy around the world this year, it would be best if we avoided any casualties by placing inexperienced sorcerers in the wrong places.”

“That reminds me. You’re prohibited from participating, considering we’re a red area. Until cursed activity improves here you won’t be allowed to participate.”

“Aww c’mon, you guys suck.” Satoru cocks his head back, sighing loudly.

He already traveled a lot for special grade missions but never for more than a few days. Now there was a whole six-month program and he wasn’t allowed to participate in it? Then again, he couldn’t leave Yuji here with the possibility of the higher ups trying to hurt him again. He promised himself he would protect all of his students.

“There are several meetings I must attend tomorrow and I’d like for you to be there. Don’t be late.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Is that all you wanted to talk about?” Satoru is already up and gripping the handle on the office door.

“I’ve also decided to assign a co-teacher to your first years, for your shorter stationed trips every now and then. She’s an extremely talented special grade from the exchange program. So you needn’t worry of a repeat of the detention center incident with Yuji.”

He had already swung the door open, towering above your body in the door frame. Your nose is barely touching his jacket, and hand almost touching his chest as you were attempting to knock. You take a step back, a bit startled.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I tried to knock,” you say, looking up at the blindfolded man in front of you. “I’m looking for Masamichi Yaga?”

Satoru is startled by your flawless Japanese, considering you’re clearly not of Japanese descent. He took note of your tan skin and big, curly hair that was pinned back in certain spots to display your face.

What a cutie.

“No, I’m Satoru Gojo. Principal Yaga’s the one sitting behind me.” He’s not entirely surprised by your appearance, considering he’s traveled all over the world to fight curses. “And you are?”

You almost think he’s flirting, considering how smooth the question was. Also, you’re now recognizing who he is, cheeks reddening a bit.

“I’m (Full Name). You’re the special grade I’m going to be subbing with for the first years! I’ve heard great things!” You politely bow a bit.

“I know.” His grin large and cocky as he steps out the way, allowing you to walk in. “No need to be so formal though.”

You’re slightly put off by his attitude, but principal Yaga interjects quickly.

“(Last Name), come in. I’ve been awaiting your arrival. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” Yaga is on his feet now, bowing towards you.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too. I’m excited to work with you all.” You say as he motions you to sit and have some tea.

Satoru has found a reason to stay in the room, plopping down beside you and taking up his tea he had previously abandoned.

“Thanks for sending Ichiji to the airport to help with my belongings. I brought so much stuff, I hope it wasn’t too much for him.” You brain flashes back to Ichiji struggling to hold all of your luggage outside the baggage claim.

“Pffft, feel free to call on him whenever you want. That’s what he’s here for.” Satoru assures you, flashing you a toothy grin. You get the feeling that he probably made Ichiji’s job a living hell.

“I must say, Ms. (Last Name), your Japanese is remarkable. How did you become so fluent?” Yaga asks, filling your cup.

“I’m flattered. I taught myself what I could before attending (insert random ass college name in Japan) University. I’ve always admired Japanese culture so I studied it pretty hard. I can also speak (Native language, if you have one) and (two other languages of your choosing).”

“Wow, your Japanese is better than most locals.” Satoru chuckled. “And you’re pretty too. Lucky me.”

You shifted in place on the sofa. The most powerful sorcerer known to man was sitting beside you and he was complimenting you.

“Thank you,” you say loosely, picking up your teacup.

“Ahem,” Yaga interrupts, earning a tiny snort from Satoru.

“He hates it when I flirt.” Satoru whispers as he leans over towards you. Your face feels a bit hot, and you decide it’s from the steam of the tea in your face and not the handsome man leaning a bit too close to you. You set the cup down after the lightest sip.

“I hate to get down to business so soon Ms. (Last Name), but I’d like for you to get settled in as soon as possible. I’ve mapped out a few assignments for you this week. This is your first.” He slides the first report across the table.

“There have been several reports of abnormal cursed energy in Shinjuku City. It’s likely a special grade. I’d like for you to get to the bottom of it. It shouldn’t be a problem, considering your level of expertise. I’ve forwarded the documents to you as well.” The glint in his glasses makes you chuckle a bit. You flip through the report briefly.

“I skimmed this one on the flight. Whatever it is,” you begin, taking out your phone, “seems to be luring children. This corresponds with the rise in missing childrens’ cases I read about in Shinjuku.”

You place the article on your phone down on the table for principal Yaga to read. You liked to do your own research on locals news to see if curses had any sort of correspondence with a certain area’s events.

“You think a curse is kidnapping children?” Satoru suggests.

“It’s just a hunch. It’s nothing I haven’t encountered before.” You bite the nail on your thumb, realizing the inevitable.

“Unfortunately, if I’m correct, those children most likely aren’t alive.”

You stand up, firmly.

“I trust you’ll take care of it then,” Yaga hands your device towards you.

“Most definitely,” you look at your watch. “And I’ll be done before dinner.”

You offer the principal a smile before you slip on your trench coat, eager to take on your first mission.

“By all means, it can wait until the morning after you’ve rested.” Yaga persists.

“Nope! Not when children are potentially involved. I can’t risk it.” You straighten your clothes, and bow once more. “I’ll report back soon.”

“(Name) doesn’t let jet lag stop her from doing her job. What an admirable woman.” Satoru cooed.

“Well, Gojo-san, it was a pleasure meeting you.” You begin to wave but Satoru is on his feet, and right behind you, making you stumble back again.

“Oh no, I’m coming with you.” He grins. “I’ve gotta see what the most powerful special grade sorceress is capable of in person.”

While you had heard of your own nickname before, you hated when people called you that. You tried your best to be humble about it. There’s always new ways to improve your cursed technique, even if you don’t know how yet.

“So you do know who I am,” you shifted your stance, hands on your hips.

“I’ve heard a few things,” he says slyly. “But I’d like to see them first hand.”

“Hmph, alright then. I suppose you can show me around Shinjuku. It’s been a while since I’ve been there.” You flip your hair, making your way towards the door.

“And it’s your lucky day, I feel like showing off.” You say, peaking over your shoulder.

“Great, it’s a date.”

You stop dead in your tracks, just two steps out of Yaga’s office.

“What?”

“Even after four years of university in Japan? I said, it’s a date.”

The door shuts behind him, and his grin is even more smug.

The audacity.

“You’re not going on a date with me unless you ask me properly.” You roll your eyes, swaying down the steps. So this was Satoru Gojo.

“C’mon sweetheart, we’d be iconic as hell— the strongest man and the strongest woman? We’d be unstoppable.”

“I don’t even know what you look like underneath that thing.” You say, motioning towards his blindfold.

Oh , but you lied. You’d seen his Instagram.

He was a selfie fanatic. That and a cake fiend.

“Wanna see right now? Will it change your mind?” His voice low and steady behind you.

“I’ve got a curse to excorcise.” You roll your eyes, speeding up ahead of him. It didn’t help much considering his legs were so long.

“You know you wanna,” he bends down, voice deep in your ear.

“I’m not listening~

You’re far ahead of him now, attempting to hide the heat on your face and hearing deep chuckles echo behind you.

“Ah, this is going to be the best six months ever!” He laughs heartily.

A small smile crept on your lips.

Maybe it would be.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x POC reader #jjk gojo #poc fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo sensei #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo saturo #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu sorcerer #gojo x satoro x reader

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writtenonnapkins · 3 years

Text

Recruiting Moony

Credit for Coops goes to @lumosinlove

It was way too early for Sirius to be walking into one of the Hogwarts locker room. Honestly, five A.M. was too early for any activities at all, but he was too full of nervous energy to sleep in today.

Coach had asked the whole team to come in, despite it being off-season to review the tapes of some rookie they had recruited outside of the draft. Kingsley, the Director of Scouting, was also supposed to be at the mysterious discussion with the team.

In the locker room, every member seeming to be curious over what this was about. They didn’t usually have to view the tapes of any new team members, that decision was usually handled by the coaching staff and Scouters, so they all knew this wasn’t a normal meeting.

Talker looked up from his conversation with Timmy when he entered, “So, Cap, what’s this about? I assume they told you more than us?”

“Can’t say,” Sirius replied, “Just have to see what they have for us.”

“Ah-ha, a media answer! So you do know what we are here for, or rather who.”

The room had quieted down during Sirius and Talker’s exchange, listening in to see if they could get any new info from it. All of them were sitting up a bit straighter at the revelation that Sirius did, in fact, know a bit more than they did.

“Common, Cap, give us a hint. Is he a risk? Old? Mean? Throw us a bone,” Talker pestered. He seemed to be the only one awake enough to do so at the moment, though the others were listening with growing interest.

“Stop bothering the Captain, Talker, you’ll know soon enough,” Coach said as he, the other coaches, and Kingsley entered the room, taking their places by the projector screen brought in after them.

Kingsley set to booting up the projector while Coach attempted to wrangle the team into sitting down.

“As I’m sure you may have noticed,” Kingsley began, “This is not our normal procedure when it comes to recruiting new players. But, we felt this was a special case that you all should have a voice in before we make an official offer.”

On the screen, a player profile picture popped up, and next to it a collection of videos, stats, as well as a separate pop up with Gryffindor Staff info. The team took in what they were seeing in stunned silence.

Remus. It was Loops.

Sirius didn’t look away from the screen, afraid to make eye contact with anyone.

“Uhh, is that Loops?” Dumo said with clear confusion on his face.

Kingsley continued on with his presentation as if not interrupted or impacted by the suddenly odd energy in the room.

“Remus Lupin: age 25, so he would be on the older side as far as rookies go. Wisconsin Hockey starting left-winger from his freshmen year until Junior when he had a shoulder injury caused by a teammate causing him to be removed from the team and NHL Draft eligibility. A story I think you are all rather familiar with.”

Sirius looked around at everyone, mostly seeing faces of confusion still, and a few with understanding and excitement beginning to form.

“What I think most of you are less familiar with, is what Lupin has been doing since then.”

“He’s been our PT Kings, we know. What are you leading up to?” Finn cut in.

“I’m getting there Mr. O’Hara. As you said, Lupin has been your PT since he was finishing up his last year of his Physical Therapy Masters, but I am not here to discuss his credentials in PT. I’m here to talk about Hockey.”

“Lupin was put on a strict PT and recovery program after his shoulder injury and regained most of his abilities within a year and a half after the injury. He says he has kept up with his PT since then, as well as various conditioning and weight training programs he put himself on as a PT.”

“Are you trying to sell us on Remus for the team? Cause he kind of kicked our asses a while ago if you remember, if you want him on the team we won’t fight. I would actually be thrilled,” Kasey said cutting off Kingsley once again. His point emphasized by nods and smiles from the other members.

Kingsley sure was taking his time with whatever his presentation included, and by now most of the team had caught on to what was happening.

“I understand you think the entire explanation unnecessary due to your familiarity with Lupin, but it’s a unique situation and PR wanted you all to know the full story,” Coach explained. “I know it’s weird but it was deemed necessary.”

“How about I move on to some tapes,” Kingsley suggested, “These tapes are from Lupin’s junior year at Wisconsin, followed by some more recent tapes of Lupin running drills as part of PT.”

The tapes began playing on the projector, ending the discussion, and captivating everyone in the room. They watched Remus skate smoothly around the entire of the opposing team, going fast than any player on the ice by far. He was yelling at his teammates as he skated by calling plays.

“I didn’t know Loops was captain,” James whispered, noticing the C stitched into his jersey.

The tape showed Remus calling for the puck before racing towards the goal, shooting it in before the goalie seemed to even process it. In the tape, Remus threw his head back and howled as his teammates swarmed him and the buzzer rang.

“Moony! Moony! Moony!” was being chanted by the crowd before the tape cut.

Kingsley proceeded to play twelve other brief, but just as impressive, clips of Remus, commenting on different skills in each that the board and coaches felt would add to the team.

Then more recent tapes began to play, these ones are clearly taken without Remus knowing as he skated through drills, just as fast and skillful as he had been in college. The hockey captain in Sirius immediately picked out not only his speed but also his control of the puck and balance as he skated. He was good; was still good.

“Damn, when does he have time to skate like that?” Talker threw out.

“Uhh, he comes here at five every morning. I always thought Moody had him organizing early or something until I saw the tapes,” Sirius confessed, “Turns out he was actually running drills for a couple of hours in the morning before he had to clock in. Been doing it for years according to Moody.”

“Cool, so what’s the hold-up? Should we vote on it? I think we are all good with Loops joining the team, as I’m sure you knew we would be.” Logan said clearly over, sitting in the meeting room. He probably wanted to go celebrate Loops. And probably make fun of him for the college team nickname they had just learned.

“Well, if none of you have objections, we will move forward with Lupin’s contract. Thank you for your time and input.” Kingsley said as he swept out of the room.

The team all turned to look at Coach, silently asking him with grins stretched wide and excitement finally taking hold in their minds after the unnecessary long meeting. Honestly, while seeing Remus’s tapes was fun, did anyone really think they would object to Loops being on the team?

Coach noticed the looks, and grinning back at them said “I believe Lupin is currently doing his regular drills on the rink if anyone wants to watch before conditioning starts.”

Before Coach had even finished his sentence, the team was racing out the doors towards the rink.

“Eh Moony! You think you’ll still howl when you get a goal even if we call ya Loops?” Talker shouted out at Remus who was, as predicted running early morning drills. Remus whipped around at the name looking shocked and mildly scared at all of them.

“I’m guessing they showed you the tapes then?” Remus yelled back as he skated over to them.

“Oh yeah they did,” Logan replied laughing, “Can’t believe you’re the howler out of you and Cap.”

“Oh fuck off.”

#coops #sweater weather lumosinlove #remus lupin #sirius black #lumosinlove

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mammonshuman92 · 3 years

Text

- Watched -

Mammon & GN!MC

** TW: Stalking, cussing, religion (ish? I guess?)

| part two | | part three |

It’s been nearly 6 months since you left the Devildom. You picked up where you had left off in the human world: college, work, home, repeat. Sure, you missed your family while you were away, but now your heart aches almost constantly for the new family you loved so much, that you had to leave behind. (Not that you really had a choice in the matter.)

As much as it hurt to leave the brothers, Diavolo was right. Establishing harmony and unity with the three realms won’t go over too well if one of the human representatives doesn’t go back to the human world, now will it? Still, it sucks. Life is so boring without all of them.

And quiet.

It’s not like you don’t talk though. Yeah, Diavolo has that rule in place where they have to take turns talking to you because “human’s lives are short” and they were “taking up too much of your time”, but that’s not really going to stop them, is it?

Well kinda, actually.

You can’t really argue with a direct order from the demon lord, after all.

Is it Asmo's day to call? You thought to yourself, trying to remember (not that you ever could) the schedule Lucifer came up with. Your own schedule was hard enough to remember.

You had been picking up extra shifts at work and staying late to study at school when you could. Finding any reason to stay busy or get out of the house. The deafening silence was too much to bear.

"I wonder when I can go visit? I should call Diavolo.." you said to yourself quietly.

You were walking home from your shift at the coffee shop near campus. The sun was just starting to set and the air was slightly crisp, causing you to pull your jacket a little tighter.

If it weren't for the brilliant pinks and warm oranges cast on the sky by the setting sun, it would've felt like a regular night in the Devildom. Memories of your last few days spent there came flooding back, bringing the sadness along with them.

In just one year, you had gotten so close to everyone, but you had gotten especially close to Mammon. He was responsible for you in the beginning of course, but the connection was undeniable (no matter how much he did deny it). He was a total simp for you, and you for him. It was rather cringey to everyone else. He could be a handful at times, but that tsundere really is a great boyfriend. Leaving him behind was... well, there's no words for it.

Rounding the corner, you could see your house perfectly. Now that the sun had gone down a bit more, it was getting darker and you were suddenly thankful that you remembered to turn on the porch light before you left.

You pulled your keys from your jacket pocket while climbing the few steps to your front door, and something caught your eye. Your stomach dropped.

Not again..

You plucked the folded piece of paper that was stuck in the screen door and quickly made your way inside, locking the door behind you.With a heavy sigh, you tossed your keys on the table by the door and dropped your bag on the floor beside you. You immediately went to shower and change not giving the paper a second thought.

Not everyone in the human world agreed with the Devildom exchange student program. After you and Solomon had arrived in the Devildom, there were numerous protests by a group much like the Westboro lunatics. They were without a doubt against the program and called for it’s immediate termination. Thankfully, their personal hatred was no match for the opportunity for the realms to find peace.

When you had returned, you noticed people whispering about you, calling you names and giving you dirty looks. You've even received quite a few pieces of hate mail. Granted, the people opposed to the program were very small in numbers, even if it didn’t seem that way. It didn't bother you though. Demons ended up being some of the most important people to you. Not to mention you were kinda in love with one of them. People could say what they wanted about the Devildom and about you, their words didn't bother you.

You were still towel drying your hair when your phone rang. Tossing the towel, you rushed to the living room to fish it out of your bag, Asmo's face popping up on the caller ID. You were right, it was Asmo’s night. You were secretly hoping it was a certain greedy demon’s turn to call (not that he doesn’t text you almost constantly.)

Asmo was the same as usual. Talking animatedly about this and that, gushing over new beauty products and outfits, filling you in on all the gossip you were missing. While he was rambling, your eyes fell onto the paper that was in your door. Might as well look at the newest piece of hate mail, right?

You began unfolding the paper, quickly giving Asmo an “omg!” about the gossip he was dishing (even though you hadn’t been paying attention.)

Upon seeing the contents, all the color drained from your face. You were sure your heart sank into your stomach, but you could hear the rapid beating in your ears. You suddenly felt hot, and the air around you seemed thick.

Then the adrenaline kicked in.

With shaky hands, you quickly checked the front door making sure it was locked, and headed to the back door to do the same. You rushed around checking the windows and pulling all the curtains closed. Everything seemed fine, nothing out of the ordinary. Still, that didn’t settle your nerves any.

“MC, dear? Did you hear me?” The sound of Asmo’s voice brought you out of your frantic state.

“Huh? S-sorry Asmo. I guess I s-spaced out.” You tried your best to keep your tone normal and steady your breathing, as to not alert him to anything. You really should give him more credit, though.

“MC? Is everything alright?” His tone was different, no longer playful and flirty. You could hear the concern.

Shit.

“Yeah, I’m fine. More hate mail is all. No biggie.” You lied. Maybe he would believe it..

There was a pause on his end, “You’re STILL getting it? Don’t they have anything better to do?” Good, he bought it. For now, anyway.

After about 10 more minutes Asmo said his goodbyes, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

This piece hate mail turned out to be something much worse than the run of the mill stuff you usually received. Inside there were pictures. Of you. At work, at school, the grocery store, ...outside your house. There was also a newspaper clipping that had a picture of you and your family, from when your parents first opened their bakery a few years back. There were red ‘Xs’ marked through everyone’s faces...

The only words scrawled inside read, “I’ve been watching you. You will pay for what you’ve done, whore. And don’t even think about telling your demon fuck buddies. I know everything about you and your family. It’d be a shame if anything happened to poor old Mom and Dad because their child is an unholy slut.”

You read it over and over, tears streaking your cheeks. Hate mail was nothing new, but now this? A stalker?

Maybe I’m just over thinking it. The other hate mail was spicy too. But these pictures... There is NO way I’m over thinking this..

“Regardless, I can’t tell the brothers.” You shuddered at what their reaction would be like. It would definitely make all of Diavolo’s hard work on the exchange program obsolete. It wouldn’t be good for any of the three realms. There was still a long way to go, but the program was a giant step in the right direction to obtaining peace and understanding. If dealing with some backlash and hate mail could help get closer to that goal, then for the sake of the greater could, you could handle it.

“For now, I will bear this burden myself.”

- {3 weeks later} -

“Are you okay?”

The simple question nearly made you squeak and nearly jump out of your skin. You turn and meet the worried gaze of your lab partner. You weren’t super close with her, so you knew your current state had to be bad if she was picking up on it.

God, do I really look that bad? You got a good look at yourself this morning, and yeah, you absolutely look that bad. But then again, you haven’t really slept in a few weeks. You had gigantic purple eye bags, your hair looked like a family of birds took up residence in it. Your skin was pale and lifeless, and you began skin picking at your nails due to the anxiety. You’d even lost about twenty pounds.

“Sorry, I guess I was spacing out.”

“It’s alright. It’s just- no offense, but you look awful. Have you been sleeping?” She asked, eyes scanning your face.

“Huh? Oh yeah, I'm fine. Promise.” You lied. She nodded and gave you a weak smile, dropping the subject for now.

You hadn’t really been paying attention to class today. Well, for the last several days, really. You’ve been putting in less effort for a lot of things lately. You’ve been slacking off bad at school and barely keeping up at work. Not to mention you never sleep anymore. How can you though?

You left class early and although it was still early in the day, you decided to skip the rest of your lectures for the day. You’ve always been a fantastic student, so taking a day off wouldn’t really hurt anything. And seeing as today was Thursday, you didn’t even have work today. Same as every week.

Upon arriving home, you were relieved to see that there weren’t any notes left for you. Yet, anyway.

Ever since the first letter a few weeks ago, they’ve been showing up constantly. Only a few times the first week or so, but now you get at least one every single day. They’re also increasing in severity. The sender seems to be becoming more and more unhinged with every passing day.

“Dirty demon whore!!”

“You’re a HUMAN!! How dare you taint your body with demons!”

“I will cleanse you and make you pure again.”

There was so, so much more. All of it growing more and more explicit with each letter.

The whole thing was taking a huge tool on you, but what could you do? Your family’s safety was on the line. You so badly wanted to tell Mammon of even the cops, but you couldn’t live with yourself if anything bad were to happen. Whatever this psycho had planned, you would gladly put yourself in the line of fire to save those closest to you.

The whole situation has also affected your relationship with Mammon and the rest of the brothers as well. At first, you tried to hide what was happening, but they started getting suspicious and asking questions. Always wondering why you sounded so tired and why you kept cutting their phone calls super short. You always rejected their face time requests, knowing that your drastic change in appearance would be alarming and alert them that something was wrong. Lately, you’ve barely talked to any of them. Especially Mammon. He’d be the first to figure out something was wrong with you and come here ready to fight.

That honestly didn’t sound too bad. You wanted nothing more than for him to hold you while you ugly cried. Breathing in his scent while he rubbed soothing circles on your back.

Your heart started to ache.

When you got home you decided to take a nice, hot shower to hopefully help ease some of your tension and possibly begin to get a handle on your quickly deteriorating self care status.

Once you felt somewhat normal again, you put on your comfiest pj’s (which included one of Mammon’s shirts) and plopped yourself on your bed in the fetal position. It was the only thing that kinda helped ease a tiny bit of the feeling that everything was spiraling out of control. The warm scent of your most favorite demon helped calm you.

*bzzz* *bzzz* *bzzz*

Damn. I almost fell asleep..

You sat up, rubbing your eyes and reached for your D.D.D. on your nightstand. The called ID made your heart rate accelerate and your palms sweaty.

It’s him.

“Mammon..? I thought it was Beel’s turn to call?”

“I don’t care about Lucifer’s stupid schedule. I need to talk to ya.” His tone made him sound like he was on edge.

“Oh, ok. What’s up?”

He scoffed, “Really? You’ve barely messaged me back in three days. The last time I called, ya hung up after five minutes.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, I’ve just been busy.” Every lie helps break your heart just a little more.

“You’ve never been too busy before. Besides, shouldn’t ya be in a class right now or somethin’? It ain’t even noon.”

“I left class early and I’m skipping the rest of the day.” You explained.

“..Hmm.” He replied, you could detect suspicion in his response.

It was quiet on his end for a moment.

“MC?”

“Yeah?”

“..Do ya got another boyfriend? Cause The Great Mammon is definitely better! And-and, I’ll kick their ass!”

“What? Mammon, no. One boyfriend is almost more than I can handle.”

“Wha- hey!”

For the first time in who knows when, you actually giggled. It felt so good.

“So, you swear nothin’ is wrong? You’ve been actin’ so weird.” His voice was heavy with concern.

“Yeah, I swear.” Lie.

As good as it felt to talk to him, you needed to end the call before he ended up dragging the truth out of you. If any one could figure out what was wrong with you, it’d be him. The two of you had spent so much time together, that you can practically read each other like a book.

“I gotta go, ok? I have work later and I need to get ready.” Lie. But, you needed to get off the phone with him before he suspects anything.

“Yeah, sure.” He sounded so defeated. You could almost hear him pouting.

After a quicker goodbye than you usually have when getting off the phone with Mammon, you fell back onto your bed with a heavy sigh.

That was a little rough, but he seemed to believe it. I hope this will all be over soon.

With that, you quickly fell asleep, lulled by the memory of your demon’s voice. Although you wouldn’t sleep long, at least you got to fall asleep to the thought of him.

*bzzz* *bzzz* *bzzz*

Geez, are ya gonna answer or not? Ya always pick up on the second ring when I call ya.., Mammon thought.

Finally, on the sixth ring, “Mammon..? I thought it was Beel’s turn to call?”

Man, hearing your voice is like music.

“I don’t care about Lucifer’s stupid schedule. I need to talk to ya.” His tone made him sound a little rougher than intended, but it was all the same. He needed to hear you voice.

“Oh, ok. What’s up?”

He scoffed, “Really? You’ve barely messaged me back in three days. The last time I called, ya hung up after five minutes.”

I miss ya like crazy. Ya keep avoiding me..

“Oh. I’m sorry, I’ve just been busy.”

Huh? But, MC is always busy doing somethin’ and it never stopped em’ before..

He started getting an uneasy feeling deep in his stomach. He could tell something was off, but he just didn’t know what it was.

Is it ...someone else? Nah, MC wouldn’t do that. ...Right??

“You’ve never been too busy before. Besides, shouldn’t ya be in a class right now or somethin’? It ain’t even noon.” He didn’t try to hide the pout, that he knew you could hear, in his voice. His own thoughts were beginning to hurt his feelings.

“I left class early and I’m skipping the rest of the day.” MC explained.

“..Hmm.” He hummed. Thoughts started swirling around in his head.

MC never skips school, not even at RAD. Somethin’ is definitely going on. And what’s with the short answers? MC always talks like crazy. Maybe they’re mad at me?

It was quiet for a moment while he tried to sort through his thoughts.

“MC?” He asked, finally breaking the silence.

“Yeah?”

“..D-do ya got another boyfriend? Cause The Great Mammon is definitely better! And-and, I’ll kick their ass!”

“What? Mammon, no. One boyfriend is almost more than I can handle.”

“Wha- hey!” You giggled at his response. It was small, but he heard it. It made his heart swim.

All joking aside, he did believe you. Something was definitely not right with you though.

“So, you swear nothin’ is wrong? You’ve been actin’ so weird.” His voice was heavy with concern.

“Yeah, I swear.” Those three words caused his heart to sink.

That was a lie.. MC only says ‘I swear’ while tryin’ to act like somethin’ ain’t wrong..

He pushed his thoughts aside for the time being and continued the conversation. It only lasted a few more minutes before you started saying your goodbyes. Again, cutting the call short.

“I gotta go, ok? I have work later and I need to get ready.”

Hmm. Why does that seem weird?

“Yeah, sure.” He sounded so defeated.

There was, without a doubt in his mind, something going on. Something that would make you lie to him..

One way or another, he was going to find out.

“Mammon? Are you alright?”

Mammon was sprawled out on the couch in the common room. After talking to you, he was lost in his thoughts and feeling rather down. Beel passed by the common room on his was back from the kitchen when he saw his older brother. Noticing that he looked sad, Beel went to investigate.

Mammon looked up to meet Bee’s concerned gaze and with a sigh, he sat up.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Mammon said, as he stood up to leave. Beel could tell he was obviously lying, but decided not to press the issue.

Mammon stopped a few paces away from Beel, and turned back around to face him.

“Hey, Beel. Was MC actin’, I don’t know, “off”, the last time ya talked to em’?” He asked the sixth born, thinking maybe you had accidentally let something slip.

Beel’s face seemed to twist up a little bit, and he nodded.

“Yeah, kind of. MC used to sound excited when I called, but now they hardly talk at all. And they used to send me pictures of the food they were eating and new recipes, at least twice a day, but it’s been about two weeks since the last one they sent.” He explained, sadness in his voice. While in the Devildom, you were his favorite person to eat with.

Mammon nodded at his brother, getting lost in his thoughts again.

So, it’s not just me. MC is actin’ strange with Beel too..

Neither of them had paid been paying enough attention to see Asmo enter the room.

“Mammon, there you are. I’m going out, and I need my new bag from Majolish. The one I let you borrow. And i swear, if you sold it-” Asmo stopped mid sentence when he noticed the sad state two of his brothers.

“Is it about MC?” He asked, nonchalaunt.

Mammon’s head snapped toward his brother.

“What do you mean? Did they say somethin’ to ya?” Mammon asked quickly, taking a few steps closer to his brother.

MC and Asmo always gossip with each other, so maybe they’d tell him somethin’..

“Calm down. MC really hasn’t talked to me much in the last month. I’m so hurt! Who else am I going to talk beauty products with? Lucifer? Goodness, no.”

“Asmo!” Mammon said loudly, trying to get the fifth born back on track.

“Oh, right. Let’s see.” He put a finger to his chin and thought about it. “Hmm. The only thing I can think of was during the last normal conversation I had with them. They said something about receiving a piece of hate mail. They said it was no big deal, but I distinctly remember MC seemed flustered by it. Which I thought was weird, considering it’s definitely not the first one they’d received..” Asmo explained.

Hate mail? MC has only mentioned it to me a couple times. Do they really get it that often..?

“How long ago was that?” Mammon asked. He felt like he was on the brink of something. Just a few more puzzle pieces..

“Hmm, it was right before MC started acting distant toward me. So, about three or four weeks, maybe.” Asmo explained. That’s around the time you had started acting weird with Mammon too.

“So, maybe something happened to MC.” Beel suggested.

“No, MC would tell us. ..Right?” Asmo questioned.

Mammon was so confused.

What is goin’ on with you, MC?

After talking with his brothers, Mammon holed himself up in his room. He didn’t really want to be around anyone at the moment. His thoughts were driving him crazy and giving him a headache. What was he not seeing? What piece of the puzzle was he missing?

He started going over your last conversation again, for the millionth time, looking for any kind of clue. But, you seemed normal. Well, your new normal, anyway. Distant, short answers, not giving too much to the conversation. What were you hiding?

It was something about the end of your conversation, but what was it?

He remembered your small giggle. The memory caused a smile to break out across his face. It gave him a tiny bit of hope that you were still there. That you still loved him. That whatever was troubling you, wasn’t making you forget them completely.

It was after that though. You had said “I swear”, which was a red flag, considering you only say it when you’re trying to convince him you’re ok when you’re really not.

He sighed, and rolled over on his bed. He looked at the alarm clock on his night stand, numbers glowing an angry red.

MC is probably at work right now..

Something caught his eye.

Today is Thursday... MC never works on Thursday. I guess the schedule coulda changed. No, cause MC specifically requested to always have that day off for some reason. Delivery day at their family’s bakery, I think. ...MC lied, again..

Then it hit him.

The small little lies. Avoiding all of them, even him for weeks now. Barely talking when you do answer the phone. The way you always sounded so tired and out of it.

It had something to do with what Asmo said about the hate mail.

“Hmm. The only thing I can think of was during the last normal conversation I had with them. They said something about receiving a piece of hate mail. They said it was no big deal, but I distinctly remember MC seemed flustered by it. Which I thought was weird, considering it’s definitely not the first one they’d received..”

Mammon didn’t even know that you’d been receiving that much hate mail. Sure, you’d told him about it a couple times, but he didn’t think it was that bad. Maybe it was actually pretty serious. Is that why you’d been so distant.

Mammon got up from his bed, and began pacing around the room. He almost had it figured out, he could feel it.

Asmo said MC seemed flustered, so it had to have somethin’ to do with the hate mail they received that day, since after that is when MC started actin’ weird.What if it’s somethin’ bad. Like, bad bad.

He stopped pacing.

The thought of MC being in danger was...

Mammon grabbed his jacket, where it was thrown onto the pool table and left his room in a hurry. He was on his way to Lucifer’s study, mentally preparing himself on the way. He was sure he knew what his brother’s answer would be, but he wasn’t going to just sit here. He needed to know that you were, in fact alright, with his own eyes.

I’m going to the human world. Whether Lucifer allows it or not.

| part two | | part three |

#obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #obey me #mammon x mc

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georgemackayhey · 4 years

Text

Hotter Than Summer

a/n: Remember when I promised more NSFW stuff? Yeah so this is by far the smuttiest thing I've ever written. Do Not interact with this is you're underaged. But if you're legal, have fun! 18+ only

w/c: 8k

───※ ·❆· ※───

Every year, you went on a trip with your family.

Your parents and siblings would cram into one car, and meet up with your neighbors in the countryside, under the same roof. A cabin that over looked a lake, that housed a forest, that wrapped all the way around to where you were.

You'd go in the dead of summer, when school let out. When the mosquitoes were rampant and the heat was crippling. You couldn't ever figure out what was so enjoyable about heading into the middle of no place to melt inside a rented home for a few weeks, but you went back each year. Of course, swimming in the lake was a blast and campefires at midnight were such fun. But that was mostly due to the fact that you got to spend such quality time with your favorite old neighbours.

Your fathers best university pal, and his wife only moved across the street when you were well into your high school career. But your dad was chuffed still to have his oldest friend one hop skip and jump away. Your mom was just as fond of the family, and soon you were sharing dinners and going to festivals and movies with them and their son, George.

When you met, you ignorantly assumed there was no way he wasn't a jock, or something equally as brain dead. No one with a face that pretty could possibly be smarter than a blade of grass.

But it wasn't long after they moved in, untill his parents asked you to show him around the school. And even though he was older and so vastly different from you, one morning, you found out George wasn't at all how you'd imagined. As you took him through the school halls, he went on and on about the theater program and marveled over your decently sized and poorly decorated library. He even thanked you for wasting your free break guiding him round to help him make sense of the schedule in his hands.

And after then, you had it bad. So that was precisely the reason you decided to steer clear. You gave small waves in the halls, and pretended not to scream internally when he sat next to you at lunch, every now and again. You went about your day pretending you were much more preoccupied with your other friends, and saved all your hopelessly romantic daydreams about George for your diary.

Until summer, of course. When you showed up to the cabin with your family and your siblings and some of their friends. George would be there, and you let yourself trail behind him like a puppy then. But he always asked for your company, really. He always dragged you to go swimming or to walk three miles to the nearest convenient shop for snacks. He'd sit next to you during rainy afternoon movie marathons and entertain all of your fireside ramblings.

But it had been three years since you'd spent a summer in the cabin. Your last time was the summer after you graduated. George's last time was two years prior, and nothing had quite been the same since.

///

You knew he wouldn't be there, this year. You should have been off, just as well, drinking till dawn or whatever else college kids wasted evenings doing.

His parents were there, though, and spent at least a minute each hugging you hello. After then, you trekked through the familiar home, up to the room you always claimed as your own, and you pretended not to feel dramatically sad. And for the next week, you sat around the fireside with your siblings, and laughed at their dumb jokes. You swam in the lake all alone. And you listened to George's parents yammer on about how proud they were of all his latest and most admirable achievements.

The last day of your visit, you sat alone in the sun room with a book, but only used it as a fan while you reminisced of all the times you'd sat doing the same before.

"I don't know why we come here when it's this hot." You sighed across the table full of left over breakfast food. Your family had migrated toward the back garden to play volleyball, but you couldn't be bothered trudging through the heat.

"I've always wanted to come in the autumn, watch the leaves change, make better use of all this firewood." You never did, because that's when school started and holidays were left to plan in for insufferable days like now.

George's mother was setting a pitcher of spiked punch on the table, something she made every year you'd been old enough to enjoy in her company.

"You know, it's so funny you say that." She grinned, shooting you a bright glance as she moved to pour you a drink.

"Our Geogre will be home this fall and he was asking about heading up to the cabin." She began. You used your book fan with a little more vigour.

"We, unfortunately, won't be able to make that happen of course, with his father's job and my plans of travelling before snowfall." She rambled, the ice in her drink clinking as she raised it to her lips. Your family's laughter rang muffled from beyond the glass wall of windows that made up the breakfast nook. And the heat, like a blanket over you. Like a pool you stayed trapped drowning in.

"You know- you kids should come here on your own! You're plenty old enough now to handle that responsibility and you always were such good friends. I bet Georgie would just love that." His mother's smile was audible in her tone and beaming from her face. You tried not to gawk at her, not to scrabble to sit straight. You casually lowered your leg from the arm of the chair and looked to the woman with a turn of your head.

"Oh I don't know, do ya think-"

"Yes, yes!" She interrupted with a furrowed brow like this was very serious. "I'm meant to call him later. I'll pass the idea along for you, love."

With a soft grin, her mind was made up. You shrugged, hoping it would make her believe you wouldn't be let down either way. But you'd never wanted anything more.

///

She got through to George, and apparently, according to his mother, he very excitedly accepted the plans. You weren't too sure that was entirely true, but you couldn't help but do a little happy dance behind the closed doors of your cabin bedroom. It was always as you left it, green quilt, matching rug, and the few framed albums you hung to make up for the bland wallpaper.

You left it, thrilled by the thought of returning in two months, and stayed glued to your phone till then. Geogre was meant to text you when the time crept nearer for your roughly made plans to become a little more organized.

You weren't sure what you were so excited for. He'd probably bring a girl, or a least mention one. There was no way he didn't have his pick of dozens vying for his attention. Still, the idea of spending a weekend in the cabin in such close quarters with your old crush was thrilling.

///

He texted you a month before you ended up planning to stay, and your exchange was jarringly short. George shot you a date and time. You agreed. Then he asked if you minded if a couple of his friends tagged along. And of course, you didn't. And that was that.

The summer dragged on, and at the first sign of autumn in the air you practically had all your bags packed.

When the time came, you gave your family quick goodbyes and arrived to the cabin a couple of hours early. The air was crisp, and the lake looked cold from your safe distance away. You breezed through the thin fog and smiled to yourself when you stepped into the place.

Everything was just how you'd left it. There were even still a few notes tapped to the refrigerator. You moved through the wooden structure and noticed how high the ceilings were for the first time in a while. And after washing a few sheets, and sorting out some of the food you'd brought for dinner, your solitude was interrupted.

There was a rattle at the door, and when it opened your heart stopped. He was here. George was all grown up. You hadn't seen him since the last time he came out here with the lot of you, the summer after he graduated. Years had passed, and now his hair was a little longer. He was a little leaner, a little taller, maybe. His nose was reddened by the cold but his smile was familiar. You tried not to gape at him and the way he seemed like an actual supermodel while he rested his bag by the door and looked to you, his grin growing wider.

"Hello, stranger." You smiled.

"Y/n!" He called with outstretched arms. You abandoned your place at the stove to accept his embrace and prayed he wouldn't be able to feel your quickened heartbeat.

"George." You beamed. Because he was your friend. At least, he had been once. His smile remained as he wrapped a strong arm around your middle and mumbled a hello right in your ear.

"Where are all your friends, then?" You cleared your throat, trying everything to keep your cool. Did he really have to speak so low in your ear? This weekend might prove to be incredibly awkward...

"Ah, yeah, one cancelled and the other might just as well. He said he'd keep me updated." George winced, running a hand across the back of his neck. "Hope you don't mind boring old me?"

"Of course not." You produced a chuckle. "I'm just making dinner."

And just like that, it felt like old times. George took over the kitchen for a bit, while you bickered over spices and seasonings. And in between stirring up an evening meal, George tucked his bags away in the room he'd always stayed in, and came back to help you set the table.

Conversation never lost its steady pace. George asked you about your budding life after highschool. He asked what you were doing for money and what you dreamed of doing for good. He laughed at some of your best stories and started to trade some of his own.

You'd always felt a bit intimidated by George, but worse now than ever before. He was musing about Hollywood and rambling about his life on movie sets. You nodded along, and watched George's pretty structured face light up as he spoke of his dreams and how some of them had come true.

When you'd finished dinner, your nerves really started up. Here the two of you were, all alone for the first time, maybe ever. There was always someone else near by in your knowing each other. Whether it be here, back home, or at school. You weren't sure how to handle all the empty space, so to occupy your time, you started a fire in the den. It was a cozy little room where everyone usually spent movie nights curled up on the small sofa. You liked to come here to read, when the sun shone brightly through the picture windows.

But it was dark now, and the fire was small. So you stuck nearby to help make it grow and wondered why you and Geogre were here. You wondered if his friend would ever show. You wondered if he'd ever really invited anyone at all.

"I brought beer, but there was some rum stashed away," George spoke himself into the room, holding a bottle and a glass in hand. He held each out to you, offering you take your pick. You picked the rum and thanked him for thinking you might've wanted a choice.

"I think I know you pretty well after all this time." George grinned, sitting on the floor in front of the fire. You were stood there, watching the flames flicker higher, and it took an internal debate for you to sit at his side. Were you making things weird or had they been weird on their own? Just moments ago you were mulling over how normal everything felt. Yeah, must'a just been you.

"I dunno," You huffed as you crossed your legs. "I've changed a lot since the days we used to tolerate each others company."

"Tolerate?" George chuckled. "We both know half our stays in this cabin were made most enjoyable by all the times we band together. We always had such fun."

"We did. Do you think we're too old now to have fun, this time around?" You asked, taking a sip of the rum he offered you. George stalled for a beat, like he was really considering the answer to your question. And then he looked at you and shook his head.

"I hope not." His lithe grin made your throat go dry. So you finished off your rum and stood for a refill. When you settled back in the den, George was halfway through his beer, and you got to talking about life again. He told you the scariest stories of his time away, and you reminisced about some of the traumas of life you and Geogre had been caught up in together when he was only one house away. George went for another beer, and you stayed watching the fire steadily burn.

He returned in silence and the quiet lingered for a long while, with both of you fixated not the flames.

"Remember when you said you'd let me stow away in your luggage when you left, so I could skip out on my physics finale?" You laughed into your drink. You felt George's eyes turn to search for your own, but you were still too deep in thought. "I failed that quiz, George. You were supposed to be my way out of this town."

"Hmm." George took a swig of his beer as you finished your second glass of rum. "Maybe that's why I've come back."

"That's rich." You chuckled and pointed a look to George. You couldn't hold back your nervous breaths of laughter now. Because he was watching you. His sea blue eyes seemed to search your face. You never recalled a time he looked at you with such undivided attention.

"What's so funny?" George rose a pale brow, taking another sip of beer. And as the answer formed on your lips, you blamed the rum entirely for your lack of critical thinking.

"I used to have the biggest crush on you." You admitted, turning a glance to George. His gaze had yet to break from your face, but you swore his smile grew ever so slightly. He furrowed his brow and shot you a sidelong look, like he didn't believe what you were saying.

"I did!" You laughed, the voice in your head reprimanding you for being so bold, as the words kept pouring out of your mouth. "You were my older, smoking hot neighbour boy. It was all very cliche but true." You shrugged. A blush burnt your cheeks and your mind suddenly caught up with your actions and you'd started to regret everything that had just transpired.

You mumbled a weary curse as you ducked your head away, hoping George wouldn't go on embarrassing you too much about this. You really hadn't planned to out yourself on the first night of your staying here with him. You hadn't planned to ever tell him that.

But George wasn't saying anything. He was just looking at you, like he had been. Like he was trying to figure you out. His eyes travelled from your face to search the reset of you. You watched George's gaze roam across your build while you tried not to combust in a self conscious worry. But the strange tension was too much not to break.

"What are you looking at me like that for?" You feared, hiding your bashful grin by lifting the nearly empty glass of rum to your lips.

"Because you're beautiful." George grinned, laughing a little like this was some big obvious fact.

"You're just tipsy." You shook your head, pointing to his empty bottle of beer and its half full replacement.

"No, you're just beautiful. You always have been." His tone grew more serious. You dared to catch his eye. The flames from a foot away were reflected in his gaze, and something else too. His eyes flicked away from yours to land on your lips. And his parted ever so slightly. If you hadn't dared to glimpse at his mouth, you wouldn't have noticed the way his jaw slacked.

His eye caught yours again and you realized he was moving closer. George was leaning in and your heart was beating a mile a minute and the fire seemed hotter than the dozen summers you'd wasted away here before.

His lips brushed yours before anything, and neither of you moved for a moment. His warm breath ghosted across your face and all your dreams seemed to suddenly come true as his mouth closed against yours.

Slowly, your lips started moving together. But they moved in perfect time, like they were made for it and waiting for this day to come true. George kissed you with a little more intent, as you kissed him back like you'd never get the chance to again. Because you had never once believed anything like this would happen with George. Maybe he was just tipsy. Or lonely. Or bored. You didn't care. You started to believe he had at least a little bit of actual interest in you, with the way he leaned closer and pressed his grip into your side. His tongue brushed against yours as his fingers started creeping closer to your chest. You wondered if he could feel your heart beating like a drum, and if his hand would ever reach its destination. You kissed him hard as encouragement, and he let out the sweetest whimper that would have made your eyes roll if they were open.

And then there was a knock at the door.

"Shit." You let out another nervous laugh, pulling away and catching your breath. You thought George's friends had all cancelled.

"I'm- I'm sorry." George shook his head, swiping hand at his lips and furrowing a brow at another knock on the door.

"Don't be?" You searched George's eyes for a moment and hoped he knew what you were asking. You hoped he watched as you hurried away. Had that really just happened? Had you just been bold enough to do the thing you'd wished of doing since sometime in high school? Was all the gentle passion in his kissing you back fueled by the drinks? Or had he really meant it?

The knocking kept on as you drifted closer. Geeze, for someone who wasn't sure about coming, they sure seemed excited to be here in the middle of the night. You adjusted yourself on the way to unlock the door, and tried not to blanch when you saw who was on the other side.

"Hi kids!" George's mother beamed, a bag in her arms. "My trip got cancelled and your folks weren't busy so we figured we'd come surprise you!"

The group of parents shuffled through the door. Your father toted a bottle of whiskey and your mother held a stack of films in her grasp. They each hugged you, and you scrambled to steady your tone.

"What a treat." You laughed through your teeth. The change in the pace of your evening could have given you whiplash.

"Oh, it's just like old times!" George's mother squealed, finding her son shuffling toward the kitchen to find what all the commotion was about.

"I suppose so." He grinned, accepting his mothers embrace and nodding as she explained that his father was too busy with work to crash the party. With all the tender sweetness you'd fallen for over the years, George said he understood but greeted his mother with kindness all the while. And as your parents rushed to pass hugs his way, George caught your eye. You wanted nothing more than to ask about the question in his gaze. But you feared your weekend with George wouldn't be as you'd once dreamed, like always.

///

You were glad to sit around the dying fire with your family. His mother's laugh was music to your ears. Your father's jokes had George doubled over with laughter. Your mother mused over and over about how glad she was for this surprise getaway.

And you couldn't be too upset, because you relished every moment you got to spend like this. Usually, this cabin was an escape, a place you could come without a care in the world. But now, there was a nagging little worry tumbling around your head, as everyone sat dragging the night on. Loose plans for the next day were made, talk of enjoying nature and making use of the big kitchen. You said something about sleeping in, because that was a rare occasion in your life these days. And here was a place where your wishes were supposed to be granted.

Your mother was the first to head to bed. The other adults decided to as well, but not before recruiting George to help clean up the kitchen neither of you had been very worried about taking total care of earlier in the evening.

You trudged up the stairs and took your turn in the shower, after wishing your mother a lovely night's sleep. She kept walking to the end of the hall, where she and your father enjoyed the best view just overtop of the forest of trees all around you.

While you washed up for the evening, your mind raced in every direction. What had just happened? And what was going to happen now? You'd been through all sorts of unexpected events with George, growing up. But never anything remotely close to... whatever this was. So far, this wasn't at all how you'd envisioned your long-awaited autumn visit in the countryside.

George's mother was soon making her way to bed too. She passed by as you opened the bathroom door and paused to give you a kiss on the cheek. You wished her goodnight and started your creep toward your own room. Before you could get there, George was walking with your father up the stairs, sharing chatter about a sports game from last year.

"Alright well, I'm off to clean up before bed." Your father noted, ruffling your hair on his way past. "Unless you need in here, George." Your father spun and pointed. There was another half bath downstairs, but the one on the second floor was the only one completed with a big shower and a separate tub.

"Ah, just holler when you're finished and I'll have a turn." George nodded as your father spun back toward the loo wishing you goodnight. You caught George's eye as you started back to your room, and prayed the creaking of the floorboard behind you were his footsteps and not just another one of your daydreams.

Sure, and strangely enough, a set of fingers curled around your wrist before you passed through your doorway.

"I believe we have some unfinished business." His voice muttered over your shoulder. Holy shit. How was this happening?

You didn't have time to waste questioning any longer. You only pulled George into the room you'd come to call your own, and shut the door with a gentle click that wouldn't cause any unwanted attention. No sooner than you had, George was on you.

His lips captured yours in a flash, like you'd been lost at sea and were only just being reunited. You threw your arms around his neck and barely held back a shocked giggle when George pulled you flush against him. You could have spent forever this way, in George's strong embrace, sharing the same breath.

He kissed you dizzy and spun you toward the wall. His hands found your chest at long last and he sighed against your mouth as you pulled him closer best you could. His hips pressed into yours and his hand trailed down your front, till his fingers stalled at the button of your sleep shorts.

"Can I?" He asked in a husky breath, looking right at you. You raised a brow, and gave him a nod, only just attempting to catch your breath. You could hardly believe it. But you'd never been more sure. George kept an eye on you for a beat, as you pressed your teeth to your lower lip. And when his hand started to move, you couldn't help but smile.

"Do you have any idea how badly I've always wanted to do this?" George asked, breathing in your ear as his hand disappeared below the fabric of your shorts. "For how long I've dreamed of having my way with you?" A shiver shot through you as he nipped at your neck. It was all very overwhelming. His word. His lips. His fingers, steadily starting to trace all the right places.

"Holy shit, George." You whined, gripping his shoulder for support from melting into a puddle on the floor.

"What? Am I doing alright?" He asked in a snide way, keeping his mouth pressed below your ear, and pressing his fingers against you with more vigour. Your breath caught at the feeling and George hummed happily against your throat. His fingers travelled further, deeper, till there was no place left for them to go. And when he set his digits into motion, you couldn't help but let out a noise, a small broken cry that tore George's focus from your neck right to you. His fingers stopped moving and his free hand reached your jaw. He held your face in his grasp and seemed to stall a question on his lips. Then with a breath, George asked,

"You're not gonna keep quiet are you?" At the same moment he'd decided your reaction, his fingers started moving again, and his hand that held your jaw moved to cover your mouth.

"Still try, darling, this cabin isn't very big you know?" George grinned, putting his fingers to good use. Your eyes rolled back, and tried as you might, another cry escaped your throat when George picked up his pace. His one hand stayed firm over your mouth as he worked you up and whispered sinful encouragement in your ear. When you could barely feel the floor under your feet, a noise came from the hall. A knock on a distant door.

You groaned as George stalled, and chuckled at your disappointment. His free hand slid down to your throat and his fingers gently curled around there as his eyes watched yours. From behind your door and down the way you heard your father.

"George! Showers free. And don't forget to see your alarm. We're still hiking at dawn!"

You could have cried, really, when you realized your night of fun was halted till further notice. George slipped his fingers from your shorts as you sucked in a breath and let it out like a sigh.

"Don't worry love," George cooed. "I plan on taking good care of you... eventually." The fingers he'd been using found their way to your mouth. You watched his pretty blue eyes flutter as you wrapped your lips and swirled your tongue around his knuckles. You swore he almost reconsidered his leave. But then George straightened and backed away with a clenched jaw and a smile on his lips.

"Get some rest. We're hiking in the morning!" He announced with a wink as he reached for the handle of your door.

"Oh, fuck you." You grinned, feeling empty and full of fire all at once.

"With any luck." George said, before shutting the door behind him.

///

"It's too high!" You worried, searching for a broad rock to step down onto. You and your family had found yourselves at the top of the trail that wound through the forest. But had decided to take a different route back down, around the lake.

"Here look, step there." George spoke up, from the bottom of the path that was broken up. He pointed to a patch of dirt you envisioned crumbling the moment you relied on it. Your mother tutted, and moved past you to take George's advice. Your lovely neighbour extended his hand to your mother who managed her way to safety with his help. Your father followed, helping George's mother, until you were the last one left.

They all stared up at you as you bit your nails and mulled over your game plan.

"Right- we're walkin' on. Get her off, George." Your father waved and turned to follow your mother and George's, who were already ahead gossiping about some tv show. You struggled to hide your blush as Geogre shifted his weight and grinned up to you.

"Do you trust me?" He asked.

"Obviously." You pointed. George reached out, and you held your breath, and stepped where everyone else had. George's hand was strong, but your prediction came true. As you balanced your weight on the patch of dirt, it began to give way. But George was there. He swept you away with ease and balanced you on both feet on the same level of ground as him.

"Did you just want me to save you all along?" George mused, keeping his arms snug around you as you stood.

"Come on." You bit back a smile and pushed George to lead the way, noticing your folks posed for a self at the opening of a man-made bridge.

You all walked on, till you spotted a weather-worn gazebo near the opening of the lake. The sun was unusually bright for the seasons, though a chill balanced in the air. Your gang stalled to rest in the small enclosure and laughed about the adventure you'd been on, and how none of you had ever realized this little nook was out here in all the years you'd been staying right around the bend.

George's mother was the first to head in, saying something about a midday nap. You didn't blame her. You all really had risen with the sun to enjoy the trails before a late lunch. Your mother was next to leave, mentioning just that. Her plans to make a big ridiculous afternoon meal that would likely count as some kind of dinner, too. Your father followed after her, paranoid about the trek from out of the woods alone.

George stayed and shot you a look as you watched everyone walk away, and turn around the lake. And for a moment, you just talked. Like how you always used too. About life and death and everything in between. All while each pause between topics grew long and heavy. Soon, you rose from the bench, tired of sitting, but excited to find yourself lingering out here in the sole company of the man you'd been dreaming of keeping all to yourself.

"Do you prefer it here in the summer, or now?" You wondered aloud, because you really wanted to know. The area you'd come to know so well seemed like a different world in the cold.

George followed your ambling, back down the skinny trail from where you'd just come. He waited to respond until he stepped to face you and stalled your meander.

"Now." George smiled, searching your eyes and pushing his nose against yours. The action made your heart flutter and your fists curl in the pockets of your jacket. Then he kissed you so tenderly, like you'd kissed thousands of times before and he was used to the sensation. You, however, were still dazzled by it. Your hands flew up and clung to the jacket he'd left unzipped. You kissed him back like this was your last chance to prove how badly you'd always wanted too. At your fervour, George snaked his arms around you. One of his hands tangled in your hair as his other trailed to your backside.

You had no excuse to hold back your pleased sighs, as George pressed against you, digging his fingers into your thigh and pulling it nearer to his hip. Your own hands started to wander, right between his legs. George let out a groan as you pressed your palm against his tight jeans, and you thought of doing it again just to hear his reaction. But you had something better in mind.

You broke your kiss and grabbed both of George's hands. He watched as you dragged him a little deeper into the green, and fell against a wide tree when you pushed his toward it.

When you started to fiddle with his belt buckle and bend your knees, George flushed and gapped at you.

"Here?" He asked with a nervous grin, looking much more innocent and shy than he'd appeared last night. Maybe ever.

"Would you rather trade bakewell recipes, George?" You asked with a snicker, sitting back against your heels and peering up to him. "We really don't have to, though." You spoke again with a serious nod, making sure he knew you really didn't want to do anything he didn't want to. But damn, you really wanted this.

"I'd really like if we did." George swallowed, and your grin stretched back to life. "I was just surprised is all."

"Why? Don't you think I'd like to show you as good a time as you started to show me last night?" You unzipped his trousers and kept your gaze fixed to George.

"I promise to make it up to you." He breathed as you started to pull at his boxers.

"You already are." You assured, just before the time for talk had ceased. Your mouth had better things to do.

When George lost his fingers in your hair, and tugged, you were motivated to deepen your interaction. Then you got to hear the way George whined and hissed and cursed your name under his breath. Even if you could reach your free hand to his lips, you couldn't dream of keeping George quiet. His sounds were the sweetest encouragement you'd ever known.

You stayed on your knees until your efforts paid off. Then you helped George pull his trousers back in shape as you rose to meet him, and were pleasantly surprised when he grabbed your face and kissed you. But when his hand started to trail below your waste you broke your kiss and shook your head.

"We don't have time." You sighed, brushing back some of George's unkempt blonde waves.

"But-" His perfect pale brows furrowed and his thumb brushed your cheek.

"It's okay. We'd better get going." You nodded. George nodded too, but then stole another quick kiss. It made you wonder what this was about. It made you wonder what George thought of you, and what he thought of you with him. You didn't let yourself wonder long. The sky was starting to darken with clouds. So you brushed the dirt from your knees and let George lead the way back to the cabin, biting back your broad grin every time he turned to make sure you were close behind.

///

The next morning was spent lazing about the breakfast table as a drizzle locked you all in. Your parents were each still in the kitchen, arguing over cinnamon rolls and other breakfast treats.

"I always wanted to come here to watch the leaves change." You piped up, setting a steaming coffee mug to the side, with your gaze stuck out the rain covered window. George sat by your side, with his head in the crook of his elbow on the table.

"We must have come too early in the year." You sighed, searching for a glimpse of orange or yellow in the distance. All you saw was brown and green against a dull grey sky.

"Well," George spoke up, quietly so. You lowered your eyes to find his, and fixated on his small grin. "That just means we'll have to come back."

"Yeah?" You hesitated to ask. What had he meant? Why had he said so? George only rested his hand on your thigh below the table, tracing patterns on your knee with his thumb. You kept your gaze on him and realized you had fallen hard and fast.

You'd always had it bad for George, but with all this new and very exciting attention he'd been giving you, it was game over. You'd thought of nothing but George each night you fell asleep one room over. Your heart practically leapt out of your rib cage every time you caught his eye across the room, since the beginning of the weekend.

But you didn't understand it. Neither of you talked about what you'd done or mentioned doing anything quite like it again. You just waited up in empty halls and hoped he'd come around the corner in the least suspicious amount of time possible.

But today was hard. Today you couldn't sneak out in the woods, or around the corner. You were trapped in by rain, and if you and George snuck behind closed doors there wouldn't be a question as to why, and that would be utterly embarrassing.

So you sat across from George as your father rallied everyone around an old tattered board game. You caught George's eye as your parents bickered over game rule, and wondered what he was thinking as his pretty blue gaze locked on yours.

When you followed your mother's instructions to go and find a stack of movies in her room, George's mother shuffled off to go make snacks. So your favourite pretty blonde said something about taking a shower, and followed as you trekked up the stairs. But no sooner than you found the stack of movies, and George lingered outside of the bathroom did your father spin into the hall in search of his glasses.

You and George only got to share a look before he shut the bathroom door, and your father recruited you to help in his hunt.

As you all curled up for a movie marathon, Geogre helped you pour everyone a drink. While he reached for a set of glasses, he sneaked past you with one hand grazing your lower back for as long as he could get away with.

And when your parents took residence on the love seat and his mother kicked back in the chair, you and George were left to make the floor comfortable. You dumped all the extra blankets in front of the coffee table and sat a few inches away from George while some romcom played on. It was almost painful, how close he was without being able to reach out. What a strange turn of events.

His mother fell fast asleep by the second film, and your parent's dozed off by the third.

And as the last film played on, you felt George's hand creeping closer to yours. His fingers fit between your own, and his thumb brushed against your knuckles every now and again, as you sat holding hands.

You hadn't really seen that coming. You hadn't known what to expect of this whole thing with George, but an innocent lasting touch wasn't it. All the questions you'd always wondered were louder and scarier as the movie dragged on.

And when it was over, George walked you up the stairs. You kept quiet as not to wake your parents, and watched as he moved in the dark. When he stalled in the doorway of your room, you gazed up to him with a pushed in brow. Then he kissed you. Just a gentle, lingering peck. He left you in your doorway with that, and you stayed up staring at your ceiling wondering why.

///

Your parents left the next morning. They hadn't planned too. But your father got a call from work and since they'd all arrived as a group they decided to leave that way. You had awoken early and found yourself staring at the pages of a book when your mother bustled down the stairs to let you know.

"We'll see you kids at the start of the week!" George's mother waved on her way out of the door. She hoped you'd both enjoy the last day of the weekend in the cozy little place you'd always come back to.

Your parents scrambled to pack their things and followed her out of the door in a dazed rush, rambling about how they wished they didn't have to leave as they headed to the door.

Just like that the cabin was quiet, more so than you'd ever noticed, even when you'd been the only one creeping through the halls. You had no idea what to expect. You didn't want to get your hopes up. And you didn't want to make this already strange situation even weirder. So you took to doing the dishes at the sound of your parents peeling out of the gravel drive. You scrubbed every plate and focused on every soap bubble to stall time as you thought up what to say.

One of you had to say something, right?

When the staircase finally creaked, you'd finished the leftover dishes and were nearly done sorting the last of them away. George stretched into the room, looking around to realize the cabin was missing your surprise guests.

"Dad got called into work. You just missed telling everyone goodbye." You shrugged, meeting George's eye for a moment before you spun to put the last dish away. You listened as he softly floated toward the space you occupied yourself.

"So I finally get you all to myself then?" George seemed to really ask. He looked tired, still. But there was a gentle smile on his face, some kind of hopeful glaze painted over his features. George reached out to you, both of his hands softly holding your face. He peered at you, searching your features as his thumb traced your bottom lip.

"You really wanna spend the rest of this weekend with me?" You wondered, ducking your head as a twinge of fear started to take hold. But Geogre straightened your gaze once more, he made you look at him as he chose his words.

"I'd like to spend much longer than just this weekend with you," He spoke gently like every word was precious. You couldn't possibly think of what to say. You could only smile. You grinned without holding back and watched as George shut his eyes and kissed you.

You kissed him back and decided the pouring rain was cause enough to start a fire. George trailed behind you on your mission to throw a few logs in the fireplace. When you turned from sparking a flame, you watched George settle onto the floor that was still a mess with blankets and pillows from last night's movie marathon. He reached up to you, fingers moving from their latch on your wrist to press into your sides as he pulled you right into his lap.

Just like that his arms were around you and his mouth opened against yours. The fire was nice, but the warmth coming from George was heavenly. You moved your kisses to his neck, relishing the way his pulse beat under your touch. You trailed your lips back across his jaw until you were kissing him again, and dissolving in his strong hold.

You held his face in your hands as your mouths moved together, and only released your grasp to raise your hands over your head as George lifted your sweater up and away. His kisses trailed across your exposed skin, to the swell of your breasts, while his fingers managed to unclasp your bra. With your knees on either side of his hips, you rocked against George, feeling more desperate for his touch than ever.

"Are you sad your friends ditch you?" You asked in a breath with a smile and George was busy pressing his tongue to your skin. You felt him smile, and the warmth of a chuckle escape him.

"Are you glad our parents came and ruined our chances of spending the whole weekend this way?" George shot back, as you pulled his shirt away. You rolled your eyes and pushed George back against a stack of pillows, reaching for his belt. You laughed as he kicked his trousers away and pulled you down for a kiss, like he couldn't fathom parting from you for a second.

You spent a while wrapped up in his tangled limbs- kissing him, trailing your fingers against his burning skin, rocking against each other while the last of your layers kept you from doing what you really wanted.

"You know, I always had a crush on you, too." George propped himself up on both elbows as you'd started to pull his boxers away. You paused your mission for a moment to look at him. His half-lidded gaze and the mess of his hair. The marks starting to darken on near his throat, from you. He was more beautiful each new time you caught a glimpse, it seemed.

"Sentiment not required, but appreciated." You grinned as George sat up, free of the last of his clothes, reaching to free you of your own with his sea blue eyes on yours all the while.

"I did." He rose a brow, and something about his confirming so made your heartache, as it already beat like a drum. You brushed back his tousled waves and searched George's face for approval. He blinked up at you, totally enraptured. You could have stayed in this paused state forever and you swore he might have been content, too. But you couldn't wait any longer. You'd waited long enough.

When you lowered yourself into George's lap, you watched his eyes close and his jaw slack. A sigh escaped his lips, like he was totally relieved. And not just by the pressure you'd both felt now, but by the build-up of this whole weekend. Like something from very deep within him was finally settled. You might have laughed a little at that state of him if you weren't feeling the same. You'd never felt so safe. A strange word for a time like now, but the only word that seemed to fit.

Neither of you moved for a while. At first, you'd focused on settling into the feeling. Then you became totally distracted, brushing back George's hair and peppering his face with kisses. His hands stayed loose around your sides and his nose nudged your own in a way that made your heart sing.

"As much as I love this, I really would like if you moved a little, dove." George cooed in your ear and kneaded his fingers into your hips hoping you'd get the hint.

So you did what he said, and rolled against him. George kept his grip firm as he let out one of those melodious groans of his. You picked up the pace then, not daring to hold back your own hums as George's eyes opened to find yours.

You shared another kiss as you found your rhythm, but couldn't keep it up for long. Your lips parted but lingered close to his when you couldn't hold back a broken cry.

George wrapped an arm around your middle and moved swiftly to lay you down. You watched as he loomed over you and searched your features like he did the first night here. You were in the same place as you had been when you confessed your stupid crush. And you were in the same spot you had been when he kissed you for the first time. And when he closed the distance between you once more, it felt better than ever.

You pressed your heels into his back and tried to tell him how fucking great he was at this, but incoherent mumbles were all you could manage.

"That good, huh?" George strained, barely getting the words out himself. But the little laugh that followed his statement seemed easy and sweet. As if you weren't feeling enough, your heart threatened to burst. Everything felt near bursting, actually.

"It's okay, baby." His saccharine voice rang in your ear as he somehow pushed you deeper into the mess of blankets. "It's just you and me now, and you feel so fucking good. You can let go now, love. I wanna feel you to let go."

He could have kept up talking that way and you'd fall to pieces in no time. But when his hand travelled below your stomach you nearly k.o'ed. Between the things he spoke just to you, the way he paused talking to curse a little, and the rhythm of his hips against yours, it didn't take long until you came undone. He kept you pinned in place until you nearly couldn't see straight until it seemed he couldn't either. When it was all said and done, neither of you moved for a moment. You were less irked by the fact you could have been doing that all weekend, and more moonstruck by the reality that it'd happened at all.

///

It wasn't long before you decided to get cleaned up, but it took awhile to get to the bathroom. George stopped you in the hallway to do everything over again, somehow better than the first time. He stopped you from finding clean clothes to pin you to the bed you'd called your own. You tangled your fingers in his hair as he made his way between your thighs, and made you forget all about doing anything else for the rest of the evening.

And when you finally made it to the bathroom, he followed you into the warm bath. But there, you only relaxed. The water soothed your aching muscles, and the whiskey your dad left behind was passed over the bubbles as you and George sat together till the water grew cold. You talked as you cleaned yourself up, about things you'd always talked about before. You watched as George changed into a pair of joggers you recognized from days gone by. You let him wrap you up in a towel and hold you close in the steam-filled bathroom, and you decided it was paradise.

Your night went on like normal. Like most nights had, in the cabin. You made dinner, and joked about the time your siblings nearly burnt the place down making cookies during a heatwave. And after you ate, you left the dishes for another day, like always. Then you followed George to the den, and watched as he turned the telly on to some slasher marathon. Your autumn dreams were alive and well, as you curled up on the sofa at his side.

You stayed happily tucked against him, one arm and leg across his frame. One of his strong arms nearly pulled you on top of him in an effort to cuddle close as possible. You nuzzled your face into his neck when something especially upsetting flashed across the screen. And eventually, the comfort of his secure hand splayed across your head, and his other arm holding you firmly in place, sent you into the most peaceful sleep you must have ever slipped into.

///

"Wake up, love."

Your eyes were heavy, and your limbs ached. The blankets felt so warm in the morning cold, and George's breath tickled your ear.

"My darling, wake up." He said again, tracing a finger along your jaw as your eyes fluttered open.

"M'up." You sighed, focusing on George's pretty face, his brilliant blue eyes and the easy smile on his full lips. You realized he wasn't curled close, but kneeling at your side like he'd been up for a while now.

"Come and see." His smile widened as he grabbed your hand and tugged you to stand. You pushed in your brows and only sat up so quickly because of George's unusual excitement. He kept your hand in his and dragged you across the room to the fog tinted windows. What time was it? George moved you to the clearest view, and snaked his arms around your middle from behind.

You rubbed your eyes and looked. And past the mist, you saw the trees. Among the usual green and grey, you saw spots of dark red and orange starting to appear. The further you looked the more colours you noticed, and then you realized George had noticed before you.

"Now we know." He mumbled in your ear, as you tore your gaze from the stunning view to look over your shoulder. George really did get prettier with every glance. And now you knew, indeed. You knew how he felt, and you knew you'd get to go home with him as more than neighbours. You knew the perfect time to come back to this cabin, too, when the colours were brightest and the fire's warmth would be most coveted. And you knew George would come back with you. The only thing you weren't sure of was which room you'd stay in together, in all the years to come.

───※ ·❆· ※───

#george mackay #george mackay fanfic #george mackay imagine #george mackay x reader

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lazyneonrabbitt · 3 years

Text

Paintings & picture frames. [Pt. 2]

Daryl Dixon x Reader [Pt.1] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7]

Time for art college classes!

Your partner’s name was Daryl Dixon, a photography student.

After spending, in your opinion, way too much time looking for your partner and asking ever student with a camera their name you needed a break from people and went outside mumbling to yourself about how you were ever going to find your study partner. Being so deep in thought you didn’t watch where you were going and ran into someone.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry!” You exclaimed before looking up and seeing the guy that ran into you yesterday. You saw he also had a partner program paper sticking out from his bag. “You found your partner yet?” He shook his head and took a drag from his cigarette. “Nah, ain’t doin that shit.” He took the paper from his bag and crumpled it up into a ball before throwing it at you and walking off. “Let them know they’re gonna need a new one.”

Unfolding the paper you checked the name on his paper to see if you happened to know the student paired up with this asshole. You weren’t happy when you read your own name on his paper. “Ah great..” you sighed and ran after him. “Yo, Dixon! Wait up!”

He stopped and turned around. “The fuck you know my name? It ain’t on the paper” you stopped in front of him, holding your own paper to his face. “It is on mine. Now why aren’t you joining the assignment?” You weren’t gonna let this guy ruin your first week for whatever reason he was gonna come up with. He clearly got the hint as he sighed and motioned for you to follow him. You both walked past the building to the parking lot, past all the cars to the bike spaces where he stopped at one that was more of a pile of mismatched parts than an actual bike. “So, are you gonna tell me or what?” You asked as he tied his bag to his bike and grabbed another cigarette. “If ya were from around here I wouldn’t have to tell ya. Never heard o’ me before?”

Why wasn’t he just answering the question. “Well I’m obviously not from here so either you tell me or suck it up and work with me for two days.” You shoved your paper at him again. “After that you can go back to being your sad, loner self. Deal?” You had to make sure this worked and you had a good starting week. You weren't gonna let anyone ruin that for you. Daryl realized this and decided it would be for the best if he’d get this partner project done with someone who doesn’t think bad of him yet.

“Ya okay.” Was all he mumbled before grabbing your paper and pen from your hands and signed his name before holding the pen towards you. “C’mon. Ain’t got all day.”

You took the pen and signed your name on the crumpled paper. “Want me to go hand them in?” Holding out your hand, you were kind of expecting him to hand over the paper and leave without saying much more, but instead he kindly thanked you for offering and agreed to meet you back here in the morning to properly start the day.

Surprised you left for the large hall to hand in your papers and head back home for an early end of your day.

You spent the most of yesterday evening wondering what kind of classes you were going to have during your one day of studying photography since you never talked about it with Daryl. You thought of him on your way to college, wondering if he was gonna show up at all or if you were even allowed to still take your photography classes when your partner wasn’t with you.

Your worries were quickly dismissed when a motorcycle passed you at the school gate and you noticed a set of wings you caught a glimpse of yesterday as you followed he rumbling sounds to their destination.

Since work was on your way you picked up a large thermos of your favorite coffee, freshly brewed by your boss who had just opened up for the early customers. You offered Daryl one of the cups and he accepted it with a small hesitation and a confused look on his face. He mumbled a quick thanks before grabbing a cigarette and taking a swig of coffee. “Hm. ‘Sgood coffee.” He hummed happily.

You accepted the now empty cup back in surprise, all while you were currently trying not to burn your mouth with the hot beverage. You nodded in agreement. “My boss brewed it this morning, she makes it the best in my opinion.” He raised an eyebrow at you as to ask for more on the subject as he took a last drag of his cigarette and put it out on the trashcan outside the entrance.

“I work at that diner near the edge of town, the one at the trailer park entrance? I live on my own so I needed a job and this pays he bills plus extra.” You weren’t given much of a verbal response, just an acknowledging nod and a soft hum.

You walked the rest of the way to Daryl and your’s first class of the day in silence and only discussed the study material during the lecture. You had exchanged phone numbers over the course of the day and both went your own ways during lunch breaks. At the end of the day you said your goodbyes and went home without much friendly chatter.

You worked again that evening, serving all kinds of people and discussing with Tiana, the nice coworker, who the strangest customer of the day was. During cleanup you talked about school and how your assignment with Daryl was going. She questioned your head off about him, hoping to get some gossiping done during her shift but you explained that there wasn’t much to talk about since he barely spoke.

“Really, all I know is that he has amazing photography skills, drives a motorcycle to school every day and his last name’s Dixon.” She shot up from her seat at that name. “Dixon? As in that woman that burned down her entire house with a cigarette bud Dixon? Or the only person that got banned for assaulting a waitress here? Or maybe the old man that comes in to threaten our staff because our smokes vending machine ran out of his favorite brand..”

You weren’t sure how to respond to all of that. Was this why Daryl was so quiet and didn’t want to work with anyone before? There was no way you were gonna ask him about something so personal after only knowing him for such a short time. Honestly you were hoping you’d just forget about it all in the morning.

#twd #the walking dead #twd daryl #daryl dixon #daryl #twd x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #twd au #college au #norman reedus #no walkers au #sometimes i write

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longitudinalwaveme · 3 years

Text

Longitudinalwaveme Reviews More Old Comics (and One New One), Part 1

I’m going to be doing these reviews in chronological order, starting with the oldest of the bunch.

Batman #292: “The Testimony of the Riddler”

This issue is actually the second part of a four-part story, “Where Were You On the Night Batman Was Killed?” Basically, everyone thinks Batman is dead, and a bunch of his villains are coming forward to claim the honor of being his killer. Catwoman’s claim was dismissed last issue; now it’s Riddler’s turn.

The mock trial that the villains have set up to determine the identity of the killer is amazing. Ra’s al Ghul is the judge, Two-Face is the prosecutor, and the jury is composed of the Mad Hatter, Poison Ivy, Mr. Freeze before B:TAS gave him a good costume, Scarecrow, the Signalman (*snicker*) and the Spook, who I only know as the D-Lister beheaded by Damian Wayne.

The Riddler begins his testimony, regaling everyone with riddles (some of which seem more like jokes, but whatever), and telling them about a crazy criminal caper he launched, during which time he posed as Bruce Wayne in order to steal a ridiculous jeweled typewriter ( “made of gold, platinum, and ivory...its keys studded with diamonds and rubies...its ribbon made from a Ming Dynasty robe....and its case encrusted with emeralds!”).

Amusingly, since Riddler doesn’t know Bruce Wayne is Batman, his Batman is not at all surprised to come across “Bruce Wayne” at the party. Batman ends up following the Riddler’s clues to find the Riddler and the ridiculously fancy typewriter in a quarry, whereupon the Riddler uses a knife he has to cut a rope that was holding some rock slabs. According to Riddler, the slabs fell on Batman, pinning him. Riddler then blew him up with dynamite (which he set off using a latern’s flames).

As soon as he finishes his testimony, Two-Face calls him a liar; gets permission to take the entire court outside, sets up a deathtrap using the dynamite Riddler claims he used to kill the Batman, and orders the bailiffs to tie Riddler to the trap and light it all on fire.

They do, and the Riddler promptly passes out. Two-Face then walks onto the trap himself, and nothing happens. As Two-Face explains, “dynamite does not explode in fire! It can be lighted only by electric spark or percussion!”

Riddler is eliminated as a potential candidate and escorted from the courtroom (with an apparent $25,000 fine for the dynamite display).

Several other claimants retract their claims, and Ra’s adjourns the court for the day.

Also, Bronze Age Riddler makes a surprisingly convincing Bruce Wayne, all things considered (this was back when he still had black hair; rather than red).

Batman #293, “Luthor’s Testimony”

This issue takes up immediately where the last one left off, with Lex Luthor of all people taking the stand in the costume you can see in the picture above. It’s...certainly something, all right.

Cluemaster, Killer Moth, the Cavalier, and some random gangsters are also at the trial. Most are impressed by Luthor’s amazing(ly hilarious) new outfit, which I’m pretty sure he only ever wore once (for this trial).

Luthor does his usual grandstanding before launching into the story of his latest plot to kill Superman.

Said plot involved a fake robbery to lure Batman into a trap that would allow Luthor to put Superman’s mind into Batman’s body.

Luthor then punched Superman-in-Batman’s-body to death and launched the body into space. Luthor says that now he’s leaving to go back to Metropolis, where he’ll put his own mind into Superman’s body so that he may become Super-Luthor.

Two-Face proceeds to demolish Luthor’s story, first by calling in one of Luthor’s goons to reveal that Batman had infiltrated Luthor’s gang by posing as a henchman, and then calling in Superman himself to prove that, in fact, Superman’s mind is still in its body. Superman just dressed up as Batman and pretended to be Superman-in-Batman’s-body to fool Luthor.

Exposed as a liar, Luthor storms out of the room, but not before yelling at Two-Face for “colluding with Superman” and insulting the criminal pretensions of everyone in the room.

Also, Two-Face somehow managed to convince Superman to grant every villain in the courtroom amnesty. (Although if I’m remembering the fourth part of the story properly, I think “Two-Face” is really Batman in disguise, explaining why he was so easily able to get into contact with Superman and probably making the amnesty fake.)

The comic ends with the Joker’s signature laughter; he’ll be the last villain to give testimony in front of the kangaroo court. Sadly, I don’t have that issue, so I won’t be reviewing it here.

Batman #296, “The Sinister Straws of the Scarecrow”

Scarecrow has henchmen he calls “Strawmen”. They have weird costumes and exist to give him someone to deliver all his lectures to and test his fear gas on. As usual, his speeches to his underlings sound...well...like simplified college psychology lectures.

Otto the burly henchman’s deepest fear is Batman. What a surprise.

Phobias namedropped by the Scarecrow (and narration boxes): phobophobia (the fear of fear), pyrophobia (fear of fire), algophobia (fear of pain), pathophobia (fear of illness), taphephobia (the fear of being buried alive), inutilophobia (the fear of not being able to carry on one’s work) and “chiropterhomopobia”. The last is especially interesting since it’s not actually a real word; it’s a fictional one that manages to effectively follow the formula used for naming phobias. “Chiropterophobia” is the fear of bats. “Homophobia”, in this case, is the fear of men (homo referring to our species name, homo sapiens); therefore chiropterhomophobia would be the fear of bat-men. Good work with conjugation there, writer!

Anyway, the Scarecrow uses a crook named Skibo’s taphephobia to convince him to give them the location of the turnpike bond money he stole from Gotham City’s National Bank several months ago.

The next day at the bank, the money is returned, puzzling Bruce Wayne. Wayne goes to interrogate a crook who talks in confusing criminal slang, who tells him that Skibo was the one who fenced the stolen bonds.

Batman tracks Skibo down...and finds him being assaulted by the Scarecrow, who believes that the bonds he returned to the bank were counterfeit. This is problematic for the Scarecrow because it suggests that Skibo was able to withstand his fear of the Scarecrow and disobey his orders, which would interefere with his ability to intercept criminals who are obeying his orders to return stolent money and take the money for himself.

Batman, Skibo, Scarecrow, and his goons get into a free-for-all that ends up causing an explosion. In the chaos, Scarecrow and the goons escape and Batman gets information out of Skibo about the Scarecrow’s plans.

Scarecrow and his goons then go after a thief who stole a valuable Gutenberg Bible, but before they can use the fear toxin on him, Batman shows up and they use it on him instead. It affects Batman, but he shakes it off and manages to defeat the Scarecrow and his goons as well as capture the thief who stole the Guetenberg Bible.

The story ends with Batman telling Commissioner Gordon that he found the case exhilarating.

All-in-all, a pretty standard Scarecrow story.

Batman #308, “There’ll Be a Cold Time in the Old Town Tonight”

Some guy named Jacob Riker has betrayed Mr. Freeze. The man in question is promptly murdered by Freeze and his henchmen.

In this issue, Mr. Freeze is wearing an outfit that’s reminiscent of Captain Cold’s, but with a bubble-helmet and pink shades.

Catwoman shows up in Bruce Wayne’s office to tell him that she’s reformed and wants to invest money in Wayne Enterprises. Bruce agrees, and also agrees to meet her for dinner at some point next week. She also brings a cat with her to this meeting, because of course she does.

Lucius Fox introduces Bruce Wayne to his daughter, Tiffany, who works in a drug rehabilitation program sponsored by the Wayne Foundation. After exchanging pleasantries, Bruce tells Lucius to give him a complete rundown on what Selina’s been up to, presumably so that he can know if she’s on the level.

He moons over Catwoman for a bit before getting called into action by the Batsignal, and he subsequently arrives at the scene of Riker’s murder. The guy is frozen solid and very dead.

Some rich guy name Mr. McVee comes to Mr. Freeze; he’s exchanging all his wealth in exchange for the promise of immortality.

Unfortunately, the process turns the man into a Popsicle zombie. His body is alive, but his brain is dead.

Also, Mr. Freeze has a girlfriend named Hildy, whom he loves and is planning to make immortal (as he himself effectively is). Unfortunately for him, she does not reciprocate his feelings and is using him solely as a means of staying young forever. Interestingly, she’s blonde, just like Nora usually is (Nora, of course, didn’t exist at the time this was written).

Meanwhile, at STAR labs, a medical treatment goes wrong and kills somebody.

Batman finds and breaks into Mr. Freeze’s hideout...and is promptly attacked by Mr. Freeze and his Popsicle zombies. Mr. Freeze dubs them his “Ice Pack”.

Mr. Freeze manages to take Batman out of the fight by freezing his legs, which causes him to fall to the floor. This allows him to be captured by the Popsicle Zombies and put inside Mr. Freeze’s immortality machine.

Batman is apparently turned into another mindless Popsicle zombie as Mr. Freeze exposits about how lonely his life is and how much he loves Hindy.

Mr. Freeze leaves Hildy in the room with the Popsicle zombies, at which point Hildy starts to talk to Batman about how she thinks he’s cute and she’d rather be immortal with him rather than with Freeze (who she’s planning to kill in any case).

Unfortunately for her, Mr. Freeze overhears her and is predictably furious, pointing his Freeze Ray directly at her face.

Batman saves her from an icy fate by attacking Mr. Freeze, revealing as he does so that he had only pretended to be frozen by the machine (having disconnected several of the building’s extra power lines). Cue another fight with Freeze and the Popsicle Zombies.

Batman uses a piece of ice to break Freeze’s bubble helmet; preventing him from giving any more orders to the Popsicle Zombies. He then fights Freeze some more. The Freeze Ray goes flying and gets grabbed by Hildy, who plans to kill both of them. Unfortunately, the gun backfires on her and she’s killed instead. Mr. Freeze is arrested.

Meanwhile, we learn that the dead guy was the Blockbuster, Mark Desmond, and that he isn’t quite as dead as the people at STAR Labs think.

Justice League of America #167, “The League That Defeated Itself!”

The splash page is of Superman punching Hal Jordan Green Lantern in the face.

The explanation is pretty quickly forthcoming: the Secret Society of Super-Villains has swapped bodies with the Justice League. The Wizard from Earth-2 is in Superman’s body, Professor Zoom the Reverse-Flash is in Green Lantern’s body, Plant-Master is in Wonder Woman’s body (ew), Star Sapphire is in Zatanna’s body, and Blockbuster is in Batman’s body.

The real Justice League are trapped in the bodies of the villains and locked in a cube-shaped cell. Superman guides Hal into using his new super-speed to help them break free of the cube.

The Joker stars in a Hostess Fruit pie ad!

The villains have left for Earth, leaving the heroes (who are trapped in their bodies) alone on the JLA Satellite, along with an unconscious Red Tornado, whom they promptly wake up.

Naturally unaware of the switch, the Tornado attacks them and they fight. Zatanna manages to bring the tornado down using Star Sapphire’s powers, and the JLA go off to find their bodies on Earth, with Batman telling Zatanna that she’ll have to reverse the spell as their only magician.

Green Lantern gets some information out of Hijack (who I think is a member of the Royal Flush Gang) by pretending to be Reverse-Flash. The information helps them locate the Society’s HQ.

As soon as they break into the building, however...they’re promptly incapacitated by Green Arrow (except for Zatanna, who remained outside). Green Arrow is suspicious of the way Superman is behaving and decides to keep an eye on him and the others who “located” the HQ of the Secret Society.

Justice League of America #168, “The Last Great Switcheroo”

This issue picks up where the last issue left off. Ollie and Hawkman are supsicous about the behavior of their allies, while Black Canary ad the Elongated Man don’t think anything unusual is going on.

Eobard traps the “villains” in a diamond cell, and then the Wizard chucks the diamond into another dimension!

The Wizard covers for himself by claiming that the “villains” have been put into “time-stasis” by “Green Lantern”’s ring. “I just tossed the diamond into an orbit around the solar system! They’ll remain there until science perfects criminal rehabilitation.” For some reason, everyone except Green Arrow immediately accepts this excuse.

Red Tornado breaks free of the trap Zatanna-in-Star-Sapphire’s-Body had to put him in last issue and criticizes the decisions he made in the fight with them.

Zatanna then arrives on the satellite and convinces Red Tornado of the swap that’s taken place.

Meanwhile, in Mexico, the Secret Society and the remaining members of the Justice League are, at least allegedly, guarding some jewels for the Mexican government. Elongated Man, Hawkman, and the Flash are also becoming suspicious of their supposed allies.

And then Eobard ruins everything in the most Eobard way possible: forcing a kiss onto Black Canary!

The real Justice Leaguers fight and defeat the impostors (except for the Wizard, who left to “patrol the city”)...but before he can step in to salvage his plan, Superman uses the Wizard’s own magic to take his body down.

Zatanna reverses the mind-swap, and the day is saved.

Was it this story that later got retconned to include more mindwiping thanks Identity Crisis, or am I thinking of a different storyline?

Flash #275, “The Last Dance”

In this issue, Iris Allen dies!

The story starts with Barry in the grip of a teenaged girl with ESP powers (no, really. Cary Bates, the issue’s writer, really liked the paranormal). His marriage with his wife Iris has been struggling, and she fears that he might be cheating on her.

She’s also spying on him by bugging his costume rings with “micro-mini homing signal devices”, which just goes to show that literally anyone in the DCU can invent amazing technology at the drop of a hat.

Stalking the stalker is Clive Yorkin, a character from the plot thread that’s been building up to this issue. He’s kind of based off of the brainwashing scene in A Clockwork Orange and hates the Flash and Barry Allen.

The teenager uses her mental powers to force the Flash to meet her at a motel and take off his mask, which he does. She’s apparently disappointed by the results, complaining that there’s nothing remarkable about him, and promptly storms out.

Iris arrives in her car just as the girl storms out, and discovers that she’s coming from the room that her tracker has Barry in. She storms inside and accuses Barry of cheating on her, then runs out in tears.

Also, right before she storms out, Barry looks at himself in the mirror and thinks “ “Ordinary”? What in blazes is that supposed to mean? I may not be Robert Redford...but I always thought I was sort of sexy...at least, that’s what Iris told me.” It’s mildly hilarious.

Iris promptly gets into a car wreck with a tanker truck. Barry manages to save both her and the two truck drivers from the massive explosion that this causes.

Barry convinces Iris that he wasn’t cheating and the two promptly make up.

Meanwhile, Mysterious Shadowy Man on the Phone tells someone to kill Barry Allen at a philanthropist’s upcoming costume party for all of the employees of Central City’s government (e.g., police officers, firefighters, etc.) The Mysterious Shadowy Man on the Phone will eventually be revealed to be the corrupt police chief of Central City, Chief Paulson.

Iris and Barry decide they want to have kids, then kiss. D’awww!

Iris’ costume for the party arrives; she’s going as Batgirl. Barry was planning to rent a Batman outfit, but it was already rented, so Barry ends up going to the costume ball dressed as himself (that is, the Flash).

Clyde Yorkin is still stalking both of them.

Barry’s friend from work, Frank Curtis, arrives to pick the couple up. Hilariously, he’s also dressed as the Flash.

The theme of the party is “Dress as Your Favorite Super-Character”. Iris comments “it’ll be interesting to see whether we get more heroes or villains!”...which raises a question: Namely, why is everyone totally okay with people dressing up as people who are, in their world, real costumed criminals? That’s always seemed odd to me.

Clive Yorkin sneaks into the trunk of Curtis’ car and slips out as the other three head for the party.

Inside the mansion, we see a huge number of people dressed up as famous DC characters, including Hawkgirl, the Calculator, Heat Wave, two Green Lanterns, Zatanna, Aquaman, Green Arrow, two Black Canaries, Abra Kadabra, Batman, Wonder Woman, Professor Zoom the Reverse-Flash, Star Sapphire, Supergirl, Pied Piper, Poison Ivy, Captain Cold, the Golden Glider, the Top, mustachioed Superman, some guy in a purple costume I can’t ID, Mirror Master, the Golden Age Sandman, and Captain Boomerang.

The Golden Age Sandman is actually an assassin in disguise; he was hired by Chief Paulson to get rid of Barry Allen before he discovered his corruption; he drugs Barry by “shooting” him with his Sandman gun. One of the Green Lanterns is actually Hal Jordan, who pops up to say hi to Barry and Iris. A later story will reveal that the Captain Boomerang in this issue was the real Captain Boomerang, and that some of the other Rogues were also actually at the party so they could, quote, “party and pick pockets”. Yet another subsequent issue will reveal that the Reverse-Flash at the party was in fact the real Eobard. So...which of the other Rogues do we think were at the party? We know that the Captain Cold isn’t real; he’s “Phil from Vice”. That means that the Golden Glider alongside him is probably not the real one either, and it seems unlikely that the Top here is the real one, since he was dead at this point. So that leaves the Pied Piper, Mirror Master, and Heat Wave as possible candidates.

Chief Paulson calls Barry to meet him in his office at 9 AM the next day; Barry agrees but notes that the man seems oddly tense.

Curtis, still dressed as the Flash, goes outside for a smoke break and gets jumped by Yorkin, who mistakenly believes him to be Barry (until he rips his mask off, at which point he just throws him off the balcony.)

Barry sees a Green Lantern making the moves on Iris and gets upset until Hal reveals that he’s the real Green Lantern and congratulates them on their plan to become parents. He then flies out the window, and somehow all the party goers are fully convinced that it’s just a really elaborate costume. Huh?

Iris tempts fate by saying that “this might be the happiest moment of my life!” The two go off together to get some privacy...but then Barry begins to feel dizzy, as though he’s been drugged. Iris goes into the bathroom to get him some water...and then Barry hears her screaming! He bursts into the bathroom to see Iris on the floor, with Yorkin standing over her. Yorkin then jumps out a window as Barry runs to his wife.

A bunch of the guests, including Mustachioed Superman, burst into the room to see what the commotion is, and Barry passes out. Curtis bursts in a few seconds later to learn that one of his friends needs a hospital....and that the other is dead! It’s a very effective cliffhanger.

#flash comics #batman comics #justice league #flash rogues #dc comics

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ready-to-obeyme · 4 years

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[OM!] (American) College!AU Demon Brothers

Scenario: Headcanons on the demon brothers as college students (specifically in the US because I don’t know how college works elsewhere), their possible majors, career goals, extracurriculars, ~GPA~ and whatever else I could think of + how meet you in college

Note: I’m hoping to do a Part 2 with the Undateables but honestly… we’ll see lol. This is based off something ~A~ and I thought of for our specific university but we’ve made it broad enough to share HAHA this turned out VERY long

Lucifer

Majoring in Political Sciences with a minor in Psychology

Pre-Law-- most likely immigration law or child custody (there’s definitely a backstory here)

Initially went to community college for the first two years to save up money to take care of his younger siblings

Rejected an offer to go to an Ivy League because it was too expensive; if his siblings ever found out they’d be furious that he’d give up on that chance, but he knows he can succeed wherever he goes (and besides, family is first)

Transferred into a 4-year university his junior year

Very high GPA-- VERY

In a professional fraternity with Diavolo and Barbatos

He didn’t think he’d join one either but Diavolo was the vice chair when he transferred in and the president the year after so… ~nepotism?~ and also Lucifer is charming as heck so no surprise he’d get in

Also rooms with Diavolo and Barbatos

Goes to the gym regularly just to keep fit; gets goaded by Diavolo and Satan into joining an IM team with his frat brothers and actual brothers-- probably basketball or flag football

Probably meets you at a interclub council meeting and mutters under his breath how useless the board members are and you overhear

“Never have I met more incompetent people.”

“Lmao mood”

“!!!”

Keeps sitting next to you at every interclub meeting then after because at least there’s someone that can keep his mind stimulated (thinks you’re hot if you’re competent btw)

If you somehow meet him on campus, he’s the type of guy to put his hand up and pretend he didn’t see you (just kidding, he always ends up saying hi anyways)

Will Absolutely Lecture You if you are procrastinating on studying especially if your midterm is, like, TOMORROW

Always ends up studying with him because he’s actually focused on studying and glares at you if you get distracted (but hey you get good scores in the end)

Mammon

Majoring in Business Econ/Economics, Minoring in Statistics

(always ends up in the middle of the “is econ a humanities or a STEM major” debate that leaves him left for dead)

Planning to work in Business as Finance -- probably has been treasurer or finance director for a club; can even see him being a banker if it suits his plans better

Goes to a four-year university

Decent GPA (or Lucifer would absolutely destroy him), and does REALLY well in mathematics classes

Would room with Lucifer and his posse if they all go to the same school

Probably in a Business Frat as well because he’s pretty charismatic when it comes down to it but was an RA for some of his years for the free rooming and dining hall privileges

Is a very chill and understanding RA (as in he smokes weed with you when he’s off-duty) but is surprisingly well-versed in dealing with roommate issues

Works part-time (gasp) to buy stuff off of Amazon and go out to places

Spends a lot of time exploring places with his friends, going hiking, rock-climbing, clubbing-- which is expensive, as it turns out, so he needed to be able to afford it somehow

Meets you when you’re eating your lunch outside somewhere and he asks you if you have a dollar he could borrow for a vending machine snack

You exchange numbers with him so he can pay it back (even though you honestly don’t really need it, but why not) and turns out he’s in your GE class

“Heyyy wassup! So glad I have a friend in this class”

“Oh by the way, did you finish the homework? Haha, I forgot it.”

Mammon always repays you for your help in food though so you aren’t complaining

Leviathan

Majoring in Computer Sciences

And honestly that’s too much for me already-- the man is doing computer programming, coding-- WHEW-- and they do NOT rest

Goes to a community college but honestly has no problems cinching internships. The computer is his domain-- online applications are EASY, doing projects NOT as easy, interviews? HARD-- REALLY HARD (someone help him)

Probably intends to work with a big company like Google if only to help supply his income so he can live his life going to AX and buying merch

Most likely moved out of his house mid-college with his online friends (who are luckily compatible with him living-space wise) and visits home once a week

There’s two potential sides you can meet first:

Either you meet him at a convention and you both gush about the same character and anime and somehow find each other online (not college related)

Or his favorite Ruri-chan keychain gets broken off in the computer lab, and you’re the one running after him to give it him

He may or may not owe you his life after that (and if you enjoy anime, well that’s a bonus)

Both of these meetings can happen if he doesn’t recognize you in class because you were in cosplay-- imagine the surprise

The two of you as friends are MASTER PROCRASTINATORS at every assignment the two of you have-- so low-key not a great influence-- but you have fun together watching animes, playing games, talking about life-- anything but actual work

Always ends up scrambling to finish things-- but he keeps doing it because it’s been working for him so far

You help him prepare for interviews because he’s always nervous before each one regardless of how well his application looks

Satan

Majoring in Comparative Literature AND Anthropology (ya boy is doing the whole nine yards)

Planning to get his Master’s and then a PhD in one of his majors (whichever proves to be more engaging for him)-- visibly excited to become a Professor

College was meant for Satan-- like REALLY; the man is in LOVE with learning; most likely to go and be accepted to an Ivy-League after Lucifer but... truly believes you can get a good education anywhere so it depends on his financial standing (and how much scholarship he gets)

Does get a little disgruntled when his classes aren’t available but doesn’t mind learning something new-- if the professor bores him to death, he’ll read the book

Really good at tutoring people; someone suggests that he works as a peer-learning facilitator/writing tutor and he does-- might as well make bank doing something you always do anyways

Joins a writing/journal club as an extracurricular and a club that provides tutoring services to the underserved community-- surprisingly good with kids!

He knows friends in high places, so if he wanted to, could get into any party without batting an eye and his favorite professors love him

Spends a lot of his time going out to the city and exploring places, similarly to Mammon, rock-climbing, hiking, paragliding-- anything

He is VERY well-rounded as you can see; competes with Lucifer to see whose GPA is better though

You probably meet him during office hours, and you can only stare in awe as he asks questions that you had in mind, but better; if you’re visibly confused about something, he’ll take his time to help you too (it’s habit at this point)

Ask him for his contact info and you’ll get it, and maybe repay him in coffee? (You always see him at the cafe on campus.)

Most likely to have a specific spot in a cafe that he is always at that the workers actually save a spot for him or give him his usual order before he even arrives-- may or may not have helped them edit their essays or with their homework as a thank-you so you KNOW they’ll love him forever

The type of person to help you make flashcards and cram if you need it

Asmodeus

Majoring in Dance and Fine Arts (I HC going to NYU specifically)

Considering going for an Master of Fine Arts degree but he might just move to New York and go for being a Broadway Star

College is mainly just training for him and hoping to land gigs in local theater-- and the university theater if there is one-- and building his resume for his big break

Has SO many extracurriculars, all pertaining to his career choice, but also because he enjoys what he does: drama, competitive dance team, acapella, fashion design

Makes an unbelievable amount of friends, incredibly good at networking

The first time you saw him was when he was performing for a local theater and you were in love with his performance, and the next time you saw him in the hallway of a classroom building, you told him how much you enjoyed it

Always accepts compliments about his looks with grace, but there’s something about truly being admired for his acting and singing that has him preening

Invites you to come out to his next performance, and if not his, then to another play-- and it can be a date, but up to you ;)

The man is the KING of Multiple Talents and has big dreams to match

Always finds a way to hang out with you and drag you to every club that he can use his fake-id for (and when he’s actually 21 and above, gets a little offended that he doesn’t get ID’d)

A night in the town with you is always a good night!

Sometimes when he has practical exams coming up, he asks you to watch him perform-- and he likes your compliments but actually takes getting all the moves seriously so you better pay attention!

Most likely to move far away to reach his dreams, but he would take you with him if he could-- his little star

Beelzebub

Majoring in Physiological Sciences

Pre-Nursing or Pre-Sports Medicine

He’s a little undecided, but he’s definitely going to go into the health field because he likes the idea of being able to use his strength to help others

Gets a scholarship from the university because he’s part of the football team, which is actually pretty hard on him because Fall Semester/Quarter he has to keep skipping classes for games

Always brings a snack to eat with him during lecture-- and is not afraid to bring his entire lunch and make it right in the front row, though he tends to stick to the back because they tend to have electrical plugs

You most likely meet him during lecture: he offers you an entire sandwich (not a chip bag, not fruit snacks, an entire LUNCH) because he heard your stomach growl during class

From then on, you collect notes for him when he’s gone from games and even go to games if you aren’t usually the type to just to see how he’s doing; it’s hard trying to find you among the huge bleachers, but he always asks you where you’re sitting anyways

Really appreciate it if you help him study into late at night because it IS hard balancing sports and academics

He most likely doesn’t really have any time for anything else so he usually makes up for it during the rest of the year when training is less to volunteer in the hospital or at the gym as a personal trainer

If you ask him to teach you how to properly lift weights, he’ll definitely help out and the both of you can work out together-- though you feel bad when he has to add four extra weights to each side after you finish your reps

Belphegor

Majoring in Computer Graphics/Animation

Intending to go into making animation or game design-- is one of the brothers who doesn’t really know exactly what he wants to do yet because he’s afraid that doing what he loves as a job will ruin it for him

His family reassures him that they’ll support him whether or not he continues with his path in life, but he’s considering art school and then taking internships in places so he has a better idea on what he wants

Most likely to sell his own original work and become a full-time artist regardless

I think you already know how you meet him-- he’s sleeping in a lecture hall-- either against the wall or on the small piece of wood they call a desk when class ends and he’s still sleeping; and you wake him up

Sleepily thanks you and continues to sleep through every class that you wake him up to; when you ask him why he doesn’t just go home and sleep, he tells you he’s too lazy to walk back and forth from his dorm/apartment to campus (mood)

When you add each other on Snapchat or something, he sends you pics of ‘places to nap’ on campus

You always end up studying together because he’s actually pretty good at understanding lecture stuff despite not being awake for most of it-- apparently he’s used to teaching himself

Will make you art for your birthday and will vehemently refuse payment so he just tells you to take him out for dinner instead

If you talk about how you’re not sure on what you want to do in life too, he’ll probably say ‘mood’ but is most likely to encourage you to do whatever you want to do in life too

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me leviathan #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me shall we date?#ngl i would date beel in this au 100%

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amythecinnabunny · 3 years

Note

Space AU and Time Travel for Juke 👀 <33

Holy shit holy shit holy shit ok ok ok ok first of all AKDBJSJSJJEJE YES

Okay okay so let me try to iron out the mess in my head skxbjsjjd I hereby apologize if things get out of order or whatever but I am literally vibrating with excitement someone please write this I'll love you forever

Ok so I'm thinking also an aged up au for ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* reasons *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ sjsnnsn

Also, I've done this before and I'm gonna do it again, but Bobby and Trevor are two different people for the sake of the timeline here.

Time frame for this would be WAY into the future. Humanity has gone galactic. We also had our asses handed to us by several alien planets but we probably deserved it. Anyway, after we got rid of Elon Musk, we eventually made peace with the aliens and now roam the galaxy freely. 20-30yo generally try to get into a different fleet, just to learn about other races. Think all those alien ships adopts a human posts.

Julie, Carrie and Flynn are my three girl geniuses. They're like,,, the smartest people in every room. They've been like this since freshman year of college. Julie, Carrie and Flynn also all want to get into the student exchange program, which is exactly what you think it is. Alien races (and this now includes humanity) swaps out older students with each other so they get a feel of what the other race is like. It's fun, educational, and! You get to make super long distance pen pals!

I'd also have so much fun making up new memes???? It would be so fucking stupid tho but I love it.

Anyway, so after a few years of jumping through the exchange programme, hoping from planet to planet, unfortunately, without their bestfriends :<, the three of them qualify to board research ships!!!

So at like 23-25, my girls come back together on the same ship!! Its a massive thing and so they've hired so many interns from so many different races. It's like a landing hub for several smaller ships. They have like 10 interns per species and that's only because there are laws against having too many of one kind after they put 50 humans on a space station and the humans tried to take over. Also, humans multiply faster than the others. This terrifies some races.

Anyway, the ship's really just a bunch of college kids from different planets trying to avoid exam season by submitting research papers from their ship. They all bond over deadlines, breakups and coffee (or the alien equivalent thereof)

Flynn dated an alien girl for a while. They were cute. Flynn: as a lesbian, it's my duty to date all the women in space

This is also where they run into Willie!!! Yay, Willie!!!

Nick Danforth-Evans and Kayla Evans-McKessie are around ... somewhere ... in bunk beds like the little toddlers they wish they were, crying about the 15 page essay on why Xjsbsjdjd is a very intelligent race that we could learn a lot from (yes, that is a keysmash I'm too buzzed to be creating alien species names sjdjjdjd)

Carrie and Nick do date for a while but then Carrie hooked up with Kayla. Bisexual queen who?

Julie met Willie that time she didn't sleep for over 48 hours because she had a research paper due within a week and she hadn't started yet and it was 10 000 words on her experiences with the Psjxjjdkeiwj race. Luckily for her, the kid she bumped into and spilled an energy drink all over had the same paper and helped her finish it. Willie sometimes goes by the nickname Lifesaver, thanks to Julie. This confuses the metaphor-less people because Willie's never saved anyone's life?? So why is he a lifesaver??

ANYWAY ON TO THE TIME TRAVEL BIT

On their own, Julie, Carrie and Flynn are professional smart people who know what they're saying and are clever enough not to do things with too many risks. In the same room, however, they turn into dumb geniuses who can and possibly may blow up the entire ship. It's a good thing they have Willie, Nick and Kayla to babysit them, right? WRONG. Willie Kayla and Nick egg them on.

They decide there going to gather all the information there is on time travel and they're going to decipher it and make it work! Yay!

When they find stuff in alien languages they start calling up their alien pen pals "hello what's this word mean in this context? What, haha oh no, it's a research paper on why time travel projects were abandoned before completion. Okay, thank you!"

Before long, they have a working time machine. I mean,, they hope so. And so they enter a random date from the past and prepare to pop their heads through just to see what the world looked like approximately 200ish years ago

2020s, post covid because that exists for joke reasons later, Sunset Curve is performing live for one of their biggest audiences yet when mid-song, the floor just opens them up and swallows them whole before vanishing. The crowd things it's a stunt but Sunset Curve's managers are flipping their shit

Back on the ship, the machine starts sparking and with a soft boom and a hiss, the power in that quadrant goes out -- not before Willie's is pelted in the face with a pair of drumsticks and then a whole person.

It's a miracle the drums survived the trip, pet alone everything else.

So now these sleep deprived geniuses and co. have to hide three people and several musical artifacts, plus the smoking remains of a time machine, from their Supervising Officer, who is regrettably, a human too.

And none of them are very good at lying.

Luke and Bobby are though, and after piecing together bits and pieces from the frenzied rambling around them, Luke and Bobby save the group.

Shenanigans ensue as they try to rebuild the time machine under the watchful eye of the SO, while trying to mantainbfake credentials for the boys and trying to explain their very dated clothing. (Yes, Sunset Curve STILL rocks the 90s vibe. In the 2020s. It's their thing.)

Willex happens in the background -- and I mean that very literally. (Jukebox having a tension moment, Willex making out in the background.)

Honestly I'm not sure yet how theyd solve the problems, whether they'd send the boys back or not or what, but I do know that they will all cause a BUNCH of problems in between.

Sometimes they play music just because they still can. Sunset Curve becomes a house band for the ship. They get broadcasted to neighbouring or passing ships like "hey, losers, we have live music, SUCK IT!"

Focusing on the jukebox aspect of this whole fic, that's gonna be a fucking hilarious slow burn.

It will definitely contain the lines "Oh my god, I have a crush on Julie." "Congratulations, you're officially the last to know." "What? Even [SO's Name] knows??" "Dude. The ship's navigation crew knows." "Does ... Julie know?" "No, you're both morons."

Julie is having the exact same conversation four hallways away.

They'd talk a lot about sending the boys back home and it'd be really quiet conversations when everyone else is asleep.

Julie and Luke write music together and after a while, Julie performs a few of them too. Thanks to the concerts, they meet the other human interns that were on the other end of the ship and Carrie and Kayla form Dirty Candy.

The ship becomes known as the party bus.

A thing that will happen: Luke helps Julie write one of her history papers that she gets an A+ for and a comment about how dedicated she was to have delved so far back in the history records to get authentic insight.

Julie and Luke speak in memes but they don't speak the same memes and it drives them both up the wall.

Luke says yeet one day and Julie's soul leaves her body because she hasn't heard anyone say yeet since she was a toddler back on Earth.

Julie: odd display, but acceptable.

Luke, physically experiencing a record scratch: what the fuck did you just say

That is all I have to offer because I'm afraid of plotting further and causing angst somehow.

oh one more thing, someone gets to bang an alien and it's probably Flynn.

Oh oh oh another one more thing. Reggie says "this is just like in Star Wars" for literally anything. The band goes along with it for shits and giggles. The rest of them are very interested in this ancient tale called Star Wars. Reggie sees a picture of Flynn and her green gf and says "hey, you dated photoshopped Yoda" and Bobby just loses his shit.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #julie and the himbos #julie and the fat ones #jatp fic idea #ask #ask meme #thanks for the ask!#trope mashup ask #long post

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achillieus · 3 years

Text

we’re fools. (bucky barnes x reader)

summary: for all bucky barnes knows, he hates clichés. and this thing between you two, happens to be the biggest one.

(enemies to lovers trope or i watched the society on netflix recently and based this entirely on harry bingham and cassandra pressman)

pairing: college au!bucky x reader

warnings: alcohol, angst, too much tension, bucky and reader are stupid and in denial, sexual tension all around the place

tagging: @tonystankschild

(other parts) (masterlist)

part 2/3:

And then it’s the last week of February and you have an assignment together, you and Bucky, the boy with black hair and a mind that you’re certain is not as clever as he insists it is. You know this cannot possibly end well. You feel it when he sits beside you and his knee brushes past your leg. You feel it when you take a breath and smell his aftershave. Sandalwood and vanilla. It makes you want to lick your lips. Please, get a grip. You try to get away, even propose to write the whole thing alone so you wouldn’t have to spend any time around him. In your mind, you call it self defense. But Bucky’s boastful and you can see him pumping the muscles in his neck, trying to intimidate you.

“My dorm, tomorrow at 7,” he says “Don’t be late.”

(your late night instagram search history)

(00:38 AM) #literaturememes

(01:15 AM) @buckybrns

(01:30 AM) #newgirl

(01:50 AM) @buckybrns

(02:10 AM) @buckybrns

You find it annoying; how he’s present even when he’s not around.

The thing about Bucky Barnes is that everyone, boys and girls, adore him alike. He’s charming, he’s crafty, he’s brilliant. He’s everything they want him to be and even more. It nearly condones his megalomania.

The thing about Bucky Barnes is that he’s aware he has an audience. Always plans his moves, knows how to play his character perfectly. He wears dark designer jeans and plain Henley shirts, buttons open, fabric tight around his biceps. Sometimes even a black leather jacket and a tag necklace. Girls are intrigued by the bad-boy, straight A student contrast, while the boys are envious enough keep him close and invite him to all of their parties. Bucky gives them whatever they need.

The thing about Bucky Barnes is that he’s utterly lonely. He has never said so, but it’s the truest thing about him. He has Sam. But for how long? Bucky’s used to people going away. It has been imprinted on him. His best friend, Steve, left with his girlfriend in an exchange program last month and Natasha, the one girl he ever came close to loving, just started dating Clint Barton. Clint fucking Barton. What a downgrade.

And then there’s you, sitting at the end of his bed, playing with the ring in your finger, reading some neatly written lecture notes. Usually, Bucky would think about 129 cheeky comments he could make to a girl in his room. But not to you. Are you sure, Bucky? He has grown accustomed to disliking you. It’s the one constant he has left and he’s not planning on losing it.

He leans down and takes the place next to you, a bottle of beer dangling loosely in his hand.

He offers and you decline.

“We need to concentrate on the project.”

“You’re the biggest killjoy.” Bucky says with a hint of a smirk.

“I’m studying, Bucky.” He can see your left hand holding that dark green pen in a tight grip and your eyes trying to focus everywhere but on his face. He can see your hair glistening in the warm afternoon light that comes from his window. He can see the soft red blush on your cheeks and the beauty mark on your neck. What a tricky thing it is to see. And to feel. And to want.

Is that what dislike tastes like, Bucky?

He talks a lot, that’s the first thing you notice. He says all sorts of things, most of them having nothing to do with your project. You’re certain it’s because he’s feeling as uncomfortable and agitated as you. But still, it’s annoying as hell.

“Listen,” you say and turn to his side “I’m not going to fail this class just because you have the attention span of a two year old.”

A laugh escapes his lips and you watch, completely in awe, the way little wrinkles form around his eyes and his nose scrunches. Right now, he looks tender and warm. No, he doesn’t.

“I think we’re both pretty smart,” Bucky says nonchalant and wets his lower lip with his tongue, before he adds, “We’ve got this, so relax doll.”

There are rules, things that are solid, de facto.

Example 1: Bucky never praises you. At least not out loud.

Example 1: Not valid anymore.

Example 2: Bucky uses the word “doll” approximately ten times a day. To other girls. The girls he likes. Not to you.

That’s actually wrong, he called you doll the first time you met. That doesn’t count. He didn’t know you then.

Example 2: Not valid anymore.

It feels foreign. Pleasant and beguiling, but foreign.

“You always call girls “doll”. What is this?” You ask and he looks up. “Is it like your thing, your flirt move?”

Bucky meets your gaze, his forehead creased, and holds it for some seconds before he laughs again. Is this amusing him?

“No, I’m serious.” You bite your lip. “You even did it to me when we first met.”

“I did?”

Of course he doesn’t remember, what did you expect?

“Yeah, when you helped me find the admission office.”

“And you remember that, an entire year later?” He raises his eyebrows, looking entertained and partly interested.

Your mind empties and for some time you feel out of place, embarrassed. But you’re quick to recollect yourself. You can’t let him get you.

“It was my first day as a college student, I remember all of it.”

Liar. You don’t even remember who you sat next to.

Bucky smirks a little too long for your liking and then he leans in, his body bending in a way that makes you forget to breath. He’s so close and you only see blue, a rare kind of blue between the depths of the ocean and the brightest shade of the sky at noon. This would be so much easier if he wasn’t that handsome. Handsome and indomitable. What an awful combination.

“Interesting.” He whispers and lies back, touching the wall.

You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and clear your throat.

“I should go, it’s obvious we’re not making any progress.” You pick your books and stand up. “Sometimes I wonder how you get all those perfect grades, you clearly-” You merely finish your sentence before he grabs your arm and swiftly, he has you pressed against his wooden bookcase. You don’t have time to blink.

What’s happening? He was sitting down a second ago.

“That day,” he says while his thumb draws circles on your wrist. “You were wearing a denim dress and some Saturn shaped earrings. And you were holding a cherry juice box.”

It’s utterly terrifying how your emotions toss and turn the moment you realize what he’s talking about and the fragile muscles of your heart ache because Bucky cares. Bucky remembers.

“It wasn’t my first day of college, but I remember.”

You want to throw up. Or kiss him. You’re not sure. You know you hate Bucky. Do you? You’ve taught yourself to. And it was never supposed to change. It shouldn’t have to.

You part your lips to say something, anything, but he shakes his head and steps back.

“You should go.”

And you do. And you’ll never tell him, but you’ll always regret not kissing him then. You’re sure now.

your inbox, the next morning

(10:25 AM) from [email protected]

I’m sending you our assignment. You only need to add a few things and it’s done. If anything else comes up, it’s better we work on our own.

For Bucky, it all came crashing down the moment he first saw you. It was all over the moment his eyes met yours. A gourmand perfume lingered in the air around you that day and it stained his pores. And it’s been with him since then. Clinging onto his flesh.

It’s partly obsessive and partly romantic and Bucky tries to keep it locked inside. He thinks he can make it go away easily, the way he flicks a crumb off his expensive cashmere scarf. He thinks if he doesn’t talk about it, it’ll be less true. That’s not how things work, Bucky.

Yeah, he’s starting to notice.

And he’s trying so hard to hate you. The problem is, he doesn’t think he can.

(his late night instagram search history)

(00:45 AM) #tomfordperfumes

(01:30 AM) @y/n

(01:50 AM) #funnycats

(02:15 AM) @y/n

(03:45 AM) @y/n

You make it your mission to avoid him and it’s going well until the fifth of March. You spot him at Sam Wilson’s party. You should have known he’d be here, they’re friends. There’s a thick cloud of cigarette smoke all around, but still, you can perfectly see him. He’s standing alone, his skin changing colors under the neon lights, a plastic cup in his hand, eyes crystal blue and swollen and fixated on you.

The room is small and everything feels known but unfamiliar at the same time; the atmosphere, his gaze, the lump on your throat.

They’re suffocating you, the looks you give each other.

“Buck, what do you want?” Sam asks, holding both vodka and gin and he observes the way Bucky merely turns his head to look at him.

What do you want Bucky?

Not to play a role anymore. For Steve to be back. Maybe, Natasha. No, he hasn’t thought about her in a month. Perhaps a Pulitzer Prize. Definitely a new pair of sunglasses. But there is one more answer he has behind his teeth.

Y/N, he almost says. Always.

“Vodka.”

He leaves before midnight and you can’t remember where the urge came from, yet you’re following him. You know he has noticed. But he just keeps walking until he reaches the door of his dorm and presses his back against it. He sees you and you see him and his eyes cut your heart open.

“Your place is on the other side of the building.”

“I know,” you mumble, “I just never got to say good job on the assignment and I wanted to.” You are unable to meet his eyes. You sound pitiful and you want to hit a wall; with your head.

Why the hell did you follow him here?

Because sometimes you do stupid things.

Bucky mockingly opens his mouth, as if shocked. It almost makes you groan.

“Did Miss high and mighty just comment something nice about me?”

“Why do you have to contradict everything I say?”

He shakes his head and you can feel your heart beat loud and irregular and it’s not because you’re mad. It’s because he’s coming closer, almost chest to chest now. And it’s because you can swear, he just glanced at your lips.

“Someone has to, you can’t act like you know everything all the time.”

“I don’t do that, you don’t know a thing about me Bucky.”

“Oh, but I do. You’re Y/N, you like plaid skirts and Homer and dark green pens. You expect everyone to be perfect. You expect yourself to be perfect. And you always want to do the right thing.”

His pupils are dilated. Yours must be too. Bucky Barnes is dangerous and fatal. He makes your blood coil and your mouth dry. And there’s a tension, almost pain, almost agony, deep in your lungs and it burns. And you don’t know who leaned in first, probably you because Bucky isn’t that brave yet, but suddenly your hands are everywhere. Your fingers blending in his hair, his digging in the skin on the back of your neck. He’s bringing you closer and it’s a mess and all you can hear is the beating of your heart; a rapid vibration between your ears. It’s pure and raw and it doesn’t hurt anymore.

He tastes like ambrosia and a year-old despair and you think you can go on forever. You eventually break apart because you both need to breath and for a second you worry because he looks like he’s ready to cry, but instead he smiles, softly touching your cheek.

“Did I do the right thing?” You whisper.

...

feedback is so appreciated and motivates me tons, thank you :)

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #college au #bucky barnes imagine #au!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan #alternate universe #alternate universe bucky #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #fools

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kiwi-bitchez · 4 years

Note

can i just say that your writing style is absolutely phenomenal and that i adore the work you’ve put out so far. i know whatever you write in the future is going to be incredible and i can’t wait to read it!! in terms of suggestions, i was wondering if you could write something with virgin peter being with a more experienced reader? maybe she finds his lack of experience cute and calms down his nerves by being straight forward? maybe a little praise kink discovery as well?? totally up to you!!

Holy shit yes! Honestly, I got a little carried away with this... sorry I took so long lol, hope this holds up to any expectations ;)

Straight Forward, Straight Backwards (a college!Peter Parker AU)

Warnings: SMUT, college!AU, sexy times, praise kink, Peter Parker is a cutie, also everyone is legal ages here obvi

Word count: 6.5k

Summary: You move into a new dorm building and a cute boy down the hall catches your eye. Little did you know he's a smarty pants who takes directions very well ;)

You should have done a better job packing. Your personal items lay strewn about in your new dorm room, clothes and other items all jumbled together in unorganized boxes. You typically didn’t leave things until the last minute, but moving across campus didn’t seem like a big deal until it was actually time to do it.

You flop back on your unmade bed and scroll through your phone, finding any excuse not to deal with the chaos of unpacking. Hopping up to your feet, you decide to wander down the hall to see if anyone’s doors were open. You hadn’t had much luck making friends in the last building you lived in and wanted to take the opportunity to try and meet some new people.

You walk down the hall searching for someone to introduce yourself to, poking your head into a handful of rooms and saying hello. You tell them your name and that you just moved in, having a quick few interactions with the people in the rooms next to yours. You venture a little further down the hall to a door propped open with a doorstop, faint music coming from inside.

You knock lightly and then poke your head in, not wanting to intrude on anyone. You see a curly-haired boy sitting at a desk concentrating on something. For a second you wondered if you should just let him be, but something told you to knock again and see if he noticed.

You knock a little louder this time, saying a quiet “Hello?” as you do so. He turns around abruptly, startled by your presence. He lurches back in his chair a little bit, rolling across the room and away from his desk.

“Hey,” you say again, “sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“Nonono, it’s ok,” he says quickly and nervously.

“I just moved in down the hall,” you gesture towards your room, “I just wanted to introduce myself, I’m y/n.”

“Oh, hi,” he still seemed nervous, “I’m Peter.”

He got up out of his desk chair quickly and walked a few steps over to you. He jutted his hand out, offering it to you. You couldn’t help but smile a little as you shook it tentatively. Most of the people you had met didn’t even bother to leave their beds, let alone get up to shake your hand.

“It’s nice to meet you Peter,” you say as you continue to shake his hand.

“Shit, sorry,” he pulls his hand away, realizing he had been shaking yours for much longer than necessary, “do you wanna come in? I have snacks.”

You chuckle a little before entering his small single dorm and comfortably plopping yourself onto a beanbag chair.

“Purple Doritos,” you gesture to the hoard of junk food he has piled on a shelf in the corner, “respect.”

“Totally underrated right?” he says with enthusiasm.

The two of you exchange the typical chit chat of college students, asking each other what your major is and how long you’ve been in school.

“Biomechanical engineering and robotics, but also maybe chemistry if I have the time to do that too,” he runs his hand through his floppy curls.

“Damn,” you look at him wide-eyed, “guess I’m coming to you for science help from now on, freakin genius over here.”

He laughs nervously and turns away, “I just think its all so interesting, and I love to build things.”

You can’t help but smile at the way he talks with his hands, spinning around aimlessly in his desk chair. He tells you about your school’s robotics lab, something you would never have had a reason to know about otherwise. He starts to tell you about the kinds of things he’s built, and the projects he was currently working on. Most of what he said went right over your head, but you liked how excited he was to tell you about it.

After shooting the shit for a while, you get up, “I guess I’ll head back to my room, didn’t mean to distract you from your work or anything,” you gesture to his desk, “it was really nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, if you um ever need a study buddy or anything like that you can usually find me right here,” he was a little jittery, and his voice was nervous. You give him a smile and tell him you will take him up on that offer.

You feel a blush creep up into your cheeks as you hurry down the hall back to your messy dorm. He was cute. And nice. And funny and smart. He was nothing like the guys you usually went for. He seemed awkward and shy, and you knew you’d have to be the one to make the first move. You were used to just letting others do the work when flirting, so this would be different.

A few days later you found yourself bored and alone in your dorm. You had spent the morning finishing up some school assignments, so you hadn’t had the chance to get any food. Only now were you realizing how hungry you were. Jumping up from your desk and throwing some clean clothes on you decide to venture out onto campus.

Peter’s dorm door is propped open once again, and something inside you tells you to pop your head in. You had seen him in passing since meeting him, and he would always give you a friendly wave and a smile.

“Hey,” you say as you knock quietly, “hope I’m not bothering you.”

He’s sat in his bed, big headphones on and furiously scribbling in a notebook. He only notices you once you enter the room, startling him.

“Oh, hey y/n, what’s uhh, what’s up,” he stumbles on his words as he takes off the headphones and hops off the bed.

“Just wanted to say hey and see if you wanted to come to the dining hall with me,” you help him gather his papers that had fallen on the floor.

“Oh, yeah, um, sure,” he looks up at you, big brown eyes meeting yours, “that would be nice, I haven’t eaten yet today.”

“Me either,” you hand him the stack you had gathered. The two of you decide on which dining hall is best and make your way across campus. He’s a fast walker, which you like, and an even faster talker. You can tell that you make him a little nervous, but you kind of like that too. It made it easier to hide how nervous he made you.

The two of you grab some food and find a table off in a corner to sit at. Despite his awkward nature, you found Peter to be incredibly sweet and a nice person to be around. He always seemed interested in what you were saying and would never cut you off or talk over you.

You start asking him more about what he does in the labs at school, liking the way his eyes light up and hands get restless when he talks about the projects he’s working on. He knows you aren’t a science buff like him, but he appreciates that you are interested in hearing about his projects.

You realize that you had finished your food long ago and you had been sitting at the table for quite a while, just going back and forth with Peter, telling stories and jokes and facts about your lives. He was an easy person to talk to, which was rare to come by.

“Maybe sometime you could sneak me in and show me what you’ve been working on,” you rest your head onto your palm.

“Oh, no sneaking necessary, I could bring you anytime,” he says casually, “you wanna go?” He gestures towards the door.

“Now?” you were a little surprised at the suggestion, but nodded in agreement and moved to clear your plate.

The two of you start walking across campus once again, you following his lead. You were excited to be spending so much time with him, growing to like him more and more as you got to know him better.

Your first years of college had been spent doing the typical partying and experimenting, as custom. You had your fair share of one night stands, good and bad. Sort and long term relationships, both good and bad.

As much as you were attracted to Peter, you truly just enjoyed spending time with him. He is hard to read, and you couldn’t quite tell if you had a shot with him. If not you were content with just being his friend, although you did think about jumping his bones most of the time.

He swipes his student ID in the door of a large grey building, letting the two of you in. You follow him down a series of halls and stairwells, he tells you about all the different labs as you go. You finally reach a large set of double doors that lead to the robotics lab.

It was a vast space with mounds and piles of mechanical equipment. Goofy drawings and photos were hung up on the walls by people’s workstations. You couldn’t even begin to conceive what all these machines are and what they do.

You wander around the space while Peter walks over to a desk and piles of boxes, telling you about the project he had been working on. You jumped up onto a large table, figuring it was alright to sit there when Peter didn’t comment on your position. He was talking in circles about the machine, using acronyms and names of things you had no idea about.

Walking over to where you were sat, he shows you a small mechanical spider, roughly the size of his hand.

“I’m trying to program him to follow instructions that I can give from a mobile device,” he starts to tell you. You think it's cute that he called the robot a “he.”

“Do you wanna see?” he asks, you were too busy staring at his face to realize he had asked you a question.

“Oh yeah, of course,” you snap out of your trance and turn your attention to the little spider on the table next to you.

As Peter controlled the robot with his phone, giving it basic instructions like to move or stop, you tried to keep your attention on the spider rather than the cute boy next to you. You felt the overwhelming desire to make a move, going back and forth in your head as to whether that is a good idea or not.

He takes a few steps towards you, really reaching for his robot, but in the process positioning himself comfortably standing between your legs. He reaches past you to grab his project. You lean forward a little so your shoulders touch.

“Oh shit, sorry y/n,” he backs up quickly, realizing he had been standing so close to you, “I didn’t mean to get all up in your space just then.”

“It’s ok,” you brush your hair behind your ear and try to give him a flirty look, “come here.”

Peter gulps, and sets the spider down behind him on a different table, tentatively stepping towards you. “Can I show you something?” you lean your shoulders into him again, moving to the edge of the table to move your body closer to his.

Peter nods, clearly nervous at your forwardness. You take his hand, looking into his eyes to see how he responds to the action. He was now stood between your legs again, head only a few inches above yours. You tilt your chin up, and bring your hand to the side of his face.

“Is this okay?” you ask in a whisper, lips parted and hovering over his.

He nods, giving you permission to follow through with your plan of action. You gently place your lips on his, finding them to be soft and inviting. He kissed you back, shakily bringing his hand to the back of your neck.

You could tell he was incredibly nervous. You were used to guys kissing you hard and fast, with little buildup, all tongue and grabbing. Which was alright after a few tequila shots at a frat party, but not your favorite. This kiss was nice. Slow and gentile and in the moment. You liked initiating it, and you liked that he was kissing you back, but not trying to eat you alive.

He pulls away, eyes wide and making contact with yours, “was that… was I…?” he starts a few statements but can’t seem to find his words.

“I like you Peter,” you take his hand again, “I think you’re really cool.”

“Thanks, I…um,” he was blushing furiously and was looking down at the floor, “I like you a lot too.”

“Would you maybe want to come with me to a party on west campus this weekend?” you ask, “You know, like, as my date?”

He breaks out into a big goofy smile, nodding and giving you hand a squeeze. The two of you go on to talk more about his spider, you tell him how awesome it is and how you can’t believe how smart he must be to make something like that. He never lets go of your hand, squeezing it tightly the whole walk back to your dorm building.

Saturday rolls around and you stand in your dorm, not knowing what to wear to this party. You settle on an outfit that is the perfect blend of cute and sexy, and head down the hall to meet Peter. You give his door a quick few knocks before he opens, eyes wide looking at you.

“You look really, really good y/n,” he compliments you and you bashfully tuck your head into the crook of your shoulder, “I mean it.”

The two of you relax in his dorm room until you get the text from a friend that its time to head to the party. You can tell that Peter is a little anxious, he doesn’t seem like the partying type, but you wanted an excuse to spend some time with him. You grab his hand reassuringly and walk together out of your building, meeting up with a group of friends.

They tried to play it cool, but your girls kept indiscreetly mouthing things like “holy shit he’s so hot!” and “where did you find him?” as you walked towards the party. You rolled your eyes and brushed them off, clinging to Peter’s arm.

The party was nothing special, just a typical college party. People were drinking, dancing, grinding, smoking, mostly drinking. You whip up some quick cocktails for you and Peter and join him with some of your friends in a more secluded area of the frat house. You made sure to stand close to Peter, tucking yourself closely into his arm. You wanted everyone to know you weren’t there alone, and you wanted Peter to feel like you were his for the night.

You weren’t quite done with your first drink when you noticed an off energy from Peter. You wanted to bring him to this party as your date, but never really considered if parties were his thing or not. He was talking and joking with you and your friends, occasionally taking a sip from his pink cocktail, but you could sense an underlying sense of discomfort.

“Hey,” you pulled him into a secluded corridor, “what’s up?” You kiss him quickly, wanting to show him that you were having a good time with him. He kisses you back and your heart flutters. You love the feeling of his tentative lips on yours, light and soft.

“Just at a party with the most beautiful girl here, that’s all,” he says jokingly, but kisses your cheek after to show that he means it.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, “I feel like you aren’t having a lot of fun.”

“Are you kidding? I love spending time with you,” he says earnestly, realizing what you meant, ‘“but parties aren’t exactly my scene if you haven’t noticed.”

“I’m noticing,” you joke, “and I think the two of us alone in one of our rooms would be much better.”

You lean up to kiss the side of his neck, leaning your head into his shoulder. Your wide eyes meet his, observing that he definitely agrees with you but is still very nervous. He nods at your suggestion, and the two of you abandon your cocktails on a coffee table and leave the house.

“I didn’t mean to imply anything, “you say sweetly, “I really just like spending time with you, no matter where it is.”

“That means a lot,” you see a smile creeping onto his face.

“Your room?” you suggest, “mines kind of a mess right now.”

“Sure,” he responds, “not that I mind mess though.”

The two of you make your way up the stairs and down the hall to Peter’s room. You instinctively kick off your shoes and set down your bag.

“Sorry if I ruined the night,” he apologizes nervously, “I just don’t really fit in with big crowds like that.”

You can tell that he feels genuinely sorry. “Peter,” you start, “are you kidding? I meant it when I said I like spending time with you no matter where. We could go to a party or the dining hall or the robotics lab, I don’t care, I just like being around you.”

“You mean that?” he looks at you apologetically again.

“Of course I do, I’ve really liked you ever since we first met,” you admit. You walk over to him, snaking a hand around his neck and bringing his face closer to yours, “I really mean it.”

You lean in and kiss him, with more passion and want than the kisses you had shared before. You latch your lips around his lower one, sucking a little. He is warm and slightly apprehensive. You kiss him deeper, trying to prove that you wanted to be with him. You let your tongue roll over his bottom lip, opening up the kiss.

A slight moan from the back of his throat catches your ear, and you keep kissing him deeper, knowing that he likes it. His hands have made their way to your hips, although you are the one guiding the kiss.

Before he realizes it, his back is up against his bed and the two of you are falling backwards onto it.

You land slightly on top of him but refuse to break the kiss. You love the feeling of his soft tongue against yours, lips parted and meeting halfway. Your hands tangle themselves into his brown curls, another soft moan leaving his mouth when you tug a little at his roots. You continue to suck on his bottom lip as your fingertips begin to graze the stripe of exposed skin between his pants and his pushed-up t-shirt. You can feel the muscles in his stomach tense up underneath your touch.

His heavy breathing comes to a harsh stop with a sharp intake as you run your hands flatly across his toned stomach.

“Are you okay?” you ask, concerned, as he seemed to seize up the moment you started touching him.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. I didn’t mean to- I just- Ugh I’m sorry if I’m bad at this. I just don’t really know what I’m doing.”

You bring a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw, wrapping your hand in his reassuringly. “It’s okay, you don’t have to try and impress me or anything. I’m really enjoying myself so far, you’re a really good kisser, I promise.” You bring your lips back to his, cupping his face in the process.

He scooches back onto the bed, sitting up. “I don’t think you understand,” he starts, you can tell he’s on edge, “I’ve never really done this before. I’m… a virgin. I guess I just feel stupid, cuz I want this to be good for you, but I’m sort of clueless.”

“Okay,” you look him dead in the eyes, holding tightly onto his hand.

“Okay?” he asks, still feeling all over the place from telling you.

“Yeah, okay,” you try to play this as cool as possible, you want him to feel nothing but comfortable with you, “Peter, it’s fine, it's okay if you’ve never slept with someone.”

His eyes are wide and he’s still trying to read your reaction, “I promise I don’t care, and we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I just like spending time with you, no expectations.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to…” you had moved up on the bed to sit next to him at this point, legs still tangled together, “I’m just an idiot, and I feel bad, like you probably don’t want to sleep with someone who’s bad and inexperienced, and I really just want to make you feel good but I don’t know how…” he was frantically rambling at this point, face still flushed red.

“Peter,” you say slowly, trying to get him to focus, “I’m gonna be straight with you right now: you’re the first guy I’ve met in a long time who isn’t an egotistical asshole. You’re really sweet, and that’s honestly so hard to come by, I feel lucky to have met you. I can tell you’re super nervous, and you shouldn’t be. I like you a lot, so if you want to spend the night with me that’s cool, and if you don’t then that’s cool too.”

“Really?” you answer his question with a soft kiss, resuming the contact that you had before, “You’ll tell me if I'm horrible though?” His anxieties were slipping through again.

“I could… ya know, show you,” you suggest, his face lights up, “and if you’re bad it will only be a reflection of my poor teaching skills. And if I’m going to be completely honest with you here, most guys who are super experienced are still trash at sex, so the fact that you’ve even expressed concern about making me feel good gives you a massive leg up on most, so don’t sweat it.”

“You’re so fucking cool,” he brings a hand back up to your cheek, “sorry if I’m acting like a neurotic mess, I just honestly didn’t ever imagine being in this position with someone as beautiful as you.”

You feel yourself blushing at his compliment, pressing your face into his large palm. He tentatively guides your face to his, meeting your lips with his. You were glad to have had this conversation with him, because he kissed you with much more confidence. He was now sure of himself.

You decide to take the lead and swing your opposite leg over his lap, straddling him. You let your hands run up and down his arms, exploring his strong biceps, his toned sides and flexed stomach. You feel his tongue peek into your mouth, and you invite him in with an open-mouthed kiss, rolling your wet tongue against his.

You let your hands settle back in his hair, remembering how he liked it before when you gave it a tug. You found your hips rolling slightly into his with each kiss, effectively pressing your center down onto his. You couldn’t help but notice how hard he was, straining against his pants.

“Peter,” you say breathily into his mouth, “can I touch you?”

“Fuck,” his hips buck up slightly into you at your question, “please y/n.”

You let your hand trail down his stomach, fiddling with the hem of his shirt for a second. You tug at it, signaling for him to take it off. Before you could even take in the sight of his beautifully sculpted body, you trailed your hands underneath the waist of his pants, palming him above his boxers.

You knew you should move slowly, take your time with him and let it build up, but your senses were going wild. You wanted nothing more than to feel his cock in your mouth, inside of you. It felt so perfect in your hand, and although you couldn’t see it, you knew it was nice.

“Peter,” you whisper again between breathy kisses, “your cock feels so good in my hand, so hard for me already.”

You feel him shudder underneath you as you move from his mouth down to the underside of his jaw, sucking on a spot while you continue to jerk him off.

You slowly take care of the button on his pants, sliding them down his legs. The moment of separation makes you realize his hands had been placed firmly on your hips. After his pants were kicked off his legs, you grind down onto him again, less fabric separating you this time.

“Do you want to touch me?” you ask seductively into his ear as you continue to roll yourself down onto his clothed, but incredibly hard member. He gives you an eager nod, eyes blown and glassy from all the stimulation he was receiving at once.

You guide his hand from its place on your hip down between your legs. Up your skirt and over the sopping center of your cotton panties, his hands find their way to your center. You slow your movements over him, allowing him to feel around and get a sense of your body. He groans at the immediate contact, noticing the unavoidable wet patch around your entrance.

“Do you feel that?” you ask before kissing down his neck again, “feel how wet I am?”

He continues to meet your movements by pressing his hips up into you. You notice how responsive he is when you talk dirty to him, especially little compliments and words of praise. You could have your fun with this, make him fall apart just by telling him how well he’s doing.

“You did that to me Peter, you make me so fucking wet.”

He lets out a groan into your neck at your words. You take the opportunity to slip your hands under the waistband of his boxers, looking into his eyes for a second for silent permission to continue. You nip at his earlobe and whisper words of praise to him as you fully grasp his cock for the first time. Jerking him off slowly, you grind yourself down onto his hand, letting his fingers press harder into your underwear.

You move your other hand down to meet his, showing him how to rub circles on your clit. Moaning into his skin, you pull aside your underwear, completely wrecked at this point. You grant him access to your slick folds, ready and waiting for him.

“Fuck, Peter,” you fuck yourself down onto his long fingers, letting him comfortably slip inside you, “you’re doing so good, making me feel so good.”

You arch your back a little, giving him a good view of your face as he twisted his fingers inside you. You sit straight up, perpendicular to him now. Your full weight pressed down onto his hand, his middle two fingers fluttering perfectly inside of you with little instruction. You expose your chest by removing your shirt before leaning your arms down onto his shoulders. You grind your clit against his palm as his fingers work inside of you.

“Oh my god, Peter,” you bite your lip, “fuck, you’re going to make me come.”

He gives you a look before stuttering, “I- um, can I…”

“What is it,” you try to ask him genuinely but cant help the moans that slip out, “what do you want?”

“I, uh, I wanna taste you.”

“Fuck.” Your head falls back at his request, hair falling slightly over your face, mouth gaping open.

“Is that okay? Is that a weird thing to ask?” his voice was tentative, which made you chuckle a little considering his fingers were still fucking deeply into you.

“Peter, that’s so fucking hot.” You rush down to capture his lips in yours, letting your tongues meet. You bite down slightly onto his lower lip, knowing you wouldn’t be able to last much longer. You move down flat on your back, slipping off your only remaining garment, your skirt.

He takes the cue and removes his boxers as well, now leaving you both completely naked. You try to steal a look at his hard cock, but he quickly moves down in between your legs. He looks at your dripping pussy with wide brown eyes, a mix between glowing and uncertainty.

You start to give him instructions, trying to fulfill your role as teacher, “You can just- mmmmhhh fuck,” he meets his warm tongue with your entrance, licking a wide stripe up the middle.

“Fuck, just like that,” he continues to lick and suck, “and you can add a- fuck, Peter.” He always seems to know what you’re going to tell him seconds before you say it. He dips his two, already wet, fingers back into you as he sucks on your clit.

You arch your back, grinding yourself into his tongue slightly. Through pants, you tell him how close you are, how well he’s doing. With a final flick of his tongue, you clench around his fingers tightly and scrunch your face up in pleasure. Your hips gyrate against him, thighs shaking, hands grasping at the sheets, at his hair, at anything.

You let out his name with a strangled moan, knowing he would love hearing his name come from your lips as you reached your high. “Peter, fuck, Peter,” over and over.

You pull away slightly, telling him he can stop. You flop back, panting, hand coming up to your forehead.

“Um, was that? Was I okay?”

You couldn’t believe that after you had been writhing and coming underneath him, he would still question himself like that. “Yes,” you were still a little out of breath, “that was really fucking good.”

You move down the bed to meet him, pulling him into a deep kiss. You relished in the feeling of his warm mouth, the taste of yourself on his lips. You wrap your legs around his torso, kissing him more fiercely.

You look up at him, hair a mess and face red, “I want to make you feel good now.”

“I mean, we don’t have to, like, you don’t have to…”

“Peter,” you wrap your legs around him a little tighter, “do you want to fuck me?”

He groans slightly and thrown his head back, hands coming down to grab your ass.

“Please,” he half moans as you attack his neck with your tongue, “I really want to.”

“You have condoms?”

“Mhm, just give me sec,” he doesn’t want to stop toughing you, but untangles your bodies to move over to the side table drawer. He stands next to the bed, fiddling with the unopened condom box.

You have a devious idea, and decide to position yourself at the edge of the bed, legs propped up behind you, ass in the air, hands and mouth perched and ready for him. He turns slightly, condom package in hand.

“Before you put that on,” you bat your eyelashes up at him, “I want to taste you.” You quote his words from earlier as you take the base of his cock in your hand, pumping it slowly.

“Can I?” he gives you permission before you slip the tip between your puffy lips. He is fully stood above you as you take him into your mouth, gagging a little on his length. You bob your head back and forth, giving him the perfect view of your ass.

You run your tongue firmly against the underside of his shaft, giving a harsh suck to the spot where the body met the head.

“Y/n,” your name was shaky in his mouth, “I need to fuck you right now.”

You like the directness in his tone and reach up mid-blow to take the condom from him. You flip around, so you are now simply seated on the edge of the bed, Peter still standing. You rip the foil with your teeth and take the rubber out.

Pumping his shaft a few times before rolling the condom on, you bite your lip and look up at him, “I’m so fucking excited to have you inside me, gonna make me feel so good.”

You were impatient, so you simply laid back on the bed where you were sat, letting your legs dangling off the side. You could tell he was too impatient to move either, as he ran his cock up and down the length of your entrance, waiting for your signal to push into you.

You motion for him to grab your legs by the thighs, allowing him to fuck into you deeply.

“Holy shit,” he grunts out as his length fills you for the first time. You arch your back and grind yourself against him, letting out little desperate moans mixed with his name.

“Fuck, Peter you can move now, you can fuck me.”

Although this was an unusual position for someone’s first time, both you and Peter were loving it. He got to see all of you as he pushed into you, your face, your tits bouncing with each thrust, the way your pussy opened up and took his cock so well. His grip on the back of your knees tightened as he fucked you harder, slightly shaking the bed.

“Oh my god, Peter,” you make eye contact as his hair flops against his forehead with each thrust, “touch me, please, fuck, I need you.”

His stamina was incredible, relentlessly fucking you as his hand seamlessly found your clit, rubbing the tight circles you had shown him how to do earlier. He loved having you splayed out before him, making you feel good, hearing you tell him how well he was fucking you, how you needed more, more, more.

He notices the familiar look on your face as he feels your walls tighten around his length. He moans out, loving the feeling of you squeezing around him. His thrusts become deeper and slower as he brings you to your second orgasm. He observed the way you squirmed when he would touch you one way, back fully arched when he would touch you another way.

“Fuck, I-” you try to communicate, “Peter, I want to come all over your cock, please don’t stop fucking me, oh my god.”

He can’t help but close his eyes as he feels you tighten around him for the last time, letting your wet orgasm drip all over his dick. You shook underneath him, legs vibrating under his grasp. Your mouth fell into a perfect Oh, and the sounds that were coming from your lips almost sent him over the edge.

He wanted to keep fucking you though, he never wanted to stop. He wanted to make you feel good over and over for the rest of forever. You were coming down from your orgasm, still letting moans and words of praise fall from your lips to him. You loved how you could feel his dick twitch a little when you told him how good he was doing.

Fully fucked out from your last orgasm, you wanted to move onto the bed for him. You move back, causing him to slip out of you. For a moment, he thought you were done, which would have been fine, he only wanted what you wanted. He would just have to go take care of himself somewhere else…

It wasn’t until you moved up onto the bed and propped yourself up on all fours, arching your back perfectly for him, leaning down onto your forearms.

“Peter,” you coo to him, “will you fuck me like this?”

He couldn’t find the words to answer, only to hop onto the bed over eagerly and position himself behind you.

“Just grab my hips and- fuck,” he filled you up perfectly, rucking your hips back onto him with his hands.

The feeling of his strong hands grasping your hips, and his dick perfectly hitting that spot inside you was almost enough to push you over the edge for the third time. You had no control over the noises that were leaving your mouth, and you suspected the same was true for him.

His hips were snapping directly into yours, and you could feel his cock swell a little inside of you. He didn’t have to tell you for you to know he was close, but regardless,

“Y/n,” you name barely made its way past the grunts and profanities, “I’m gonna, fuck, I’m-”

You felt him fuck deeper into you, hitting a new spot for a few thrusts that made you see stars. You couldn’t do anything but fuck yourself back onto him and scream his name. His orgasm washed over him, his sweaty chest quickly falling to meet your back. His hands grasped around you, something in between a hug and gripping for dear life.

He pulled out of you, and rolled over onto the pillow next to you.

“How was that?” you asked, less nervously than how he had asked you earlier, but curiously, “for your first time?”

“I-” he couldn’t even begin to come up with the words to tell you how fucking amazing it had been, he pulls you down for a long kiss, sweaty foreheads meeting. “We can do that again, right?”

You let out a laugh, “right now?” with raised eyebrows.

“Nonono, just like, in general?” he already knew your answer with the way you smiled at him.

“Peter, nobody has ever made me come like that, of fucking course we can do it again.”

You offer to take care of the condom, and head over to the bathroom to pee and clean up. Peter laid back with eyes closed, feeling unreal about what had just happened. He couldn’t help but let his mind wander to all the things he wanted to do with you. He wanted to use his spider strength to lift you up, fuck you against a wall, in the shower, on the floor, everywhere and in every position.

You returned with a hand towel for him, “Was I an okay teacher?”

“You tell me,” he joked.

You flop down on the bed next to him, letting your sticky body tangle with his in a new way.

“You’re fucking amazing,” he tells you, “but I think there are some new things I want to show you next time.”

You look at him with raised eyebrows, and let out a giggle as you bury your head into the crook of his neck. He kisses the top of your hair softly. You couldn’t help but feel a little flustered at the notion of fucking him again, of getting fucked by him again. But also, the notion of spending more time with him just in his bed, wearing one of his nerdy t-shirts and getting your hair stroked as you doze off to sleep.

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