#challenge: ray writes a short to the point response

[rayofmisfortune]

I remembered one of the questions I was going to ask, how does Dani/Ellie work when/if they exist later on? Will they also have the same sort of ghost form Danny has, as in the switch from Phantom to Fenton and all, or will Dani not be that?

Also I assume the whole thing with Super Danny and fun Danny doesn’t happen? And I mean if it does, the whole splitting thing, than how different would it be for them?

Dani/Ellie aka the clones and stuff

Vlad views Danny as... flawed due to the way the portal accident and mental trauma from it ended up splitting him into two people instead of just giving him flashy ghost powers like had happened with Vlad. Skill issue smh

Vlad would make clones of Danny and Phantom to... "fix" them. To make the perfect son. But he comes into too many problems while creating these clones.

About Ellie. Vlad is unable to create clones that are able to switch between forms. So then Ellie is created as a pure ghost clone. No human for her qwq (I guess if you wanted to go crazy with it she could have a human body she could possess and stuff kekw)

Identity Crisis

And to get into Identity Crisis! I've rewritren that one a bunch of times, tryin to find something that worked lmao this one is a lil more comolicated so bare with me here while I try to make it make sense

The Fentons find out Danny is Phantom. However, they think that Danny is being overshadowed by Phantom. They use the ghost catcher to separate Danny from that nasty no good ghost. They plan on using Phantom as a test subject for their experiments.

Shit happens. They do the deed with Danny kicking and screaming but at the same time thinking "Hey, if this somehow goes okay maybe I won't have to deal with constantly blacking out and feeling cold all the time!" Gotta look on the positives ykyk

Anyway, they separate. Stuff happens. A lotta stuff. Phantom flees. Danny copes, lives in denial. (They both do, let's be fr) Pretends like nothing's wrong, even when he's suddenly tired all the timey even after a good night's sleep and energy drink do shit. He felt okay for a little while, however that cold he felt whenever their ghost sense went off became a constant.

Phantom isn't doing much better. For a while he relishes in getting to just be around when there's no threat around. That ain't gonna last tho lol. It's been about a week since they've split and Phantom starts noticing his form growing foggy, drippy. Definitely not good.

When Technus shows up. Phantom is in no shape to take him on. He has no choice but to seek out Danny. At the same time, Danny's basically become a walking freezer, hasn't slept in days due to the cold and is out of options. Out of options, he reluctantly asks Sam and Tucker to help him look for Phantom.

They meet up, weird separation side effects go away and they realize that they kinda actually maybe really need each other.

The rest of the episode from here goes kind of as in the show. (Phantom doesn't try to overshadow Danny tho, he hangs around invisibly til they get back to FentonWorks)

They try to use the ghost catcher to get them back together again. That kind of uhhh effs up, they DO merge back. They merge back too well tho. Ahoy arc 3 and the best boys navigating stuff while learning to properly co-exist! Their first trial? Beating a high tech Technus while one of them has never done anything like that before! Nothing will go wrong I'm sure

[mariacallous]

In the days before the Trump administration took office, we recognized, as did many others, the imminent threats of autocracy to the United States. That is why we published the 2025 edition of the Democracy Playbook. We outline seven pillars essential to defending democratic governance, freedoms, and the rights of every citizen in the U.S. and around the world. Our concerns about how some of the early actions of the new administration might impact U.S. democracy are not mere speculations now—they are happening.  

In this piece, we shed light on several pressing risks to three vital democracy pillars—protecting elections, defending rule of law, and fighting corruption. We will focus on the serious threats facing the other four pillars in future pieces. We also highlight recent and impactful actions from key democracy defenders on the frontlines, including ongoing litigation and peaceful protests, as well as opportunities to bolster the pillars of democracy. Understanding these risks, the actions being taken, and how pro-democracy actors respond is essential to preserving the short- and long-term health of American democracy, economy, and national security. We are prioritizing writing timely analysis and recommendations, including actionable strategies for protecting the pillars and building stronger democracy guardrails in the weeks and months to come.  

Over three weeks into the new administration, as forecasted, we have seen President Trump and his administration issue a blitz of executive actions, many of which overtly challenge the checks and balances and separation of powers that are fundamental to the U.S.’s constitutional governance. The pillars of protecting elections, defending rule of law, and fighting corruption—three of the most crucial ones highlighted in our Democracy Playbook 2025—have taken some of the worst blows. It is likely that these actions will continue over the next four years and that the deepening reality will require democracy actors to engage in a multi-year effort to prevent a historic slide—a worst-case scenario.  

With that said, there are rays of hope and visible responses from across the U.S. We have already seen examples of dedicated democracy actors showing they are fully awake. These actors—not cowed by an apparent shock-and-awe approach reminiscent of strategies from autocratic regimes like in Hungary or Russia—are taking important actions to defend U.S. democracy and the Constitution, fight for freedoms and transparent governance, and prevent critical systems of checks and balances from being trampled. While we will continue to assess developments over time, our review of recent events already points to the importance of widening the coalition of pro-democracy actors to effectively and sustainably address these threats to democracy.  

[g0thic-ghost]

Would you ever write for Vincent Sinclair, Charles lee ray or hannible (tv or movie )?

Replying to : Stygianoir

Note: Sorry if I responded sort of late, I don’t tend to log Into my blog that often! As im pretty busy handling other things. But here is my response.

Response Date: 5/28/24

Would I write for Vincent Sinclair ?

I would make the effort to, as I’m not a big enthusiast for the movie “House of Wax”. I tend write about characters which are in shows/movies I have a heavy interest in ; I do so because I feel like I could pin-point the character’s personality perfectly, or have a general liking to the character. So writing about Vincent would be quite hard to so, but I’m always up for a challenge! And I think that I can make the effort on writing about him someday.

Would I write for Charles Lee Ray ?

Most definitely ! I’m a big fan of the whole Chucky Campaign, weither it comes to movies, writings, art and merchandise. I’m a big enthusiast; Writing about Charles Lee Ray would be something that is in my bucket list, as I do plan on writing about him. And I would be happy to take any requests that suggest writing about him..

Would I write for Hannibal ?

I’d make the effort, I have watched short segments of the show and I’d like to say that I could make a good effort at it. The whole series and especially Hannibal’s character makes me interested ; I plan on finishing the show and soon after making a writing on him!

[defdaily]

‪[TRANSLATION] Arena Homme+ Magazine April 2021 Issue featuring JAY B

Translated by defdaily.

JAY B is free and starting again from scratch. That is what JAY B has in mind. GOT7’s leader announced that he would be leaving JYPE as the group stays together. JAY B is preparing to debut as a solo musician while planning to also release mixtapes and hold exhibitions as Def. We had a chat with JAY B, who has gained more freedom and strength, at the swimming pool about courage, depression, literature and aspirations.

Did you come here alone?

Yes. I took a taxi here. I was the type to go around freely even when I was in JYPE but catching the taxi to work this time around felt new.

All GOT7 members decided to leave JYP but stay together as a group. As a leader, you needed to make a decision, right?

Although we ended up leaving JYPE, we wanted to continue as GOT7. We all agreed to leave [JYPE] and try it between ourselves.The product made from me taking responsibility/taking charge was the single 'Encore’ that was released not too long ago. I was involved in the whole process with a new record label. I was happy to see a good response [to the single]. It was lacking in some areas but I was just very proud that we were able to show a different step. Since we showed through this single that “we did not disband”, what’s next is more important. When we left JYPE, Director Jung Wook mentioned "Your role as a leader starts now." I'm realizing it now.

”I wanted to learn everything about the process of releasing an album and how difficult it is. I wanted to start again from scratch.”

Your role as a leader actually starts now.

I used to find the role of a leader burdensome at times but now I feel a greater sense of responsibility. While supporting each person’s journey, I thought I needed to be the one to step up once we got back together. We also talk regularly in our group chat. Not long ago, Jackson went to China. When Mark went to the USA, I could see him off but when Jackson was leaving, we couldn’t be together because of a schedule. So I told him to have a safe flight, apologised for not being able to see him off and thanked him too. He replied saying he’ll take care and be back.

What motivated you to leave the large agency you've been working with for a long time?

The thought came to mind suddenly as we were promoting as GOT7. Am I taking all these benefits I get for granted? When a schedule is released I just do it, and when they ask me to confirm things I do, but what kind of long process has it gone through before it came to me? Who sends a request and how is it processed? Why am I only waiting until it reaches me and simply watching it unfold? I wanted to be directly involved in that process. I wanted to learn everything about the process of releasing an album and how difficult it is. I want to be humble and start from the bottom again.

Didn't you need the courage?

Of course I did. I was also afraid. My position has risen to all the way up here, but when it comes to my actual knowledge, I think I'm only down there. I was afraid that the difference would feel too big once I left the company. But I think I would have been more afraid if I stayed at JYPE. Since that difference would have grown bigger and bigger. My real self is here, so I should face it head-on a little faster. That's what I thought.

As JAY B or as Def. who releases mixtapes and holds exhibitions, you must have had the desire to do something new.

I want to do research and build it up step by step without haste. JAY B will show hip hop and RnB music that appeals to the general public and Def. will do activities that Def. wants to do. It could be mixtapes or exhibitions, or other different kinds of fictions. Def. is the nickname I used as a bboy before I became a trainee. It’s like air floating about freely. It could be house or soul or acoustic or even modern rock. In a way, you can say that Def. is close to my “main self” but since I debuted as JAY B, I’ll also show a devoted side of myself through JAY B. I want to be a person who can do both what he has to do and what he wants to do freely.

Listening to your mixtapes, and hearing that you like the styles of D’Angelo and Ray Charles, you seem to be attached to the Southern US rhythm and blues and soul music.

I do like them a lot. I like the entire hip-hop culture that originated from there. That culture also includes DJing, graffiti and even bboying. Since I started as a bboy, I would look up older videos to watch, study the culture and also look into what each dance move symbolizes, with my bboying crew and that's how I became fascinated. What captivated me the most was their obstinacy. I felt respect towards the conviction and obstinacy they carried with their culture.

Is that mood still incorporated in your music and dance?

Yes. For example, I don’t think choreography is dance. I think dancing is when music plays and you like the rhythm and start humming and bobbing your head and moving your body. I think dancing is a free act you do out of enjoyment.

What was the reason you joined an idol group after starting out as a bboy?

I gained an interest in music too, not just dancing. When I was young, I listened to D’Angelo’s music and wanted to become a singer like him. But I was rebellious when I first joined JYPE. Haha. I was even suspended for a month once as a trainee. I definitely said hello but they said I didn’t so they said "If you're going to be stubborn, then go home" and me with my young heart replied “Then I shall head home.” and left. Then I met up with my bboying crew after a long time, and in just a few months it turned into a different world. The crew members were above me and I was worried because I could feel myself far away by myself. Should I go back to bboying? Should I continue as a trainee? In the end, I wanted to do my very best in whatever I chose so I decided to focus on becoming a singer. Since I wanted to do music, it was a choice I made with no regrets.

You started as a dancer and ended up as a main vocalist. What was music to you back then?

It was a challenge. Trainees are divided into singing and dancing. I joined as a dancer but what I wanted to do was become a singer and not just do dance. But since I was put into the dancing division, I worked even harder with singing to break that prejudice. I often felt defeated. I still feel defeated with singing. Haha. But music is about endless research. Now it’s more about research than studying.

You grew up as an only child to your parents who did farming?

I was an ordinary kid. I enjoyed Haruki’s Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage and thought the “colourless” kid was just like me. I was a calm kid who helped his parents with their farm work. I don’t know if it’s because I don’t have any older siblings but they said I used to talk to myself a lot. My mother said there was a way she would know if I was home or not. If I was home, she would hear me talk to myself and be like “Oh really?” “Yes really” haha.

It’s extraordinary to read Haruki at that age.

There was an older friend that I knew and he was really cool. He looked really cool reading on the bus with his legs crossed. He said “Hey, Read a book and build up some knowledge.” As I was trying to be cool like him, I gained a favourite author and started reading more since I enjoyed it.

What kind of books do you like?

When I was a teenager I often read Kafka On The Shore. It felt like Kafka was just like me, and so while reading it, I even cried. The style of Murakami Radio was also interesting. The ending phrase “But I like that more…” was very witty. I’m collecting books from secondhand bookstores from authors who won the Young Author awards. I like Lee Jang-wook's short story Byeon Hee-bong. The main character knows the actor Byun Hee-bong, but the world doesn't know him. He would ask "Don't you know Byun Hee-bong from the movie The Host?" But no one knows. I like stories that don’t intend to be funny but they end up making me giggle.

What do you read these days?

I try to read poetry. I purchased and read the first volume that appeared on Moonji’s Poetry Collection, but it has too many Hanja characters. Haha. I started with Munhwak’s Poetry Collection. I have volumes 1 to 85. I also read poet Park Joon's collection of poems and poet Lee Eun-gyu's Affectionate Name. I even underlined and wrote things down.

Among the idols and musicians I’ve met, I think you are the most extensive reader.

We went on tours often and we would have a lot of time in my hotel room. When I went out I took pictures and when I stayed in my hotel room I read books. When I go on an overseas tour, I pack around 30 books in my suitcase. Then I bring back the books that left an impression on me, and those that didn’t sometimes I dispose of them there. These days, I look for independent publications too. I often look for independent publishing bookstores in Nakseongdae or Haebangchon. There are many books that contain honest stories that are not refined, and the power of those sentences is great.

How does reading influence your work?

The poetic expressions with poetic license help when writing lyrics. You read a new sentence and think “What is this expressing?” You receive inspiration from that image being expressed in a new way. I think of lyrics as poetry too. There are times I write how I feel honestly, but when I want to include a certain meaning I’d want to write the lyrics like poetry.

In your photo exhibition <ALONE> last year, you took pictures of objects and signs in the middle of the road.

Wouldn't it feel very lonely if you think about it from an object’s point of view? The camera captures just an instance but the object will stay there. I think each person has an insatiable loneliness. I like the artist Seonglib’s works, and I feel loneliness in his drawings. I don't know why I keep talking about loneliness, I guess I’m familiar with loneliness.

Seems like you take more pictures of objects and landscapes than people.

I don’t really like taking pictures of people. You can clearly see a person’s emotions in their eyes. I prefer hiding things rather than revealing them too much. I prefer objects, backgrounds, and natural objects rather than subjects that openly express 'It's me!'. Tranquil things, I like when you go past something and go “that’s how it was.” I try my best since my job requires being presented to people but that’s also how I am.

Who do you like as a movie director?

I like Woody Allen’s directing. My favourite is Match Point. It's a love story that goes beyond taboos, and it's electrifying. The face of the actor who secretly asks the reunited lover to give him her number remains in my memory for a long time. How could he direct such a real-looking, raw look in their eyes? When I was a theater and film major, I used to take directing classes rather than acting. If I were to direct a film, I would like to shoot an eccentric witty romantic comedy like Love Fiction directed by Jeon Gye-soo.

Are you self-conscious as an artist?

I’m interested in a variety of genres, and interact with crews often, but I think goofing off just because they are an artist is an arrogant attitude. Everyone is their own artist, no matter what they do, right? I'm not trying to be pretentious, I just think there's a difference in expression, and people who work in the office are also doing their own art. That’s why I’m a little shy about the title “artist.” Is there a need to be puffed up with pride because I’m an artist? I’m just a person.

While filming for “What's in my bag” and revealed your medications for depression and panic disorder. When did you face your depression?

I didn’t know I had depression. I thought I was being weak for a short while and let it pass. But on an occasion I got examined and found out I had depression. They asked how I lived by without going to the psychiatrist. I said I just thought I was the type to feel blue. Haha. I’m the type that doesn’t show [what is wrong] but they said I was in a state where I needed treatment. After going to counselling and taking medications, I’m much better now.

“I just wanted to talk about it. It may not show, but depression is both a common and dangerous illness.”

I think you’re cool for having the courage to talk about this.

I got diagnosed and looked at the people around me. There are friends who are ashamed of it and try to hide it, and there are friends who talk about it as if it’s insignificant. I just wanted to talk about it. It may not show, but it’s both a common and dangerous illness. A mental illness is an illness too. Among my fans, or those who read this interview, if there is someone who feels depressed, don’t be ashamed of it and I hope you receive treatment and overcome it. It’s not an embarrassing thing and it doesn’t need to be hidden. And I was filming content where I show what’s inside my bag; I can’t lie. I wish everyone would be healthy.

Are you bad at lying?

Yes. If I have to tell a lie, I think it’s just better to not say anything. Since I’m the type that’s honest and straightforward, I also don’t like beating around the bush.

Can you share a way one can take a step forward towards recovering from depression?

Look at the world in a broad view. Know that there are many places you haven’t been to yet and there are many things you haven’t felt yet. It's also good to take a walk and go off your usual route and take a path you've never been on. Small adventures can also be of great help. Just by leaving the house you’re already halfway there. I think there are more ways you can refresh yourself outside rather than inside. Also, I thought I was an honest person but after being diagnosed with depression, I thought I should be more honest with myself and more faithful to myself. At times like this, think of yourself before others.

What do you believe in?

I just believe in god. I don’t have a religion. I don’t know what kind of existence god is but I do believe that there is a god. When I’m thankful or am having a hard time, I pray. “Thank you.” “Please let me get through this wisely.”

What is the greatest motivation that moves you?

As long as I’m alive, I want to continue doing work that will leave a message. I believe that there is no next life. I think I should live this time diligently to the fullest. To have no regrets.

Translated by defdaily.

[the-only-ace]

can you please write something about taem's enlistment? honestly feel awful i feel like he's lowkey sad about it i just wanna give baby cheese a hug :(

haiii i love this request since it is really well... timely (?). i have been planning to finish this request before taemin's enlistment but yeah, here we are... things been busy. so i hope this one is not that late and may this be some sort of comfort for everyone as we wait for our baby cheese's return.

serve well and always take care, taem! we will be just here and wait for your return with bright smiles on our faces.

taemin scenario: looking forward

pairing: taemin x reader

word count: 2.7k

summary: it is taemin's last few hours before his military enlistment and reader tries their best to ease his worries. both are making sure that they have spent the remaining time together to the fullest.

warning: semi-nudity, implied sexual activity (no smut thought)

send in your requests here!

your eyelids slowly fluttered open and soft rays of sunlight greeted your still adjusting eyes. you attempted to rub the sleepiness away from your eyes before slowly sitting up. your raised both of your arms above your head and stretched with a small grunt. the sheets fell down and exposed your naked torso to the cool breeze from the air conditioner. you looked at your side and smiled gently. you rested your cheek on your bended knee and gazed at the sleeping figure beside you.

taemin was sleeping soundly on his chest and the blanket was comfortably wrapped around his hips while his broad bare shoulders were displayed to you. his head was tilted to the side, facing your direction. his eyes were closed with a hint of dark circles visible underneath them--a sign of his hard work within the last few months. his lips were slightly parted and you can hear his soft breaths. his hair that used to be unruly as they got ruffled by the pillows was now cut short. you can't help but reach out and touch them with your cold fingers.

there he was, the love of your life. it may sound cheesy and a bit cliche but it was true. he was your first boyfriend and you were more than pleased that you're still together given how young you both were when you met years ago. you went through a lot of ups and downs like every other relationship out there. it was also challenging at first especially with the nature of his work since he can not fully dedicate his time to you. you eventually got over it mainly because you knew how important and passionate he was with his career. every after his performances, you can see his eyes lit up and his lips stretched into a big bright smile. it was then you knew you have to support this man. you have to be his rock when things got shaky and unstable.

you two actually hit a big milestone in your relationship quite recently. you were living with him for more than a year already and both of you were still amazed how no media outlet has sniffed it out yet. also considering the number of times taemin recorded a live video around the apartment, you're just thankful there were still no accidental reveals.

your train of thought was cut short when taemin suddenly stirred on his position. "sorry, did i wake you?" you asked softly as you retracted your hand away from his hair.

he shook his head before dragging himself towards you. his arms found their way around your waist and his head rested contently on your lap. you smiled at his behavior and then proceeded to stroke his hair again. both of you stayed like that for a bit and soaked into each other's presence while waiting for the drowsiness to pass.

"is it weird?" his muffled voice broke the silence after a few minutes.

"what is?" you inquired back.

"my hair." he rolled to his back and looked up at you.

"it's... new." of course it was, just a few days ago you were happily playing with his hair and extensions. he always allowed you put it up into a bun whenever he came back home. now, you can barely grip them with your fingers. "it's not weird, just new. it actually made you look younger in my opinion." you reassured him with a small giggle.

he frowned and groaned, clearly displeased on your response. he thought you were just lying to make him feel better. he won't believe you anyway even you deny it so you decided to ignore his sulking. you then began drawing lazy shapes across his skin while he started to hum one of his songs. your fingers eventually linger around his tattoos and you can't help but admire them.

"should i get one?" you muttered more to yourself actually but taemin heard it very distinctly. it made him shot up from the bed and beamed at you widely.

"you should!" he exclaimed excitedly. '"i mean if you really want to. we can even go to my artist and get one together."

"okay, calm down, mister." you chuckled since was almost bouncing with enthusiasm. "where should i place it though?"

"well... it would look nice here." he reached out and touch your rib area. his eyes soon landed on the red mark beside his index finger and a playful smirk slowly made its way to his lips. "or here..." he continued and moved his pointer on your collar bone, on another one of his marks. "here would be good too..." he went on and on while pointing out all of his work while his grin grew bigger and naughtier.

"stop..." you rolled your eyes and push his hand away. "i know what you're doing. someone went overboard last night." you can't help but narrow your eyes at him. it would be a pain to hide later when you go to work.

"i'm sorry, i just thought they would be a great parting gift." he shrugged before leaning closer. "so did you like it?" he raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"eh... it's alright, i guess." you teased with a joking scowl.

"well, that can be fixed easily." he tackled and pinned you down in the bed, making you let out a high-pitch scream. he wasted no time on littering quick kisses all over your neck. you writhed under him as you attempted to escape him since you were feeling ticklish from his soft lips.

a blaring alarm noise interrupted your noises and movements. taemin pushed himself up and looked at the clock on your bedside table. he took a deep heavy sigh before dismissing the alarm. you immediately felt the change in his mood as he got up from the bed.

"i'll go brew us some coffee," he announced and got out of the bedroom.

it was now your turn to sigh. you already tried your best to ease his worries yesterday but just like you have predicted he was still troubled. you can't blame him though, after doing only one thing ever since he was only 12 years old, you get why he was anxious about this upcoming change. not to mention that he will be going through this alone in a way. his other members enlisted at the same time so the thought of someone experiencing the same helped them get through it much easier.

you got up and walked towards the chair near the bed and snatched taemin's shirt that was carelessly hanging from its backrest. you pulled it down your head and you can't help but smell his scent; it was his favorite shirt after all. god, you were going to miss him so bad.

you followed taemin towards the kitchen and the aroma of the coffee greeted you. he looked at you from head to toe and it made him smirk. he knew how much you love stealing his shirts. it was quite comforting to know that at least his clothes will be used even though he was away.

preparing breakfast was peaceful and intimate. taemin was hugging you from behind while you cook your meal; outrightly ignoring your protests since it was not really easy to move around with him clinging to you. in a few minutes, both of you are sitting down at the dining table and quietly enjoying the hot food in front of you.

it felt like a normal lazy morning. days like these were common after his promotions. it was when he has some time to rest and replenish his energy. those were the days you always anticipate since you were able to see him more often and spend more quality time together. if he didn't have a buzz cut, it was easy to fool yourself that this day was one of those.

"do you think, i'll do well?" he suddenly asked when he placed his chopsticks down.

"of course," you quickly replied without missing a beat. no matter how many times you convinced him already, you will never get tired of doing it if that will give him peace of mind.

"what makes you say so?" he looked up and met your unwavering eyes. "what if i'm not fit for it?"

"and what if you are?" you challenged. "look, we'll never know something unless we try it but trust me, knowing you, you'll do just fine. they used to criticize your singing career back then and look where you are now. you don't let external factors affect you and you always work hard to achieve your goals. so what makes this different? i know once you set your heart to something, you'll be able to do it. you just have to trust yourself as well."

"always saying the right words," he sighed and rested his head on his hand. "what will i be without you?"

"still probably as great as you are now." you knew that taemin achieved his success on his own. all those late-night practices and sacrificing a normal life as a teen, it was all him. you were only his supporter who hopefully made the process a bit easier. "besides, you crushed the obstacle course in dream team last time so i believe the drills will be manageable for you." you cheekily added.

"wow, you still remember that? i'm no minho though." he shook his head while chuckling.

"no one's like that competitive monster." you scoffed.

"yeah..." he trailed off, obviously being concern about another matter again. "i hope our fans won't forget me."

"don't be stupid." you frowned and kicked him lightly under the table. "of course they would wait for you especially after being their comfort when the other members were serving their time. i'm sure that they would be counting the days for your return and they would be delighted to see you again. although, no one would be more thrilled than me so... don't forget me as well."

"how can i forget you if i will be thinking of you every single day?" he stood up and gave you a kiss on the forehead. "thank you."

"for what?" you inquired.

"for always being there especially when i need it the most." his tone was warm and heartfelt. "i should probably take a shower now."

you nodded and listened to his footsteps disappear into the bathroom. as soon as you heard the water running, you stood up as well and placed the plates on the sink. you then went back to your shared bedroom and doubled check the contents of his black backpack, making sure that he did not forget anything important. knowing him, there was a huge chance that he does. you also added a few extra clothes and toiletries just in case he did something stupid and end up breaking or losing some of his stuff.

it felt wholesome to pack his things for him. as if you were his wife helping him prepare for his upcoming trip. if only the trip wasn't going to be 18 months long.

the time flew by quickly after taemin's shower and suddenly you were by the doorway, watching him wear the straps of his backpack. you handed him his black baseball cap before fixing the strings of his black hoodie.

"you all set?" you asked trying hard not to make your voice crack. it was finally sinking in for you and you didn't want him to know that.

"yeah," he nodded as he fixed his cap.

both of you stood there, not really knowing what to do or say next. you should probably wish him luck and send him off but you don't want to. not yet, you keep on repeating to yourself. sensing your dejection, taemin suddenly grabbed your wrist and pulled you into one of the tightest hugs he has ever given. your hands quickly wrapped around him and you buried your face on his chest, inhaling his scent and trying to memorize it--even though you already do.

"i'm going to miss you," he whispered tenderly. "so much."

"i will miss you too." you finally let out the sob you were holding back. thinking that it was impossible, his embrace tightened even more around your shaking frame.

he kissed the top of your head and murmured how much he loves you again and again. right then and there, you wanted to be selfish and don't let him go, and as if on cue his phone started to ring. he answered it and their conversation was less than a minute but you know exactly what it was about.

"they're downstairs already," he stated as he let go of you.

"you should not keep them waiting then." you clumsily wipe away the tears in your eyes.

you both bid your goodbyes before sharing one last kiss. he then got out of the apartment and closed the door behind him.

and just like that, you were left there in complete silence. you blankly stare at the closed door and you never felt more alone in your life.

you were about to turn around when the door burst open without warning. standing there was taemin who unmistakably ran back considering his heavy pants.

"taemin?!" you exclaimed from the shock. "what, did you forget something?"

"yes, i forgot to ask you something." he exhaled. "i forgot to ask you to marry me," he said in full seriousness while staring straight into your eyes.

"y-you... what? huh?" you fumbled with your words as your brain tried to process whatever he just said. "w-what did you say? i don't--" you attempted to ask again.

"when i get discharged, will you marry me?" he repeated as he moved closer towards you. you just gaped at him without saying a word and that made the nervousness slowly crept into him. "sorry, i was not able to get a ring since this was... well, spontaneous. but um... here, will this do?" you watched him remove the ring he was always wearing on his right hand. he unceremoniously raised it in front of you and waited for your reply.

you were beyond stunned. sure, you both talked about getting married someday but you didn't think he would propose today. you always knew that when he planned for the special day, you will easily catch on. he was not really the best planner and secret keeper after all. nothing has prepared you for this moment.

"y/n?" he cautiously called out, getting a little concern from your lack of response.

you looked away from the ring and moved your eyes to meet his uneasy ones. he was undoubtedly waiting for your answer.

"yes," you barely managed to blurt out. "yes, of course, i do!" you repeated, this time firmer.

you have practically seen the weight off his back after hearing your response. he broke into a tiny celebration dance before composing himself again and sliding the ring into your finger.

"okay... i didn't think about that part." the ring was big for you which was not surprising. "sorry, i'll just get you a new one soon." he embarrassingly rubbed the back of his neck.

"it's alright, it's perfect." you can now feel another urge to cry but this time it is out of happiness.

"i love you," his expression soften and one eyebrow raised up, a habit of his whenever he says something genuine. he titled your chin up and captured your lips for a passionate kiss. you stand on your tiptoes in your attempt to deepen the kiss which made him smile. his other hand moved to your lower back and pulled you closer to him while you ran your fingers through his hair. it felt right, both of you know exactly that this is where you two belong--with each other.

however, your little heaven was interrupted once again by the ringing of his phone.

"okay, you should definitely go now." you ultimately let go of your hold around him.

he nodded. he knew he cannot delay his departure any longer. "goodbye."

"goodbye," you echoed. "just for now."

he waved his hand before going out and shutting the door. this time though, he did not come back running. you knew he was on his way to his enlistment and you would be alone in the apartment for months but right now, you did not feel that lonely anymore.

you looked down and adored the ring around your finger. 18 months would indeed move slowly but it will be bearable because this time, both of you have something to look forward to.

[roanniom]

okay but 10/10 would pull hot lawyer in by his tie and make tf out with him

Get You Off

(Original photo source @the-adam-driver-files but made b&w by me)

Lawyer!Kylo Ren x Reader

Word Count: 1,252

Warnings: NSFW, simple PIV smutty smut, I guess semi-public (there are people in the next room)

The real question is, are you doing this before or after the trial? You giving into temptation when you spend time in his office, brushing hands over legal documents as he goes over the details of the defense? He’s telling you some important info about the one thing you have to make sure to say on the stand, but you’re too busy appraising the way his body looks in that gorgeous, tailored, fitted suit to pay attention?

Kylo urges you to stay focused, you’re not going to win otherwise. But right now you want to win something else. His eyes widen as you grab him by his luxurious silk tie and wrench him forward, bringing his lips crashing to yours. Though you’re the one who takes the initiative he catches up quick, hands rushing to your waist, gripping your hips, squeezing your ass. You’re so eager, propelled forward by the tension that has been mounting over days of listening to his authoritative voice, watching those massive hands sliding across forms and papers, imagining them sliding through something else. He presses in against you, caging you in until you’re backing up, pulling him right along by the tie. 

Until your back’s against the wall and suddenly you’re being lifted. Pressed against the brick of his small office. Small since he’s still new to the firm of course, though with his many talents you’re sure he won’t stay here for long. What’s certainly not small is the massive bulge that presses up against you as he grinds his hips against yours, your legs squeezing around his waist to keep you aloft. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you say breathlessly with a smile and not a single ounce of sincerity. Your statement obligatory but only teasing. Kylo’s lips bruise their way down your jaw, your throat, until his teeth sink into the flesh of your shoulder, causing you to buck into him and cry out. You should care that the paralegals outside his office can probably hear you but you just don’t. You know that if roles were reversed they would be equally happy to wind their legs around this god in a good suit.

“You shouldn’t have committed that crime, either. Life is full of things you shouldn’t do,” he says in a low, measured voice. His eyes are hooded and he watches you as he tongues the spot he had bitten so deeply at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, just as a hand slides down to cup your mound through your stylish cigarette pants. His index finger presses tight circles through the fabric, somehow zeroed in right over your clit, if a little off center, making you gyrate your hips in desperate need for more, harder, him. 

“But you don’t strike me as a woman who says no to her desires just because they are improper.”

“And you don’t seem like a man who gives a fuck if a woman’s desires are improper.”

Suddenly you’re whirled around and seated on the edge of his desk, paperwork flying everywhere. You should probably care about that. Those papers were the key to your acquittal. To your freedom from scrutiny. To your ability to walk away from this world of hearings and trials and litigation. But as he pushes against you to make your back press into the hard wood of his desk, his body finding its place between your thighs, clothed cock nudging insistently at your core, walking away is the last thing on your mind.

“You, my dear, are more than improper,” Kylo says, his voice low. His hands leave your waist – rendered unnecessary by the intense way his pelvis keeps you pinned to the table – traveling up your body to rip open your blouse. Buttons ricochet and it’s absurd, its cliché, its overly dramatic, but the way his hands descend on your bra-clad breasts are none of those things. More like rough, delicious, demanding. He kneads the heaving flesh and licks a long stripe up the valley between them, starting from your sternum and ending with a lascivious suck right beneath your pulse point. You moan at full volume now, hips undulating against his, thighs pulling him in for more pressure. Kylo chuckles against your throat, holding you down against the table by the weight of his grasp on your breasts. “The word ‘obscene’ comes to mind.”

“That’s slander,” you reply, though it comes out in a huff. Suddenly Kylo reduces contact, pulling away his upper body. You sit up on your elbows in panic, only find him watching you with a bemused smirk, hips still slotted between your thighs, hands working deftly at his belt.

“What are you going to do, sue me?”

When Kylo frees his cock – and absolute monster, red at the tip and leaking with precum – his hands move to your hips, yanking down your pants as if they personally offended them. You’d teased him in short dresses and skirts every other day since he’d begun counseling you. How fucking dare you make it harder for him today, of all days.

Once divested of your pants you pull Kylo to by the tie again, this time slower.

“I’ll sic my lawyer on you,” you whisper against the shell of his ear when he’s finally bent over you fully, distracted by the task of lining himself up with your entrance. “He’s a real wolf. Goes for the jugular.”

Kylo practically growls in response before sheathing himself fully in your soaking cunt. You clench around him immediately, barely getting to flutter your walls before he’s pulling back and ramming right back in. The desk squeaks with the force of his strokes and the way your body slides against it. Oh yes. The paralegals are jealous.

“Sounds like he’ll get you off,” Kylo spits through gritted teeth, though humor dances behind his black-blown eyes. Your own eyes roll back in your head when his hand roughly takes hold of one of your breast, manhandling it and pinching at the nipple.

“Oh he’ll get me off – ah!” You almost lose your ability to speak for a second, which would a shame because it would mean you’d have to stop this verbal dance. Through heavy pants you speak up again. “He’s really…really…good.”

“Oh yeah? He’s good?” Kylo eggs you on. Sweat collects on his brow and his perfectly coiffed hair bounces looser, more tousled, but otherwise he still seems remarkably put together, in spite of the look of agonized pleasure rippling across his face. His cock protrudes from his open pants but other than that his clothes are surprisingly unrumpled. You, on the other hand, must look thoroughly debauched with your bare legs around his waist, panties pulled to the side, shirt ripped open and his hands pulling your breasts wantonly from their bra cups.  

“Yeah, so good – fuck!”

“Is he big?” Kylo prompts, snapping his hips so hard suddenly you swear you feel him in your throat. When you don’t answer his hand snakes up to your face to deliver a light, orienting pat to your cheek. Your eyes open, slightly unfocused. “His cock. Is it big?”

“W-what – oh god – what does that have to do with being a lawyer?” you challenge, which gets a breathless laugh out of him.

“Everything, baby.”

And Kylo is big, and he does get you off – two times in his office, once in the court room the next day at your trial, and then twice again back at his office.

After all, he’s big good. 

~*~

Smaller tag list since I don’t usually write Kylo and idk who is down (let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged in the future!) : @paper-n-ashes @foxilayde @maryforyou @maybe-your-left @finn-ray-nal-beads @mariesackler @sacklerscumrag @hopeamarsu @aliveandlonely @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @safarigirlsp @millenialcatlady @can-i-pls-get-a-waffle @mrs-zimmerman @clydesfavoritegirl @direnightshade @historyandfandoms50

***Retagged because some apparently didn’t work - sorry if you got double notified!!!

[capitainelevi]

Drabble Challenge: 8 & 113 (are you allowed to combine them? Hahahaaaa)

Thank you for your ask!! ❤️❤️

Drabble challenge: Followers send a number to your ask and you write a drabble using that sentence/prompt in your piece.

“Forget it. You fucking suck.” and “I prefer blondes.”

Strange Love

Rivetra College AU

Word count: 2127

Slightly NSFW

Petra had been pacing in front of the house for twenty minutes now, ignoring the annoyed sighs coming from her best friend. She was dreading going to the party, having been content with celebrating by herself with a bottle of wine in hand and Netflix playing in the background. But Nifa insisted she couldn`t celebrate finishing their first year of med school in such a sad way. It wasn`t that Petra hated parties, quite the opposite. People always told Petra that she`s a ray of light. But HE was going to be there.

Levi Ackerman. Her rival. Her archnemesis. And unfortunately for Petra, the smartest and most handsome man she had ever seen. Petra couldn`t help herself but roll her eyes at her luck. For as pretty as he was, Levi was equally annoying. Her smug face annoyed Petra, making her want to punch him and kiss him at the same time. His careless attitude and the low effort he put into studying while also being among the best people in her year made Petra dislike him. She was pretty sure he felt the same way about her, as they constantly bickered every time they had the chance to interact. Petra groaned again at the thought of running into Levi, and she was sure she was getting called "pipsqueak" again.

"Petra, as nice as this sidewalk is, it forgot to offer me a drink."

Petra turned towards Nifa, with a spiteful look on her face- "You heard him yourself! He told Hange he would be at the party." She couldn`t believe her best friend was so insensitive as to ignore her suffering.

Nifa grinned, amused by her best friend`s attempt to hide the massive crush she had on the "bad boy" of their year. Levi was quite the player, switching dates almost weekly. Nifa never told Petra, but she noticed their trips to get ice cream and wine in the middle of the night were related to a girl posting Levi on their Instagram story.

"Oh, yes, the mean hottie. Who knows, maybe bad boy came alone tonight"- Nifa said while winking at Petra.

Petra gasped, faking being offended at the thought of being Levi`s date. She would never admit to Nifa that she found the most annoying man she knew extremely attractive- "He`s not even pretty, Nifa!"

Nifa grinned, amused by the act Petra tried to keep up. She got a smirk on her face at her next thought- "Then you won`t mind seeing his arm around a pretty blonde tonight, right?

Petra couldn`t help the annoyed look on her face, and when Nifa burst into laughter at her reaction, she made up her mind. She was going to prove to both Nifa and Levi that he was irrelevant to her. She gathered the courage and made her way to the door- "Are you ready to go, or do you want to ask the sidewalk out for a date?"

When she made her way into the house, the first thing Petra was met by was Levi`s beautiful, stupid, smug face. She cursed under her breath, and Levi got amused at the reaction his mere presence got out of her. He didn`t dislike Petra, no, quite the opposite. She was beautiful and smart, and he genuinely enjoyed being in her presence. But getting her riled up over the smallest things was amusing. He raised his drink towards her, and Petra just rolled her eyes and turned her back towards him.

"The nerve on that guy! I haven`t been here for one minute, and he already ruined my night."

Nifa merely laughed at Petra`s antics and pulled her by the hand- "I think Miss Grumpy over here needs a drink in her hand."

Levi blocked out Hange`s monologue about the latest articles she read, letting Erwin handle his girlfriend, and he let his sight rest on the petite ginger. His eyes hungrily went up and down her alluring figure, and they stopped to admire the way her tight dress hugged her wide hips and her behind. It wasn`t often that he got to admire her this way, as the loose white coat she wore in class didn`t do Petra`s body any justice. Hange obnoxious voice pulled Levi out of his fantasies- "Earth to Shorty, do you copy?"

Levi slapped their hand away from his shoulder, annoyed at the interruption. "Tsk, don`t put your germs on me, Four-Eyes."

Erwin chuckled, amused at the banter between his best friend and his girlfriend, which was proving to become a daily habit- "That`s not a nice way to refer to my girlfriend, Levi."

Levi shrugged and finished his drink in one go- "Alright, Brows, I`m going to get another drink."

Petra was taking a sip of her beer when she felt a warm breath on her ear- "I`m surprised they let a pipsqueak in here. Isn`t it past your bedtime already?"- Levi whispered in her ear, and Petra was sure he had a smirk on his stupid face. Petra closed her eyes, trying to form a sentence, but her mind was fuzzy from the closeness. She tried to pull her sleeve lower to hide the goosebumps forming on her skin.

"Are you sure you`re not a student at the clown academy, Ackerman?"

Levi chuckled, happy Petra was feeling feisty tonight. Teasing her was becoming one of his favorite day-to-day activities. "Good one, Ral." He took her empty beer bottle from her hands and passed another one to her- "Congratulations, by the way."

Petra raised her eyebrow, not used to hearing words of praise out of his mouth. She expected an insult following this, and was surprised when Levi merely took a sip of his beer- "Are you ironic?"

"Relax, Shrimp. I meant it."

Petra could feel her cheeks get red from anger, and she tried to keep herself from shouting- "Okay, Levi, you`re only a few centimeters taller than me. You`re the last person who should call me short."

Levi leaned in again, to whisper in her ear- "And yet I still get a reaction out of you every time."

Petra gulped, intoxicated by his scent invading her nostrils. She could feel herself growing agitated by his proximity, and she needed to get away from him.

"I need to use the restroom."

Petra almost ran up to the bathroom, ignoring the frown on Levi`s face or the look of concern on Nifa`s. She splashed her face with water and closed her eyes. Petra cursed at herself and her inability to stay away from Levi. She couldn`t lie to herself anymore: she liked him. Petra was trying to gather her thoughts when she heard the bathroom door open, and she gasped when the last person she wanted to see at that moment walked into the room. In her nervousness, she forgot to lock the door behind her, and she groaned at her luck. Levi seemed too preoccupied with drinking his beer to check his surroundings, and Petra waited for him to notice her presence.

Levi just stared at her with a curious look on his face, and Petra put her hands on her hips, annoyed at the apology that wasn`t coming out of his mouth.

"What the hell do you think you are doing? I could have been on the toilet!"

Levi shrugged, not showing any kind of remorse for his mistake- "Right. I didn`t see you."

Petra gasped at the nonchalance in his voice and tried to calm herself down. She wasn`t going to let him ruin her night. But when Levi was content with just staring at her, Petra was starting to get impatient. She pointed at the door- "Well, get out?"

Levi nodded, and Petra frowned when she heard the doorknob turn, followed by a series of curses leaving his mouth. Levi hit the door in his attempt to get it open, and Petra plopped down on the toilet seat, not believing the turn her night was taking. Levi hit the door again before turning to Petra- "It`s jammed."

Petra rolled her eyes, feeling on edge from being stuck in a room with the object of her desires- "I got that, thank you." Levi ignored her comment and sat down on the floor, and when he noticed the curious look on Petra`s face, he patted on the spot next to him.

Petra felt her cheeks go red at his invitation to sit so close to him, feeling tempted to give in to her desires and make a move on him. Her fear of being rejected got the better of her, and she tried to remain as rational as possible.

"Can`t you call Hange or Erwin to get us out of here?"

Levi looked through his pockets before cursing under his breath- "I don`t have my phone with me."

Petra groaned, the response being the one she dreaded the most - "Me neither, my bag is with Nifa."

Levi took another sip of his drink and pointed the bottle to her. She shook her head no, trying to resist the urge to put her lips where his had been mere seconds ago.

"I guess you`re stuck with me until someone comes around."

They stayed in silence, with Levi focusing on his drink while Petra analyzed every detail of her surroundings. She did everything she could to keep her eyes away from him, but a few minutes into it, she gave in. Petra let her eyes roam, admiring his neatly cut raven black hair that she wished she could run her fingers through, his grey eyes that she always found a blue tint in, resting her sight on his muscular arms. Despite his short stature, Petra knew he was well built from the nights she spent stalking his social media and thirsting over his beach photos.

Levi pretended not to notice her staring, but when he saw her biting her lip, he couldn`t contain the smirk forming on his face.

"I prefer blondes."

Petra could feel herself growing red, embarrassed at being caught, so the only option she could think of was to try to deny it. The room was starting to get hotter, and she could feel Levi`s eyes on her. She gulped, trying to think of anything to get her out of the situation- "As if I would ever look at you."

Levi`s smirk grew larger, and when he got up from his spot to make his way to her, Petra`s eyes widened. It was hard enough to think of a good excuse without him being close to her.

"Oh, but you do."

Petra gasped, not expecting Levi to be this direct, and she could swear her face had never been redder in her entire life.

"You think I don`t notice the way you look at me?" Levi crouched down on her level, and Petra gulped when his face was so close to hers he could feel his breath on her lips. Petra`s sight drifted to his lips, and Levi didn`t miss her gesture.

"The way you bite your lip when you think I`m not looking at you?"- he told her while he ran his thumb over it. Petra merely stared back at him, too caught up in his spell to formulate any words. At the sight of her flushed cheeks, her parted lips, and dilated pupils, Levi couldn`t help himself anymore and captured her lips in a messy kiss. Petra closed her eyes and rested her hands on his shoulder, pulling him closer to her.

Levi pulled her down on the floor with him and wrapped his arms around her, running one of his hands up and down the small of her back. Petra moaned into the kiss, opening her mouth to let his tongue in, and he wasted no time. Levi devoured her mouth until they were both out of breath, and when they pulled away from one another, Petra opened her eyes to be met by a smug smile painted on his face.

"Forget it. You fucking suck."

Levi chuckled and merely pulled her in for another kiss. When he bit her lip, Petra whimpered at the pleasure he was making her feel, and she eagerly let her tongue explore his mouth. She gasped when Levi pulled her to sit on his lap, and she moaned at the feeling of his erection against her core. She ground herself on him in an attempt to get some relief and let one of her hands roam around his erection. Her eyes widened when her hand stumbled upon a phone in his pocket, and Levi could feel her smile against his lips.

She pulled back to look at him with a smile on her face and kissed his ear lobe before whispering- "There`s nothing wrong with the door, is there?"

[animepopheart]

Wonder Egg Priority, Episode 11: “The Temptation of Death”?

Wonder Egg Priority is a beautiful, uncomfortable, moving and confusing series that starts out engaging all the things we don’t talk about—self-harm, abuse, rape, bullying, gender dysmorphia, and homosexuality, to name a few. Our silence and blindness to these issues have a weight and pressure to them, and WEP shows how this reinforces the isolation and hopelessness of the young women of the “eggs” who turn to suicide for relief. The first ten episodes have been exhilarating and exhausting alike.

And then there is Episode 11. This past week, the series took a bit of a turn, leaning hard into the sci-fi-philosophical, with appearances from Greek gods, a murderous artificial intelligence, and really, really disturbing insect girls, one of whom, despite being a brutal killer, is apparently a vegetarian. Has the show gone off the rails? Has it lost its way in departing from the familiar procedural approach of engaging a differing social or mental health issue with each episode?

Such a critique is perfectly legit, but before you write off the penultimate episode of WEP, just hear me out on why the abstract, meta turn in episode 11 may just be the most valuable thing this series has to offer so far.

Before we begin though, a little recap of what we learned this week. In episode 10, we hear the eggheads, Acca and Ura-Acca, discuss the need for warriors of Eros to battle Thanatos. This is our first hint that things are about to get lore-full and maybe a bit weird. Eros and Thanatos are of course gods in the ancient Greek pantheon, Eros being the god of love, and Thanatos, of non-violent death. Within the first minute or so of episode 11, it’s clear that the eggheads’ hope is now focused on Ai becoming the long-awaited warrior. At this point though, rather than continuing with Ai’s story, the episode shifts into flashback mode and we are finally introduced to the villain, an artificial intelligence created by the eggheads back when they were still human. Their lives gradually come to revolve around her: She is the fulfillment of their obsession to create life, and she is good.

Frill is associated with hydrangeas, which symbolise heartlessness and pride in Japanese flower language. But is it her heartlessness and pride, or that of her makers?

(Atelier Emily has done an outstanding series of posts on the flowers in WEP. Check it out!)

Only, it turns out she doesn’t play so nice when others join the happy family. After killing Acca’s wife, and putting the life of the unborn baby at risk, the AI—who named herself Frill—is unrepentant, all traces of her seeming humanity now revealed to be illusory, a mere affectation. Acca locks her away in a hole in the cellar. Years pass. The baby, Himari, grows up and is a ray of sunshine. But after effectively confessing to her ‘uncle’ (why does anime always do this?), she commits suicide. Ura-Acca discovers that Frill is still very much alive and active from her hole in the cellar, having powered up all the discarded monitors and laid down reams of electrical cables—to what end, we do not yet know. Though Ura-Acca surmises that she has somehow influenced Himari to take her own life. How else would the girl have known about Ura-Acca’s admiration for her mother? Where else would she have learned to make what will forever be to me now that uncannily sinister popping sound?

Here’s where it gets weirder. Unlike the suicides of subsequent egg girls, there is no indication that Himari, Frill’s apparent first victim, struggled with any mental health or other issues that would motivate her to take her own life. Indeed, her ‘uncle’ did not even reject her confession. (Again anime, why you do this thing?) Instead, the eggheads explain Himari’s suicide as being on account of the “temptation of death.” What now?

This is implying that death is somehow attractive, not just to someone facing overwhelming brokenness, trauma or pain, like the egg girls we’ve met so far, but to someone on the verge of stepping from a (relatively) happy childhood into young adulthood, with the promise of potential love to look forward to; someone who has not known suffering, but rather only smiles and cake. (To be fair, it is always possible that she experienced trauma in the womb, or was more deeply affected by her father’s sadness than Ura-Acca’s memories belie.)

That’s my question too, Ai.

The notion of death as somehow attractive or even beautiful is rather alien to Western culture. Certainly, there will always be some who romanticize death, à la star-crossed lovers (Shakespeare, I’m looking at you). But in general, Western culture views death as something ugly and frightening, something to avoid until it is staring you directly in the face, and even then, closing your eyes in denial is a perfectly reasonable response. Death is one of those things we don’t talk about. In my experience, Anglo-American culture is not very good at even mourning death. We lack the grieving rituals and observances of other cultures, and instead seek to confine death to the sealed, sanitized spaces of hospitals, care homes, and funeral parlors. We keep it shrouded tightly in silence. How could there ever be anything like the “temptation of death”? How could we ever consider death to be something desirable? Are the eggheads or CloverWorks simply aestheticising suicide and death here to make it sound deep and philosophical?

No, I don’t think that’s it. Instead, Acca and Ura-Acca are doing what all good researchers do—and indeed what all Christians, as believers in an unseen spiritual reality, are also called to do: They are looking more deeply into phenomena that seem, on the surface, to already be explained. The two idol fans were consumed with their obsession, so when their idol killed herself, they followed suit. The young woman whose identity was wrapped up in her own appearance ended her life to preserve her beauty. The abused gymnast saw no way out, no hope in ever living free from torment. Some explanations may be more sympathetic than others, but they all possess their own internal logic. Contemporary society is full of a vast array of pressures and stresses and each one, taken to breaking point, can result in death. Case closed. This might very well be our conclusion from the first ten episodes.

Only the case isn’t closed. Because there is a question that has pervaded every episode until now, but has remained unspoken: How is it that death could even become an option for the egg girls? Why does reaching a breaking point trigger suicide? What made death seem like a savior to these girls? This is the question that episode 11 tackles, in its own admittedly obscure way. The eggheads are focused on the underlying, deeper reality that unites all the eggs’ stories, as disparate as they are—the common thread, which is the idea that death is a release, a rescue, a beautiful ending, and as a result, it is tempting.

“But we wondered if there could be another push that drove them to suicide,” explains Ura-Acca.

This is a really important question for us to be asking. Because it’s not just these traumatized, vulnerable girls who fall for the seduction of death. We do, too.

Just ponder for a moment: Have you ever anticipated how wonderful it will be when, in heaven, you no longer struggle with that particular temptation? When your temper is no longer so short, when you’re not afraid of being hurt anymore? Or maybe you think about how one day, on those gold-paved streets, you won’t have to worry anymore. All your hard work coping and just keeping it together will finally pay off and you’ll cross that finish line and heave a sigh of relief, knowing that you made it in the end. Have you ever contemplated these kinds of things? I know I have.

But here’s the thing: When I expect my liberation to come only after I die and not right here, right now, then it is not Jesus who is my savior, but death. I am waiting for death to free me from temptation and sin and fear and brokenness, and usher me into eternal life. I make Thanatos my god.

The temptation of death is not limited to the drastic act of suicide, but also permeates all the accusations and fears that inspire us to put off living the fullness of life in Christ here and now. It’s the temptation to believe that it is death that will ultimately solve the more difficult and painful problems in life.

Acca and Ura-Acca seek to create a love that suits their ideals, just to relieve their stress.

The source of this “temptation of death” in Wonder Egg Priority is Frill, the AI. That is, a man-made, artificial version of love—with ai meaning “love” in Japanese. According to Ura-Acca, they made her “just for fun,” as a way of dealing with the stress of their enclosed lives. They designed her to suit their preferences, to make it easier to love her and forget that she was artificial. In this sense, Frill is the fruit of their self-centeredness, her every characteristic designed to satisfy their own ideals of how a daughter and woman should be. And this artificial love born of selfishness brings death into their midst and beyond, spreading it through the horrendous deformities of girlhood that she in turn creates, in imitation of her fathers. (Only perhaps her creations are less deceptive than theirs, wearing their monstrosity plainly on the outside…)

Frill’s creations. We’ve met Dash (right) and Dot (center), but who is that on the left? And is her name Morse??

To counter her destructive influence, Acca and Ura-Acca need true love, a genuine love. They need Ai, a messy, at times very weak human being, but one who nevertheless is willing to fight to live up to her name and maybe, just maybe, become a warrior of Eros.

There is also a deep, underlying force at work in our world, one that connects all despair and the actions born of it. A wide range of social issues, traumas and mental health challenges can and do trigger suicide, but they do not explain it fully. The deeper reality is the existence of an enemy who seeks to manipulate us into believing our true savior can only be death, whether it is right away by our own hand, or more subtly, decades from now by natural causes. But this is a lie, and it is one that we can combat. Just as I’m sure we’ll see in the final episode that Ai is equipped to wage the coming battle in WEP, so too are we armed, here and now, with the power to overwhelm the enemy’s “temptation of death”—we possess already the words of life, given to us by our true savior.

Jesus began his ministry with a public announcement that he had come to heal heart wounds, comfort those in pain, fill broken lives with beauty, and wrap those in despair with reasons to praise like a warm protective blanket, so that they might celebrate with joy once again. He came to bring freedom to prisoners and captives alike, giving a fresh new life to those locked up because of deeds done wrong, and those punished and injured at the hands of others. He came to take the outcasts, the weak, the traumatized and broken and transform them into mighty oaks, clean and strong; into people with the vision and skill and compassion and fortitude to rebuild a broken world (Isaiah 61:1-4, Luke 4:18),

He came to rewrite and restore our experience of life here on earth, and through us, to redeem our communities, cities, nations, and the world. God does not withhold the fullness of life from us until we finally make it to him in heaven. No, instead he moved heaven and earth to get right up close so that he could pour his own life out into us, even going so far as to breathe his very spirit into our hearts and bodies and minds. We don’t need to wait for death’s rescue—our hero has already come. But we do need to remind each other and ourselves of this truth pretty often, and let it work down deep into all the cracks and bruises in our souls until it strengthens all our weak spots.

In Deuteronomy 30:19, God tells the Israelites that he has given them the authority to choose between life and death. But he also tips the balances in their favor, urging them to choose life. In Jesus, he comes to tip the balances even further, making it possible for us to step into eternal life here and now, immediately and forever. So let’s do it. Each day, through each struggle we face. Let’s choose life and not death.

Warrior of love? And is Ai’s himawari (sunflower) related to Himari somehow?

Join me (in spirit) for the final episode on Tuesday to see Ai’s love triumph! (At least, I really really hope that’s what happens!)

[killjoyhistoryarchive]

Mike Milligram: The Lost Killjoy

Edit: On July 21st 2020, a Mike Milligram comic by Gerard Way and Shaun Simon was officially announced. However, I’ll leave this post as it is for future reference.

—

In 2009, while My Chemical Romance fans were eagerly awaiting news on their upcoming album, Gerard Way had another surprise in store: the announcement of a new comic series called “Killjoys.”

Co-written by Shaun Simon and illustrated by Becky Cloonan, Gerard told CBR that the series would “deal with much more mature and controversial themes, such as hate crimes and homophobia, the homogenization of American culture and American life.” Unlike “The Umbrella Academy,” which was set in a fantasy world, “Killjoys” was set in modern-day America.

But what nobody realized was that even after an album, two music videos, and a six-issue comic series, Gerard’s original conception would never see the light of day.

In 2008, Gerard Way and Shaun Simon developed the Killjoys universe in a frenzy of inspiration. Gerard’s original sketch features Mike Milligram on the left–named after Gerard’s brother Mikey Way–with a host of other characters that accompanied Mike on his journey. The comic was announced a year later at San Diego Comic Con, with a release planned in 2010.

With My Chemical Romance wrapping up their fourth album, Gerard and Shaun were ready to start writing. Becky Cloonan drew concept art for Mike Milligram, as well as promotional artwork that they planned to use at the Comic Con announcement. However, the Mike Milligram art was scrapped and replaced with a simple image of the Killjoy spider–a move that could later be seen as prophetic.

In 2009, “Killjoys” was an entirely different concept. There was no Party Poison, no Dr. Death Defying, no Battery City, no girl with special powers. The original comic involved a surreal road trip through America that reunited offbeat characters and confronted harsh realities along the way. In 2013, Shaun Simon offered this description in the introduction to the special hardcover edition of the comics:

The old version of the story focused on Mike Milligram, a late-twenty-something living in a desert trailer park and working a crappy job at a supermarket. Mike’s teenage years were a blur. He couldn’t tell if the things he remembered had actually happened or not. Part of him believed he was part of a gang called the Killjoys who fought fictional things in the real world. The other part of him believed it was all just a dream. Music was the only thing that kept Mike going, so when the music was erased from his Ramones tape, it sent him over the edge. He went out and got his old teenage gang, who were now living normal lives, back together because, yes, it was all real. Other members of his gang included Ani-Max, now a high school history teacher; Code Blue, a rabble-rouser who was a working girl in Vegas; Monster, a new young member they met on the road; and Kyle 100%, who was a B-list actor now. They all had strange powers based on objects. Halloween masks and costume accessories, puffy jackets, toy ray guns. It was a story about a group of old friends getting together and discovering what America really was. Reaching deep inside its pretty facade and pulling out the ugly guts. (It was semiautobiographical. I toured with Gerard and his band for a couple of years before realizing I needed to find my own path.) The gang would have found out that another former gang had now become the largest health care corporation in the country and were hell bent on making the world a safe and clean place by removing all that was dirty, like the Ramones. It would have been a great story, and I’m sure parts will end up in Gerard’s and my’s future work.

Of course, we all know what happened after that announcement. After Gerard took a fateful week-long trip to the desert, MCR decided to scrap “Conventional Weapons” and fueled their energy into writing “Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys.” But even as Gerard delved into this new post-apocalyptic version of the Killjoy universe, the comics remained the same. As late as 2011, Gerard claimed in an interview with Artrocker that the comics hadn’t changed at all:

No, none of the characters, even our characters, are in it. It is a completely separate thing, even almost a separate setting. It shares all the ideals behind the record and the theories and the commentary but it is nothing like the videos you have seen. I think the car is probably the only thing that’s the same!

But as the band took on more responsibilities–filming music videos, promoting the album, going on tour–the comics kept getting pushed back. First the release planned for 2010; then it was pushed back to 2011. And while the era had kicked off without a hitch, MCR eventually hit one of the first of many roadblocks: they didn’t have enough money to film the third video. So as Shaun Simon told CBR, the original story featuring Mike Milligram was scrapped, and replaced with the story of the girl and the Ultra Vs:

[A]fter the record, Gerard had built this whole world around the Killjoys. When it came time for the comic, Gerard called me up and said, “We ran out of money. We wanted to make the third video, but we don’t have the money. So do you want to make the idea for that video into a comic?” We started talking about ideas, and we had so many that it turned into this whole series.

In an interview with Paste (2013), Gerard went into more detail about the process:

The deal is that I had written three videos (“Na Na Na,” “Sing,” and “The Only Hope For Me Is You”), and the third video had never gotten made. By the time we had completed the second video, we just ran out of budget money. At the time, somebody was managing us and not keeping an eye on this stuff. Long story short, there was no budget. So I wrote a video, and of course it ends up being the most expensive one, as the last part would usually be. But we couldn’t make it! Killjoys started its life as a very different comic. It was heavily-rooted in nineties Vertigo post-modernism. There’s a lot of very cool, abstract ideas in it; I wouldn’t even call it a superhero book. That (comic) was a visual and thematic inspiration on what would become the album Danger Days. It was pretty loose, though. This was going to be my interpretation of the story, so there’s way more science fiction involved. And what I need to say to the world needed to be a little more direct, so I boiled it down to something that’s still very smart and challenging, but I thought was definitely easier to understand through song or visual. Then (Killjoys artist) Becky Cloonan drew a 7-inch for “The Only Hope For Me Is You,” which was going to be the last video single. I realized I was out of budget, so I said ‘just make this the girl from the first and second video at 15. And have her shave her head or chop her hair off like in The Legend of Billie Jean, because that’s how the video was supposed to start.’ So (Cloonan) sends this drawing over and I’m on tour with Blink 182 in a hotel on an off day. I get this drawing and I’m so immediately blown away by it. I call Shaun, my co-writer and co-creator, and I say ‘open your email, I’m going to send you something.’ I ask him ‘how does this image make you feel?’ We talked for two hours. By the end of the conversation we both realized that that image was the comic, and the third video was basically the comic. So we figured how we were going to make this interesting and exciting for six issues and complete the story. And that was the final direction. It was pretty obvious to us.

In a way, Mike Milligram’s spirit lived on, as fans noticed the similarities between Mike Milligram and Party Poison. But it’s inaccurate to say that Mike Milligram became Party Poison, though “Party Poison’s real name is Mike Milligram” became a persistent rumor in the fandom. Mike’s story was not Poison’s; he wasn’t a post-apocalyptic rebel, but a teenager searching for his identity in modern America.

Will Mike Milligram’s story ever be told? At this point, it’s not likely. But his tale offers a glimpse into the creative minds of Gerard Way and Shaun Simon, and makes us ponder the fact that with a few changes–the comics being released earlier, for instance, or MCR having the money to fund the third video–the comics could have been entirely different.

[scandeniall]

Let’s Make a Song

Pairing: rnbsinger!atsumu x rnbsinger!reader

Summary/warnings: ur long term on again off again bf Atsumu wants to do your first song together. Thing is you’re currently off/honestly just cursing. 1 tiny implied nsfw sentence. Literally 1

the 2nd piece in rnb!haikyuu bc why tf not. Other

a/n: The song that’s written is change by Arin Ray & Kehlani (that’s also the cover art mentioned later)

Wc: 2.8K

When your manager relayed the invitation to collaborate with Atsumu you were rather surprised. He didn’t do many new collaborations, reserving those for people he’d worked with in the past. Then there was the fact that he hadn’t asked you personally. The two of you were more than acquainted and he definitely had your phone number. But then again it’d been months since you’d last had any contact.

The two of you had been on and off again for the larger part of your careers, meeting in high school and building a friendship for years. A year after graduation you’d decided to make the switch from friendship to relationship. And it worked. The two of you both wanted to pursue music and understood one another. You were one another’s number one fan, muse, and confidant as you grew in popularity.

He’d gotten signed before you but neither of you thought it would change things. Then he started being around less and less getting busy recording his first studio album while you continued to work independently. He’d still come back to you at the end of the night. However that was short lived thus bringing about the first of many splits over the years. It was mutual—things were too busy to give the love someone deserved.

During that first split you’d ended up getting signed yourself. In only a few months you were immediately thrusted into the same professional world as Atsumu and that brought the two of you back together. He’d seen the announcement post on social media and paraded over to yours that night rambling about the betrayal of you not telling him you were in talks with a label. He’d bought over dinner and the two of you got back to talking consistently and rekindled in mere weeks.

That had been at 19. Now at 23 the two of you were still a roller coaster. You’d broken up for a number of reasons over the years. Busy schedules, his ego, your attitude, internet rumors mixed with poor communication, poor timing, you name it. Yet the two of you always found your way back like magnets.

You weren’t quite sure what you expected when you agreed to doing a song with Atsumu, who you were currently off with. In all your years, the two of you had never done a song together. Sure you’d fucked around with writing a few times but neither of you ever used any of those songs. You two had different styles, him focusing more on heavy bass, and reminiscent on the SoundCloud style. Meanwhile you were more soulful and melodic.

You hadn’t even so much as texted atsumu in like three months So of course it was a surprise when you made your way to his for a writing session to see the lyrics he’d already come up with. Lyrics that just by the way he read them to you, were clearly about you.

you’ve got me all in my feelings And I know you get tired of running You stole my heart and I mean it When we break up, can’t wait to make up

“That’s all I got so far,” he sighed leaning back on the couch next to you. “What do ya think”

“It’s different from your usual shit. It’s softer.” You ignore the scoff he sends you and sit back on the couch before he starts complaining. “But I like it. What was the inspiration.” You’re not even sure why you asked. Maybe it was the desire to have confirmation that you really have been the one all these years. There was still a chance it could’ve been someone else

“And you say yer the smart one between us,” is all he says before grabbing his laptop off the coffee table. “I got this beat too. Suna sent it over this morning and I think I wanna use it.” You choose to ignore his confirmation as you begin to get comfortable against the couch. He plays the instrumental and it only further surprises you from just how different it was from his usual. It was undoubtedly more your style and you're almost offended that your friend hadn’t sent you the beat instead. “Ya like it?”

“Could you play it back.” You begin to hum along a few nonsensical words to yourself and you’re aware of Atsumu’s eyes on you. He watches as you hit the voice record on your phone, already aware that you do that in case you say something that you like. You try to think back to what he started with and He moves his notebook closer to you so you can get a better view of the words messily scribbled.

You can’t keep coming and going In and out of my life please make up your fucking mind I give you time and you kill it

Immediately after that he pauses much to your annoyance and ignores your complaint. “I like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Sounds like yer replying back. Like a conversation,” he nods. “Is that really how ya feel about me?” You don’t miss the way he tries to subtly put his arm around the back of the couch and subsequently you. And your laugh.

“God you’re annoying Atsumu.” You end up caving, moving the laptop back to the table in front of you and moving under his waiting arm. You can’t even deny the way you like it either, comforted by the way his hand rubs up and down your arm. “Is that how you feel about us,” you challenge referring to the lyrics he’d come up with

“Course. I look forward to making up ya know.” He chuckles and the look of faux disgust you send him before continuing. “But I mean it. Ya got my heart and have for years.” The words are paired with a kiss to your temple.

You two sit in silence for a few moments before you break it with a sigh. “I’m tired of this shit Tsumu. It’s been years of us and this and the older I get, the more draining it is. I wonder all the time if I should stay or just leave for good.” It’s the first time you’ve ever admitted it to anyone other than yourself, and it’s to the person that has the power to break your heart at any given moment. The only small comfort is that you know it’s mutual and that you hold his as well.

“If you’re tired then write it out (Y/N). It’s part of the reason I asked ya to do a song.” He nudges you to sit up and catches your eye. “I think about ya way too fucking much and I’ve thought about if shit between us was worth it too.” He looks like he’s in through for a moment before quickly grabbing his notebook scribbling for a minute before showing you.

thinking of you is all I do honestly I might go insane cause when we break up can’t wait to make up Some things will never change

He’s playing the instrumental before you can say anything waiting until a certain part and signaling for you to just wait. Then his voice softly fills your ears as he goes into the words and points at you to follow up with what you’d sung before. As you near the end you gesture for him not to stop it yet

It’s very personal to me That you give it everything Should I stay? Should I go? Should I leave? I don't know.

After that your mind blanks and you reach over to pause the track. It felt good. Really good. “I think I have my verse,” you exclaim. “And what if we repeat your part. Maybe starting from thinking of you” you half mumble the words already writing away at your own notebook. You don’t even notice the look Atsumus giving you until you look back up minutes later after humming along and trying to string the words together. “What”

“It’s nothin. Just love watching ya write that’s all.” You end up shooting him a soft smile before focusing back on the words in front of you. “Actually, this beat is more you than me so did ya wanna do the bridge”

That causes you to look up in confusion. “Are you sure? It’s your song. It’d be weird for me to have a bigger part?” Atsumu is brushing off the question of you asking him to be serious. You didn’t want to step on any toes or offend anyone.

“If it’s that big a deal to ya we can go back n forth or somthin’.” His eyes question yours for a moment before smiling in victory at your agreeing. “Besides, Suna was gonna send it to ya anyways. Paid him to let me have it instead. Didn’t take much just-Ow!” HES quickly cut off by your fist coming into contact with his shoulder. “Why’d ya-“

“You’re an ass, did you know that,” you roll your eyes in response. No wonder the beat was so different from his usual. Because the track wasn’t meant for him. You’d have to bitch at Suna later for giving the track to Atsumu of all people. And for who knows what kind of lowball offer it was. “Wanna tell me why you did that. Or I can leave. Your choice” you’re closing your notebook at this point shifting away from him a bit.

“I missed ya.” It’s the only thing he says before your scoffing and getting off the couch and starting to gather your things.  “I’m serious (Y/N).” The feeling of his hand grabbing at yours causes you to stop. “I kept thinking about us and couldn’t Bring myself to text. I got Suna to give me the track cause I wanted to see ya and talk.”

“Why couldn’t you just text?”

“I can say it better in a song. And I know you can too. Now c’mon don’t go alright?” You allow him to tug you back down onto the couch with a sigh. He wasn’t necessarily wrong. You’d wanted to settle things between you both once and for all for a while now. He just provided the opportunity. You both needed to know if you were just wasting time.

“Listen. If ya wanna talk about it outside of the song let’s go for a drive then.”

“First you steal my beat to get me to come over, now you wanna trap me in a car with you?” Atsumu only looks at you unbothered before you sigh. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”

“If it’s that bad, you know how to tuck and roll. I might slow down enough.” —-

“Atsumu what are we doing,”

He doesn’t even spare you a glance before responding. “Driving.” When you don’t reply he lets out a sigh before giving a real answer. “Do you still love me?”

“Yes,” it’s like you answer before your brain even ponders the question. “Do you still love me?”

“Wouldn’t be here right now if I didn’t.” His words are just as confident. He shoots you a quick glance before continuing. “I wanna get back together. For good this time. Heard about yer date with that Semi guy.”

Your breath hitches for a moment. While you’re not surprised that he knew about the date last month, you didn’t think he’d mention it. You’d woken up the morning after notifications crazy. Pictures of the two of you filled them and many of the tweets had actually tagged Atsumu as well.

“We weren’t together so ya don’t have to go explaining anything,” he stops you from your attempt at an apology. “Of course i'm not sure what ya saw in that guy. But it made me realize that yer the one I want. Always been the one.” He shrugs before the hand closest to you comes to rest on your thigh. “And I’ve always been the one for you too right?”

“Are you serious about wanting to make us work this time?” His hand leaves your leg for the wheel again and you watch in confusion as he makes a few sudden turns. He mutters something about giving him a few minutes before pulling into a random parking lot. He shuts the car off before unbuckling so he can turn his entire body to face you. “What are you doing Atsumu?”

“Move in with me.” You’re looking at him like he’s grown another head before he continues. “My lease with Samu is almost up and he’s been wanting to move closer to his shop and I wanna be closer to a studio. I’m serious about us and I just think-“

“Would you actually help with boxes or just sit on your ass and watch?”

The questions cause him to frown a bit in thought and you can’t help but laugh as he actually interprets the words and what they really mean. You could tell the exact moment he gets it and a lazy smirk settles on his face instead. “No promises babe. I kinda like watching ya walk away.”

The way his face eased closer to yours had you following his lead until your lips met. You can feel yourself smiling as one of his hands comes to cup your jaw. The kiss is sweet, lips moving slowly against yours in a reunion of sorts. “Stay over tonight we can work on the song again tomorrow.” He pulls away just enough to insist, resting his forehead against yours.

“Already told Samu so he’s bringing enough dinner home. And I got a new toothbrush in the bathroom.”You lean to peck his lips before sitting back in the seat. “You knew this would happen didn’t you.” Despite the accusation you find yourself agreeing with no hesitation.

“I hoped. It’s a difference babe. If not, more food for me” his hand quickly grabs yours to place a kiss on your own before settling back on the wheel. “Let’s get back I’m starvin”

—— “Are yer eyes closed? Are you sure? Don’t peek-“

“Hurry up Atsumu,” you groan as you allow him to lead you to god knows where. The song you’d guys finished a few weeks ago was set to release in a few hours and Atsumu refused to let you see the song cover. It was a surprise, or so he told you every time you tried to ask. Even in his new song tease on twitter he just posted blank images. New song with a surprise guest coming soon ;)

He’d had you meet him at his label and jumped on you the second you stepped into the building blindfold in hand and stupid grin on his face. “Don’t act like this is a new thing for ya,” he’d whisper in your ear as he tied the blindfold and laughed when you attempted to hit at him and miss.

“Stop complaining before I make you wait until the songs officially out. We’re almost there” you feel his hand leave yours before it’s placed on your back. You can hear a door open before he instructs you in. “Small step up.” With your restricted sight your hearing has seemed to increase tenfold. You can hear the sound of blinds opening and him moving around. “One second babe.”

After a few more moments and complaints for him to hurry up a pair of arms wrap around your waist. Leaning into the warmth you feel his lips kiss up your neck before stopping. “You can look now.”

It takes a moment for your eyes to spot it. First your eyes dart around the room to see nothing out of the ordinary save for a table with a champagne bottle. Then one of his arms points toward the window and you freeze in shock. “Atsumu is this?” You turn to look at him expectedly as he nods and pushes you near it. From the window of the building you see the cover art plastered on a billboard.

“Where did you find that?”

Atsumu’s voice grows closer as he stops next to you. “Our mom came down a while ago. Had some shit to deliver and brought some scrapbooks. It was in there.” You nod in understanding before he continues. “Ya like it?”

The picture was one from years ago. He’d just gotten signed and that weekend you and a few friends went on a road trip to celebrate. That particular picture had been taken on a Polaroid as you two were outside supposedly star gazing. On the mountain of blankets it was clear that his attention was more on you than the sky. It was one of your favorite pictures for a while then eventually you had broken up (for the first time) and it was long forgotten.

“Love it. Brings back memories you know?” You don’t even notice he’d gone to pour you a glass before he's dangling off in front of your face.

“Here’s to our first song together babe”

bonus things

yall actually filmed a music vid (this isnt included bc i am only now finding out theres a mv despite having this song in my music for a year)

he tweets the song link with “decided to stay”

atsumu ends up buying suna a ps5 game he wanted as a thank you (not w/o complaining though)

ppl on the internet arent even surprised that yall are back together (theyre tired too tf)

atsumu ends up putting that polaroid in his clear phone case <3

this is yall 6th time getting back together (yall keep trying HUH lmfao. but yall never actually ended on bad terms and always stayed friend)

you end tweeting a joke “ok last time yall i promise LMFAO”

[hopingforromanoff]

Not As Beautiful As You {N. Romanoff}

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader 

Warnings: uhhh I don’t think any. There’s one scene that really seems like it gonna turn into smut but nothing actually happens, I promise😂

Requests are open, so feel free to send in requests and I will do my best to get them posted ASAP. i’m gonna keep them open for now but please be patient with the length of time it takes to finish them. 

A/N: I KNOW I said that I was gonna post soon and then I disappeared again, but my dog had her puppies so it’s been a bit crazy over here. Anyway, this is for @versdan​ 800 follower writing challenge! Congrats, you deserve every single one of them, love you!💗

Hope you enjoy!

My Masterlist

_______________________________________

The sound of your laughter joined the crackling of the fire, and crickets chirping in the nearby trees and tall grass. Bucky cheered as his throwing knife hit dead center on the makeshift target on the rotted tree stump. You narrowed your eyes at him and marched the short distance to retrieve your knife from where it landed just off the center.     

“Aww Y/N, don’t get all upset just because i'm better at this than you” Bucky’s playful banter caused you to turn back around to face him. 

“Listen Barnes, just because you’re a highly trained assassin doesn't mean you can rub it in people’s faces”  you jokingly swung your arm back as if you were going to throw your knife at Bucky this time instead of the target.  

“Keep goofing off and you’ll seriously get hurt” Natasha glanced up from her book, closing it and setting it gently next to her on the red and black checkered blanket that she had placed down to protect herself from the damp grass. 

“Sorry Nat, he was being mean” you giggled lightly and then slowly made your way around the campfire to your spot next to her like a kicked puppy. It was beginning to get dark so you were gonna stop messing around soon anyway.

“It's fine lyubov moya , I just don’t want you to get hurt, this is supposed to be team-bonding camping or whatever Steve called it, not watching my girlfriend be an idiot and getting hurt” Natasha grabbed your hands as soon as you were within reach, pulling you down onto her crossed legs. 

Your hand found Natasha’s cheek and you pulled her into a soft kiss as the last rays of the sun began to fall behind the trees and the first specs of twilight fell upon the campsite. 

Soon the bright moon and flickering of the fire were the things lighting the campsite. Natasha tightened a blanket around the two of you as the damp evening air chilled your skin. A light breeze ran through the campsite, causing the flames to flicker. The blanket did little to stop the chill that ran through you. 

“Are you cold, baby?” Natasha tightened her arms around you even tighter as you turned into her to bury your face into her neck, seeking warmth. Natasha let out a soft laugh as your nose brushed the side of her neck when you shook your head yes.   

“Did that tickle?” You pulled away just long enough to shoot her a mischievous smile. Natasha knew that meant trouble and she raised her eyebrow to scold you, but it only lasted for a few seconds before she was pulled into a conversion with Steve and Wanda about a recent mission. 

You settled for a moment allowing Natasha to get engulfed in the conversion. Once Natasha was distracted, you let your bottom lip brush over her collarbone, a shiver ran through Natasha when you let your lips pause at her neck, leaving a few kisses there. 

“Y/n, stop” Natasha whispered sternly under her breath as her hand squeezed your hip. 

You ignored her, continuing to pepper kisses up and down the side of her neck. Your hand fell to Natasha’s waist and you began to fiddle with the waistband of her pants as you felt her begin to crumble underneath you. She took a strained deep breath as she tried to maintain her composure as most of the team had now gathered around the fire and joined in the conversion. You almost felt bad for torturing her like this, and then you remembered the similar stunt she pulled during team movie night a few weeks ago. Natasha allowed you to continue your assault for a few more minutes before she abruptly stood, nearly causing you to fall to the floor in the process. 

Natasha made an excuse for her quick exit as she began to march the short distance to your tent, dragging you with her. Natasha groaned when Steve reminded her that they needed help with something. 

“Bed. Now.” Natasha growled as she pulled you tight against her hips. You softly whimpered in response to Natasha’s tone before scurrying into the tent.  

You managed to play a few rounds of a game on your phone before you heard the zipper on the tent and Natasha appeared. You silently watched her for a few moments while she gathered her things and placed them on her side of the air mattress. Natasha sat down on the bed, and scooted closer to you. 

 “You know…..two can play at this game, kitten” Natasha’s hand fell to your bare thigh and she began to stoke up and down it. She finally locked eyes with you for the first time since she came in. Her hand tightened around the back of your knee as she used it to pull you closer to her. A satisfied smile appeared on her face at the surprised squeak that fell from your lips. 

As soon as you were what Natasha deemed closer enough she placed a few gentle kisses on your thigh before crawling up the bed to lie next to you. Her lips gently brushed yours, almost as if she was gonna have mercy on you but you knew her better than that. She placed a gentle kiss there before abandoning your lips entirely, opting for the same method of torture you had used earlier in the night. 

Her breath hit your cheek as she moved painstakingly slowly, her lips merely brushing against your skin but nonetheless the light touches still sent shivers through your nerves. Once she reached your collarbone, she paused for a moment,  leaving a few stray kisses there before she began to work her way back up your neck. She began to lightly suck on the skin once she reached just under your ear. A soft moan fell from your lips as you threaded your fingers through her hair and pulled lightly. 

Natasha smiled against your skin as her hand bunched around the bottom of the fabric of your shirt, her lips only leaving her body for a brief moment as she pulled it over your head and discarding it at the bottom of the bed. With more skin now exposed, Natasha began to kiss down your body. 

Natasha made her way slowly, paying special attention to where your breasts were falling out of your navy bra. You moaned softly when she reached the waistline of your pants, she left a line of kisses along there. Her hands found your hips and slowly your sleep shorts joined your shirt at the end of the bed.  Your breath caught in your throat and you moaned out her name when she slowly began to kiss down your thigh. Once she reached your inner thigh, you began to squirm under her. 

“Relax, baby” Nat purred, pushing your hips back down onto the bed. You whined in frustration once you realized that you weren't going to get what you wanted anytime soon.  

“Kitten, you’ve gotta be patient-” Natasha was not able to finish her sentence before she was interrupted. 

“You guys do know that you’re in a tent, right? And that we can hear everything?” Sam's voice came from outside the tent.  

“Then don’t listen” Natasha continued to softly bite your inner thigh, but one look at your bright red cheeks told her that you were far too embarrassed to enjoy the rest of the evening. 

-------------------

“Y/N, wake up” Natasha's warm hand falls to your shoulder as she tries to gently arouse from your nightmare. No matter how peaceful Nat tried to make it, the shock of being woken up caused the blanket to fall into your lap as you shot up in bed. 

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay, kitten, I'm here, it was just a nightmare” Natasha grabbed your hands to ground you. 

“Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up” you mumbled softly trying to shake the dream out of your head. 

“Don't be sorry, it's okay, I promise. Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?” Natasha’s voice was laced with concern.  

Suddenly feeling claustrophobic, you began to rapidly search for a way to escape the confined area of the tent. Natasha dropped one of your hands to reach up and brushed your hair out of your face. Her hand paused behind your ear before letting it settle on your cheek, her thumb lightly stroking your skin in an attempt to calm you.    

“Y/N, look at me. We don’t have to talk about” Natasha paused as an idea came to her mind. “C’mon, I wanna try something”

Natasha guided you out into the cool night air, a vast difference from the scorching summer heat that would be felt once the sun arose high in the sky. 

The leaf covered path opened up to the mountainside, you could barely make out the outline of the path below you, but you remembered enough from your hike up to the campsite earlier that day.  Natasha grabbed your hand and pulled you away from the ledge. Once you were close to her, she turned you around to look over the edge once again, her hips pressed against yours

“Look” Natasha wrapped her arms around you and pointed out into the vast ocean of black that had millions of stars dancing in it. The shadows of the tall trees faded into the background. 

Natasha began to point out some constellations, keep her arms tightly around you trying to fend off the cold air, but mostly because she just liked it when you were close to her. In the distance you could hear the rustling of the trees as the wind picked up for a second. 

 “How did you find this place” you intertwined your hands with hers as they sat around your waist. 

“I found it when I was collecting firewood with Steve when we first got here, I wanted to show it to you” Natasha sounded distracted but you weren’t paying too much attention, too focused on the stars that shimmered like freshly fallen snowflakes in the night sky.  

“Natasha...its beautiful” 

“Not as beautiful as you” you broke your gaze from the stars for a moment and saw that Natasha was no longer looking at the sky but you instead, her eyelashes brushed against your cheek. And she kissed you, soft and gently. It was all silent, the best kind of silence though. The kind of silence where words weren’t needed, where you could just enjoy each other.

________________________________________

Permanent Taglist: @sebbbystaaan​ @starspangledseb   @sirinaheart ​@mushyjellybeans​ @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @natasha-danvers @stop-drop-and-drumroll @imma-new-soul

[musette22]

So frat boy Chris, having sex with a Romanian prince on his Steve Rogers’ Camaro

Okay so nonnie, you’re kind of a mind reader. When you sent this in yesterday I was literally in the middle of writing this. I got a prompt just like this from another lovely anon a while ago and only just got around to writing it, so yeah, your timing is impeccable! I hope you enjoy this little car sex fic 😘

Baby, you can drive my car

Pairing: Chris Evans x Sebastian Stan (Evanstan)

Word count: 3k

Rating: Explicit, so 18+ only please!

Read on AO3

Gif credit to @stevenrogered

***

“Chris?”

Sebastian’s voice emerges, a little muffled, from where his face is smushed in between Chris’s pectorals.

Chris hums in reply, not taking his eyes off the book he’s reading. “What’s up, baby?”

“I’m bored.”

Huffing out a laugh, Chris tears his gaze away from the page to peer down at Sebastian. “You could grab a book too, you know. What happened to that weird Gothic novel you were reading earlier? The Finnish one?”

Sebastian lifts his head to pout at him, pink bottom lip pushed out enticingly. “We’ve been reading all morning. I wanna go do something.”

“Like what?” Chris leans in to kiss the top of Sebastian’s head.

“Like…” Sebastian’s scrunches up his nose in thought. “Oh, let’s go for a drive?”

“Where to?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Sebastian shrugs, leaning his chin on Chris’s sternum. “Just don’t want to sit inside on a day like this.”

“Okay,” Chris agrees, stroking Sebastian’s hair back off his forehead. “We could take the Lexus and drive up to the mountains?”

“Yeah. Or, hey, can we take the Camaro?”

Chris blinks. “Really?”

“You’ve barely taken her out since you got her.” Sebastian playfully narrows his eyes. “Wouldn’t want your sugar daddy to think you didn’t appreciate his present, right?” 

Chris rolls his eyes at Sebastian’s gentle ribbing. “Okay, yeah. You’re right, it’s time I took her for a spin.”

He sits up, pushing Sebastian off of him in the process, who just rolls onto his side on the couch. He holds out a hand for Sebastian to grab onto, groaning as he pulls him up to his feet.

“Go put on some pants, I’ll go check the oil. Rendezvous in the garage in ten.”

Sebastian was right – it’s a lovely day. The sun is out and it’s unseasonably warm, so Chris shrugs off his cardigan twenty minutes in, leaving him in a short-sleeved, white t-shirt. He has his sunglasses on and his ball cap backwards on his head, the window rolled down, and his baby next to him in the passenger seat. So yeah, he has nothing to complain about.

Sebastian, wearing baggy basketball shorts, a black t-shirt and some Ray Bans, is loudly singing along to Journey. It’s a little off-key, but Chris thinks it’s all the more endearing for it. They drive up into the mountains for a little over an hour – not counting one stop at a gas station – before Sebastian tells him to pull over.

“We just had a pee break,” Chris protests mildly, “literally like fifteen minutes ago. Took ages, too.”  

Instead of explaining, Sebastian laughs. “Just pull over, dork.”

Chris sighs, already doing as he’s told. He came to terms with the fact that he’s whipped a long time ago. “What is it?” he asks once he’s shut off the engine, turning towards Sebastian.

Sebastian just looks at him silently for a moment, then says, “Get out of the car.”

“What? Why?”

“I need you to switch places with me.”

“Why?” Chris repeats, puzzled. “If you wanna drive for a bit, you can just ask me that, you know.”

Sebastian just flashes him a grin and opens the passenger door, climbing out of the car. Chris shrugs, following suit and walking over to the other side.

“Get in,” Sebastian orders, though he’s making no move to take place behind the wheel.

Still confused, Chris eases himself into the passenger seat and looks up at Sebastian expectantly. “Now what?”

“Now,” Sebastian says, stepping closer, “I do this.”

Next thing Chris knows, he has a lap full of Sebastian. “What are you- oh.”

“Yes, oh,” Sebastian mimics, taking off his sunglasses and tossing them carelessly onto the unoccupied driver’s seat. His grey-blue eyes sparkle mischievously and Chris’s heartbeat speeds up; a Pavlovian response.

“Here?” he asks incredulously.

“Uh huh.” Sebastian removes Chris’s sunglasses too and leans in, lips only half an inch from his own when he asks, “That okay with you?”

“What if someone sees?”

“Chris. This is literally the most remote road I could find on the map and we’re half hidden by those trees anyway. We’re fine.”

“Oh, I see,” Chris drawls, pressing his lips to Sebastian’s briefly because they’re right there. “So you planned this, huh, you little minx.”

“Maybe,” Sebastian says, tilting his head coquettishly. He reaches back behind him to open the glove compartment, rummaging around for a moment before producing a bottle of lube that he must’ve put there while Chris was busy checking the tire pressure. “And I may or may not be going commando under these shorts.”

Chris groans, closing his eyes as he lets his head thunk back against the headrest. “Sebastian, baby… One of these days you’re gonna kill me, I swear to god.”

Sebastian takes off Chris’s cap and affectionately ruffles his hair. “Only if you haven’t killed me first. Y’know, with your dick.” Sebastian grins goofily at his own, horrendously bad joke and Chris’s heart flip flops in his chest with all kinds of emotions that are far too sappy for the situation they’re in.

“Please do us both a favor and shut up, sweetheart,” Chris says, knowing that Sebastian will be able to see right through the snark, to the love underneath.

Sebastian raises an eyebrow, licking his lips. “Make me.”

“Hmmm, love a challenge.”

Winding one arm around Sebastian’s waist and grabbing his neck with the other, Chris pulls Sebastian in for a hard, filthy kiss. He doesn’t waste any time slipping him some tongue, tracing the tip of it along Sebastian’s perfectly straight, Hollywood teeth, which Chris loved even back when they were still endearingly crooked.

Sebastian moans, catching Chris’s bottom lip between his teeth and sucking on it, the way he knows makes Chris’s knees weak. Chris retaliates by kneading Sebastian’s pert little ass, pulling him closer, pleased to find that Sebastian is already half hard. That makes two of them, then.

“Wait,” Sebastian says after a minute or two of making out like a couple of horny teenagers. “Tilt back your seat.”

“Ooh, smart. Knew you were more than just a pretty face.” Chris slides back the seat as far as it’ll go, but even then there’s not a lot of space for them to move. “You’re gonna have to ride me, though. I can’t move much in this position.”

Sebastian smiles wolfishly. “Not a problem. Have you seen these thighs?” He squeezes Chris’s waist with said thighs to emphasize his point, and Chris let out a deep groan, hips already jerking upwards.

“Uh huh,” he says, through gritted teeth. “I’ve seen ‘em alright. They’re good thighs. Real nice.”

Despite being all bold and flirty up until this point, the simple compliment is enough to make Sebastian blush, his cheeks tinged with pink.

Jesus, he’s sweet. Chris has no choice but to kiss him again. While he’s at it, he slides his right hand into the back of Sebastian’s shorts, squeezing the firm flesh and dipping his fingers between his cheeks. When he rubs a fingertip over Sebastian’s entrance, he looks up in surprise.

“Did you –”

“In the bathroom,” Sebastian smirks.

“That’s why it took so long.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “Are you gonna complain about that some more or are you gonna fuck me?”

The words send a jolt of lust through Chris, his mind going blank as his cock eagerly fills up that final bit inside his jeans. “You want me to fuck you, baby?” he rumbles, tightening his grip on Sebastian’s ass.

Sebastian nods, heavy-lidded eyes trained on Chris’s. “Yeah, I want you to fuck me. Been wanting to feel you inside me all day, but you were too busy reading.”

Chris snorts. “I guess I’d better make up for it now, then.”

“Guess you’d better,” Sebastian nods, leaning down to kiss him again while starting to open Chris’s fly.

Chris lifts up his hips to help Sebastian shimmy down his jeans and boxers just far enough to take out his cock. The way Sebastian licks his lips at the sight tells him that he’s dying to suck him off – that pretty mouth is always ready – but that will have to wait until some other time.

“Wish I could get on my knees for you, but there’s no room in this fucking car,” Sebastian laments, echoing Chris’s thoughts.

“It was your idea to take the Camaro.”

Sebastian narrows his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Less talking, more fucking, thanks.” He wraps his hand around Chris’s length, tightening his grip and stroking him slowly, making Chris’s breath stutter in his throat.

“Oh, that’s it, baby,” he breathes. “God, that feels good.”

“Yeah?” Sebastian tips Chris head back with his free hand and places small, biting kisses to his throat, just below the line of his beard. “That’s all I want, Chris, to make you feel good.”

For that alone, Chris has to kiss him again. He tugs Sebastian’s head up by his hair.

“Unghh,” Sebastian says, delightfully responsive as always when Chris pulls on his hair a bit. Chris dives in and swallows his moans, jerking his hips into the tight circle of Sebastian’s fist.

“Chris, get in me,” Sebastian mutters impatiently.

“Yeah, okay,” Chris pants. “You need some fingers first?”

“No.” Sebastian’s pupils are blown, his mouth slick and red. “Yeah. I don’t know.”

“That’s a yes, then.” Chris replies, unwilling to take any risks with something like this. Sebastian whines in response, but Chris ignores him and grabs the lube, quickly coating his fingers in the stuff before shoving his hand down the back of Sebastian’s shorts again. Carefully, he pushes his forefinger inside, sliding in a second one as soon as he’s satisfied that Sebastian can take it.

“More,” Sebastian whispers already, pressing his forehead to Chris’s. Chris obliges, adding a third finger slowly before spreading them a little, opening Sebastian up bit by bit. He can’t really thrust much in this position, can’t really hit the spot, but he’ll make sure to make up for that later.

“You wanna take these off?” Chris asks when he thinks Sebastian is prepped enough, pulling the waistband of the basketball shorts.

Sebastian shakes his head quickly, all worked up and flushed now. “Nuh uh, just – pull ‘em aside.” He lifts his hips a little, scrunching up the fabric and pulling it aside, creating a wide gap.

“Huh,” Chris says, impressed, “you really did think about this.”

“Yup.” Sebastian peckshim on the lips quickly and adds, “Now shut up and put your dick in me.”

“Yes, sir.”

Sebastian pushes himself up on his knees, hovering over Chris, while Chris holds his dick steady with his right hand and guides it to Sebastian’s opening. Both of them hold their breath as Chris presses against the slight resistance, pushing past Sebastian’s rim until he can slowly, steadily slide inside. It’s so warm in here, so tight and hot and perfect, and Chris has been with many people in his life, but none of them ever felt as good as his baby does.

“Oh, god,” Sebastian moans, “oh fuck, that feels – you feel so…”

“Feels good?” Chris manages to ask, making a concerted effort to drag his foggy mind back into consciousness so he can check if Sebastian’s doing okay.

“So good. So big, holy shit.” Sebastian shudders as he sinks down the final bit, settling in Chris’s lap with Chris now fully seated inside of him. “Why do I never get used to how you feel?” he marvels, burying his face in Chris’s neck. Chris runs his hands up and down Sebastian’s back, soothing him while he gets used to the feeling.

“Too much?”

“Fuck, no. Never toomuch of you, baby.”

For a moment, Chris has to close his eyes to stem the swell of emotions rising up inside his chest. He tightens his arms around Sebastian and squeezes, wishing not for the first time that they could just meld into one.

“Love you so much, baby,” he murmurs into Sebastian’s hair, pressing a kiss there for good measure.

“Love you, too,” Sebastian says quietly, before drawing in a deep breath. He lifts his head and locks his gaze with Chris’s, and for a long moment Chris gets lost in the depths of those steel-blue eyes.

Then, without warning, Sebastian suddenly lifts himself up a couple of inches before pushing back down, causing Chris’s eyes to roll back inside his skull at the sudden stab of sensation.

“Ooohh my fucking god,” Chris groans, hands sliding down Sebastian’s back, grabbing his ass. “Do that again.”

“Do this again?” Sebastian asks, lifting off and sinking down on Chris’s cock again, taking him all the way to the root. Chris growls out something obscene into Sebastian’s collarbone when Sebastian stays seated for a moment and rolls his hip, grinding himself down on Chris’s dick.

“Jesus, you’re so deep.” Sebastian’s eyes are wide, his voice high and breathy, almost like a whine.

“Think I could get deeper?” Chris asks, when Sebastian comes up for air.

Sebastian shrugs, but the way he’s trembling belies the casual gesture. “Worth a try, huh?”

Sebastian starts to ride him then, rising up and sinking down again, taking him to the hilt over and over. They don’t talk for a little while, at least not beyond some bitten off curses and moans, too focused on the way they’re making each other feel to speak. Sebastian’s breaths are coming shorter now, his t-shirt already sticking to his back from the effort it takes working himself on Chris’s cock in the unexpected heat of the day.

“You’re doing so well,” Chris whispers in Sebastian’s ear, knowing how the praise will affect him. “You look so damn good bouncing on my dick like this, sweetheart.”

Sebastian whimpers, trying his best to speed up even further while he tightens involuntarily around Chris’s length. It’s not easy, though, in this position, so Chris helps him out a little by letting his hips snap up, fucking up into him as hard as he’s able.

“Aahh,” Sebastian moans, jerking upright. “Right there, I’m – oh.”

Chris does it again, pushing in deep while Sebastian grinds down, mindlessly chasing his pleasure.

He’s beautiful like this. He’s beautiful always, but especially like this. Lost in pleasure, eyes dark and heavy-lidded and a flush on his cheeks, his red mouth open, looking almost surprised at how good he’s feeling. And that’s all Chris ever wants, too, to make Sebastian feel good. To make him feel better than anyone has made him feel before; to make him feel whole, and owned, and adored. All those things Sebastian craves but isn’t always able to ask for. So Chris doesn’t wait until he asks, he makes it his mission to give it to him whenever he can, anything he needs, whenever he needs it.

Because that’s the wayhe loves Sebastian: always, anything, completely.

A sharp sting brings him back to the present – Sebastian sinking his teeth into the meat of his shoulder. He gets bitey sometimes, when he’s close; a way to give expression to the building tension inside of him. Chris slides a hand up Sebastian’s back, tightly gripping the back of his neck. The hair at his nape is damp with sweat. Chris threads his fingers through it, tightening into a fist while he keeps pumping his hips, burying himself inside of Sebastian over and over.

“You getting close, sweetheart?”

It’s a sound Sebastian makes in reply, not a word, but Chris has learned to interpret all of Sebastian’s sounds by now, and he knows what this one means.

“Chris,” Sebastian breathes, voice barely audible, “Chris, Chris, ahh.”

“I’ve got you, Sebastian. I’ve got you.” He pulls Sebastian’s head back again, firmly but not roughly, and fits their mouths together. Sebastian kisses him deeply, desperately, hands coming up to grab his face as he squirms in his lap. His breath is coming fast, panting into Chris’s mouth, and when Chris reaches down into the front of Sebastian’s shorts and curls his fingers around his length, pulling him out, Sebastian makes a high, keening sound, his ass gripping impossibly tight around Chris’s cock.

“Oh, fuck,” Chris pants, “oh baby, you feel so good, so perfect – Jesus, you’re tight, sweetheart.”

“Come in me,”Sebastian says suddenly, giving Chris a wild, pleading look. “Come in me – please, Chris.”  

Chris growls. “Youwant me to fill you up? That what you want? Fill you up with my come?”

“Yes, oh my god, p-please,” Sebastian stutters, “c’mon, do it. Now.”

Not used to being the one to receive orders when they’re like this, the words hit Chris hard, filling him with renewed urgency. He gabs hold of Sebastian’s waist, holding him in place as he jackhammers into him, knowing he’s nailing his prostate with every stroke from the way Sebastian jolts in his arms. Sebastian’s fingers dig into Chris’s biceps as he holds on and takes it, takes it so good – until Chris can’t take anymore and tips over the edge.

His rhythm inevitably falters as he comes, spilling inside the intoxicating heat of Sebastian’s body, giving him everything he’s got. Even as his climax rages through him, somehow Chris remembers to wrap a hand around Sebastian’s cock, jerking him fast and sloppily until Sebastian keens, the breath being punched out of him by his orgasm. Chris feels him spill, warm and sticky, over his hand, staining his abdomen and shorts.

Finally, they’re both spent, Sebastian slumping against Chris’s chest. He breathing hard, still, but it’s slowing now, and Chris tries to match his own breaths to Sebastian’s.

“Hmmm,” Sebastian hums finally, turning his head to press a wet, sloppy kiss to Chris’s throat. “Chris?”

“Yeah, honey?”

“Love you.”

Sebastian’s always so pliant and sweet after sex, warm and cuddly and affectionate, and Chris cherishes those moments, soaking it all up to keep for later, when they’re apart.

“Love you too, sweetheart,” he whispers, runninga hand up and down Sebastian’s sweaty back in long, soothing strokes. “Youhappy now?”

“Very,” Sebastian says contentedly, and Chris can feel him smile against his neck.

“Good.” He presses a lingering kiss to the side of Sebastian’s face. “Thanks for helping me christen the Camaro.”

Sebastian snorts. “Anytime. And I mean that.”

[p4nkow]

D is for Dangerous - part II

with a bit of delay, here’s the second part! i’m having so much fun writing this fic, it’s different from my previous ones and it’s so challenging. i just hope you guys enjoy it as much as i do :)

Part I

Summary: driven by the desire of revenge, the reader tries to take down the man who ruined her life only to find out that her plan is an utter fiasco; however she meets a man that is gonna change her life and give her the chance of a lifetime

Four!Ben x Fem!Reader

hope you enjoy and let me know what you think :)

The next day

Your head was unbelievably heavy, almost as if made of stone. Your ears were pulsing, with a twinge of pain every now and then. Rays of sunshine were pushing you to open your eyes, not without resistance. The whiteness of the room you were in, at first made you believe you were in a hospital. You couldn’t be more wrong.

“Fucking finally!” A female, unknown voice pushed you to turn your head to your right. Your attention was caught by a good-looking brunette sitting on a black chair. Her hair was up in a ponytail and by giving her a better look you noticed she was wearing sportswear.

“Who the hell are you?” Your voice was a bit raspy, probably because of the thirst. You had no idea of who that girl was and sure as hell you didn’t like the way she was looking at you.

“I’m Five.” Right. The code names.

You found yourself wondering what could possibly be her real name – she seemed to be Latina, but it wasn’t the right time to think of her origins.

You tried to sit down but your muscles didn’t seem to cooperate. Your temporary weakness made you remember the reason why you felt that way.

Your sister. Four. The coffee shop. The explosion. But what did you agree to?

“Where am I?”

“In Heaven”, she immediately replied with an amused look. You rolled your eyes. You were starting to regret your decision.

“Is she awake?” The new voice coming from the door on your right caught both your and Five’s attention. 

Even before you could look at him, you knew it was Four. The girl was sitting right next to you, preventing him from looking directly at you – that’s why you knew he was talking to her.

“As you can see.”

Only when he took a few steps towards you, you had the chance to look at him. His blonde hair was just as messy as you remembered, a few strands of it covering his forehead. His green eyes were more relaxed than the last time, probably because of the place you were in. His safe spot. You were starting to get used to the scar crossing his brow, which made him look more dangerous than he actually was.

But the truth was that you had no idea of how much dangerous he was. And that was a problem.

An awkward silence filled the room when your gazes met. His staring was so intense that made you almost forget the sharp pain in your head. Almost.

“How you feeling?” He nodded towards you with his chin, indicating your circumstances.

“Great.” The irony in your voice was almost palpable.

Thankfully – or not? You didn’t know yet – the moment was interrupted by Four, who cleared her throat in a clear attempt of hiding a laugh.

You forced yourself to look at her and you noticed she had the look of someone who was about to make a bad joke. Six saved the moment by placing at the feet of your bed some clothes. You had no idea where they came from, but you were grateful to him – the clothes you were wearing smell of a mixture of hydrogen peroxide and antiseptic.

“Your injuries are mostly caused by the trauma, they’re mainly superficial”, he explained.

“My headache doesn’t seem superficial”, You complained as you tried once again to sit down, successfully.

“You were too close to the explosion. Dangerous but necessary”, said Five. You looked at Four for a confirm and he gave you a nod.

“Necessary for what?”

It didn’t surprise you when he avoided your question and said instead “Wear those, they should fit you. We’ll meet downstairs.” He nodded towards the clothes and took a step back, looking away from you.

When Five stood up right next to him, you found yourself wondering if they were a couple. The way her shoulder always seemed to brush his, or the way she was looking at him made you think so. But Four’s gaze was on you, almost as if making sure you wouldn’t disappear at any minute.

He turned towards the bed to give you a last look before following Five to the hallway and, probably, downstairs when he said you’ll meet. You took the chance to give a look at the room you were in and you sighed in relief when you found a glass of water on the nightstand right next to you. But loneliness didn’t seem to be a good thing, given that your thought immediately led you to your sister. You forced yourself to put the thought of her aside.

You’d made a choice, there was no turning back now. You were Y/N Y/L/N no more. You were Eight now.

-

As Four said, the clothes fit you. You were surprised to notice they were comfortable and felt nice. It took you some time before you could convince yourself to leave the room, but when you did a smell of pancakes hit you like a running train. Your stomach made noises and you were glad you were alone.

You still felt a bit unsteady on your feet – that’s why it took you some time before you could finally go downstairs. You knew you weren’t going to receive some help – you weren’t there to be taken care of, but to be trained.

The house was so big that you had no idea where you had to go, so you followed your instinct – the smell of pancakes. You walked through a room which seemed to be a secondary living room, furnished with extra modern furniture. Your attention was caught by some voices coming from the other room, separated by a closed door.

Your hand was resting on the doorknob. Before you could start to overthink as you always tended to do, you opened the door with a firm movement. The chatting didn’t stop at the squeaking of the door, nor when you entered the room. At first nobody seemed to notice you – Four was sitting between Five and unknown man, chatting cheerfully as he brought to his lips a glass of juice.

On the other side of counter there were three more people, and the man sitting on the first stool turned towards you. He took a long sip of his juice before saying “You must be Eight.” You were pretty sure you were never going to get used to your new name.

When the man stood up, you could give him a better look. He was very tall and some short beard was covering his jaw – he could’ve been in his 40s but oh man, he was hot. “Yeah”, that’s all you managed to say.

You felt a few pair of eyes looking at you and you forced yourself not to look at Six when the man said “I’m One.”

One. The man who started it all. You wondered what was the reason who pushed him to do such a radical choice – to fake his own death and seek revenge for those who had remained unpunished by the law.

You didn’t know what to say so you just gave him a nod, accepting his proposal when he offered you the stool he was sitting on just a few moments before. The man on your left gave you just a quick nod with his chin before focusing back on the pancakes he was eating. However, the woman next to him gave you a friendly smile. Blonde bangs were covering her forehead and even though her smile made you feel more comfortable among those people, she had a look that could kill.

You forced yourself to keep in mind that the people surrounding you had a past that they wanted to forget. That they wanted revenge on someone and for that same revenge they were ready to kill. As well as you were. You were willing to take it too far if that meant avenging your parents.

The reminding of be on the alert never left you. You couldn’t trust those people. Not yet.

“We’re not gonna poison you. Eat something.” The man on Four’s right nodded towards the food at the centre of the counter and his words made One smile, as well as Five.

Before taking a pancake from the pile, your gaze fell to Four. He was still holding the glass of juice and his hand was suspended on the air. When you met his gaze, his eyes were already on yours. However, you forced yourself to look away. You didn’t want to give the wrong impression to the rest of the group. Even though you thought that Four was handsome as hell, you wanted to put all your efforts to your task. There was no time for romance. Moreover, you were starting to believe that Five had it right. She’d figured it all out, even before you did.

“So, let’s make everything clear”, One said. “You’ve already met Four and Five. Four is gonna be your reference point if you need anything.” Good to hear.

One kept going only after you gave him a nod. “As I’m sure Four already told you, we want Kevin Kuklinski dead just as much as you do.” You forced yourself not to grin at his words – it was bullshit. There was no way they could want it just as much as you. He’d taken everything away from you, your family. To them he was just another criminal left unpunished.

“Yeah”, you murmured anyways.

“He’s our first target.” One wanted to make it clear.

“That hijo the puta”, you heard the man on your left murmur. You couldn’t help but agree with him. “I’m Three, by the way.”

Three – as well as Five – seemed to have some Latin origins. His jaw was covered with some beard but his eyes were ones of the most expressive you’d ever seen. You wondered what his skills were, what was the reason why he joined One’s group.

The questions coming to your head were countless, but all that came from your mouth in response to his presentation was “Nice to meet you.” Basic. Boring.

“Show her”, Four suddenly said. His tone pushed you to raise your gaze to him. His expression seemed relaxed but his jaw was clenched. You didn’t like the look One gave him – almost as if he didn’t want to show you whatever he had to.

“Yeah, One. Show her”, Five said, supporting Four’s cause. However, she had an amused grin on her face as if she couldn’t wait to see your reaction. But your reaction to what?

One sighed and almost as if he was being forced to, he turned on the TV. He changed a few channels ‘till he found a news. You only had to wait a few minutes before hearing the big news.

As you already knew, there’d been an explosion right at the centre of New York. An explosive device had been placed in a van for unknown reasons and it’d caused one death. Yours.

You had to take a few breaths to process the journalist’s words. You still hadn’t thought of the reason of the explosion, but now you knew. And you couldn’t help but to think of your sister, how heartbroken she must have been, how it’d destroyed her.

It all made sense now.

“You agreed to that, honey”, the blonde woman said in a sweet tone, probably noticing the look in your eyes. And she was right. That’s what you’d agreed to.

So you cleared your voice and you tried to look as determined as you could, meeting her blue eyes. “And I don’t regret it.”

“I’m Two”, she said with a smile. Your look must’ve convinced her to open up. She was a gorgeous woman, her blonde hair made her seem almost angelic. Which was absurd, given that she’d joined a group of vigilantes.

“What if I told you I know what happens when you die?”, the man next to Four suddenly said. He looked at you with fierce and decision in his eyes. “You don’t exist anymore. You become a ghost. They’re gonna mourn you, then they’re gonna forget you. Maybe your family will, but no one else is gonna remember your name. You’re just a martyr of the violent society of today. And no one is gonna pay for it. That’s why we refused to comply with their conventions. That’s why I’m Seven and not the person I used to be.”

A few murmurs of agreement came from the rest of the group. Seven’s posture and haircut made you think that in his past life – if you could call it like that – he’d been part of the Army. His tone, however, showed deeper wounds. Painful ones. The only sure thing was that he’d suffered a lot and his grieving was still fresh.

“Also, no more criminal records”, Four added to his words. God knows what where his criminal records.

“No more office parties”, Five stepped in. “Or stupid weddings.”

“The best part of being dead”, One said, catching your attention “is the freedom. Not policies or politics.”

Each and every one of them seemed to carry a weight on their shoulders heavier than themselves. You had no idea how much they’d suffered in the past – how much they were still suffering. They were channelling that sorrow into changing the world for the better. Sorrow linked each and every one of you one to the other. That was the first time you felt one of them. That was the first time you felt like Eight.

Four must’ve noticed the change in your eyes, the confidence in your gaze when you met his. And he smiled. The corners of his lips lifted in pride and – headache and steadiness put aside – you felt more than ready to be one of them.

-

After breakfast everyone seemed immersed in their conversations when Four walked towards you. “Come with me.”

“I have a déjà-vu”, you replied with a smile.

Four got the reference and slightly smiled. As the two of you left the room unnoticed, you couldn’t help but wonder where he was leading you. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” You weren’t expecting a different answer. Four and his bloody mysterious answers.

You sighed at his words and you were pretty sure he was smiling. “How are you feeling?”, he asked you after a few seconds of silence.

You still had a terrible headache but every step you took, you felt more confident in your own feet. You were starting to recover, so you weren’t lying when you replied “Better.”

“Good.” He seemed to be lost in his thoughts and you took the chance to give a quick look at the room you were walking through. One of the walls was covered in maps of buildings, sewers, aerial maps. You recognised Kuklinski’s building from an aerial photo pinned in a corner of the map.

“How are you feeling?”

He seemed confused at your question — his brows narrowed and you could tell he was thinking about it. “Fine”, he finally said with a nod. His answer didn’t convince you but you didn’t insist any further.

When you finally arrived to what seemed to be a big, large gym, you were taken aback by the amount of equipment in it. Punching bags, weights, different types of exercise machines... but that wasn’t even the most exciting part of the room.

On the other side of the room there were targets pinned at the wall. The wall opposite to it was filled with knives, different types of them. From the tiniest and sharpest ones to the biggest and scariest. Among all those weapons, you couldn’t help but notice an apparent very heavy door.

“Where does it lead?”, you asked and Four grinned at you.

“You’ll see, but not today.” Damn it. “Wait here.” You were standing right in the middle of the room as he walked towards a locker. You stared at him as he looked for something in it.

Even though he was wearing a hoodie, you could still see the shape of his tonic back. The memory of him jumping from a building to the other came back to your mind and you wondered if he was a sort of a professional. Professional of what, though?

“Four?”

“Hm?”, he murmured without turning towards you.

“What did you do before?” You knew you were being nosy but you were curious as hell.

“Before what?”

“Before.”

He finally turned towards you and you gaze fell to his hands — he was holding a gun. You immediately tensed up and he giggled as he walked towards you. “Relax, I’m not gonna shoot you. Although...”

“Oh, shut up.”

Four laughed. It was the first time you heard him doing it and man, it was a sound so deep that you felt it in your bones. You smiled back at him but he was dangerously close to you. You crossed your arms to your chest, wondering what the hell he was up to. “I hope it’s not too scary.”

You suddenly realised he didn’t answer your question about his past.

“Four.” You were starting to lose it and it made him giggle. Bloody Four and his cocky behaviour.

He tapped your chin, forcing you to look up and meet his green eyes. You were so close that you could see his Adam’s apple rise and lower. You took a deep breath and forced yourself to look unbothered from his closeness. “Our first strike—”

“Kuklinski?”

Six lifted a corner of his lips. “Kuklinski”, he confirmed. “It’s gonna be in two weeks. That’s all the time we have to train and update you with the plan.”

“I’m ready.”

“No, you’re not. You’re still recovering from the explosion and that’s why we’re gonna start with something easy.”

“And guns are easy?”

He didn’t answer. He limited himself to look down at the weapon, twisting it in his hands. “It’s essential for you to know how they work, how to act when they misfire and especially how to change the magazine when you’re out of bullets.”

Was he kidding you? You weren’t the most skilled woman on Earth but sure as hell you had trained before going after Kuklinski all by yourself. He was right when he told you you had no chances against him and his men, but sure as Hell you weren’t as unprepared as he thought you were. You weren’t that stupid and you wanted to show him.

You tried not to laugh at the shocked expression on his face as you took the gun from him and started to disassemble it. You knew exactly what you were doing and it took all the strength in your body not to smile in pride when you reassembled it almost effortlessly.

When you looked up to him, his gaze was fixed on your hands and on the perfectly reassembled gun, his brows raised in surprise. “Were you saying?” You were starting to sound just as cocky as him.

“One had it right – you really are our perfect Eight.” His words made your heart flicker. You still didn’t know if you had made the right choice, but Four’s eyes were filled with pride and determination. And it was definitely a good start to your new vigilante lifestyle. And when he said “Let’s start with the fun part”, you couldn’t help but smile.

He led you towards the big, heavy door you’d spotted a few minutes before in the corner of the room. You were sure it was used a gym, but the thickness of both door and walls got you curious. Four gave you a quick look from above his shoulder before opening the door with a thud and you couldn’t say you were surprised when you found out it was a sort of firing ground.

You weren’t surprised. You were mesmerised. Adrenaline was running through your veins – you could easily feel it giving you the courage to face what was about to happen. Four was still leaning against the doorframe when you took a step into the room.

It had at least seven or eight different spots, each and every one provided with targets and noise-reduction headphones. “You look like you’re at Disneyland.”

“It is my Disneyland”, you immediately replied. When Four followed you in the room, the door closed behind him with a loud thud.

“It’s a soundproof room. We don’t want the neighbours to worry and call the police. The door is reinforced and isolated, so we can have all the fun we want.” The meaning of his words was pretty much different from how you got them. Very different. That’s why you immediately blushed and looked away from him, tried to look unbothered and professional.

At first Four didn’t get the reason of your weird reaction, but then he thought at his own words. He cleared his throat and walked away from you, towards another locker. A heavier one.

You tried to put yourself together as you walked towards one of the spots, grazing the edges of the privacy boards. You felt Four footsteps coming towards you but you didn’t turn around.

“I’m a parkour expert”, he suddenly said, answering the question you made him a few minutes before.

It made sense — he was very athletic and the way he run away from your first meeting should’ve clued you in. “Cool.”

“Yeah?”

“Hm-hm. I can’t even imagine doing something like that.”

You could feel him standing right behind you and his chest grazed your shoulder when he leaned towards the table in front of you to place a new gun. A professional one. You couldn’t help but smile.

It wasn’t charged so you immediately inserted the magazine with a firm movement. Your headache was long forgotten – it was worth this adrenaline rush. When the weapon was finally ready for being used, you turned towards Four to make him a silent question.

His green eyes were already on you, a slight smile on his face. He moved next to you and gave you just a quick nod with his chin, giving you the green light. So you positioned as you’d done countless times by now, holding the gun with both hands to make your aim even better.

But you didn’t fire. Four adjusted your aim with a tap of his hand, moving your joined hands a few inches higher. “Shoulders down”, he said in a whisper, right before his hands moved to that spot. You could feel your back muscles relax at his touch, but you didn’t want to lose concentration.

“You don’t have to fire just because you have to”, he kept saying in a low tone, moving behind you. “Out there, at Kuklinski’s or at the rest of the targets’, you’re not going to shoot because it’s your duty. You’re gonna do it because you believe in our cause. Because those man deserve to be punished.”

You could feel your back tingle where he’d touched you, craving for more. But he wasn’t done. Oh man, Four had a lot more to say. “That target right in front of you, is not gonna be just a piece of plastic or a mannequin. You’re gonna get to the point that the bloody target you’re aiming to, is gonna be replaced by Kuklinski himself. By the man who didn’t think twice to kill your parents. The man who ruined your family, changing your life for good. The first time I saw you at his party, I saw anger in your eyes as you looked at him. If stares could kill, Kuklinski wouldn’t have been a problem anymore. But I know that feeling and I want you to use it. Channel your anger to this cause, Eight. Be one of us. Be ready.”

You could feel his words running through your veins and carving in your soul. There hadn’t been a wrong word in his speech. You didn’t know it was possible, but Four had understood your new feelings even before you did. And it scared you the fact that someone could know you so well in such a short time. But at the same time his words and behaviour empowered you. They made you feel confident.

Something changed in you at the thought of Four. Wonderful warmth spread over you. You didn’t like the way you were feeling. There was no space for that in your new life.

When you looked back in front of you, it wasn’t the target you were thinking of. It was Kuklinski. Each and every member of the group had their own Kuklinski to punish and you only realised it thanks to Four’s words. Just like the other were ready to help you with your cause, you’d have helped them with theirs. Because Four was right. You were one of them by now. And you had to accept it. So you fired.

A week later – One week until the hit on Kuklinski

You were staring at the gym ceiling, little black splotches dancing in front of you. Man, your butt hurt. No surprise, as you’d landed on it about fifty times already. The only thing not burning with pain was your face; it was on fire for an entirely different reason – Four was attending your humiliation.

Your training with Seven wasn’t going well. This style of hand-to-hand combat wasn’t exactly your second nature. Your muscles screamed as you pulled myself off the mats and faced the man in front of you. “C’mon, don’t give up. You can do it.” Two tried to cheer you up, but the truth was you sucked. You weren’t as athletic as her as she kept punching and kicking One. They were training as well.

Three and Six, on the other hand, were on the lab in the upper floor, working on a special camera that could’ve gone unnoticed during a metal detector check. They basically were the nerd of the group.

But the reason you kept missing his heel strikes and spin kicks wasn’t because you sucked. Well, not just because you sucked. The source of your absolute failure leaned against the training room wall. Blonde waves tumbled over his forehead, falling into his deep green eyes.

Five was assisting to your fiasco right next to him. The two of them were chatting and giggling as you were being constantly knocked out by Seven. An instant later, your gazes locked. He gave you a look that said you should be paying attention to Seven and not him.

You blocked his knee with a brutal swipe of your arm, and then you went for a throat strike. Seven countered it easily. You circled one another, delivering blows and dodging them. He stepped back, dropping his arms to his sides. You saw your opening and went for it. Spinning around, you aimed your knee for his midsection. He darted to the side, but not quickly enough. You caught him hard in the stomach.

You held back a squeak of excitement as Seven gave you a surprised look. The thing about defensive kicks — once you made contact with your opponents you either needed to go for the kill shot or back up. You’d done neither. He doubled over your knee and went down, taking you along for the ride. “You should’ve ended me, Eight.”

“Yeah, right.” You scrambled to your feet and ignoring Seven’s look, you stole a quick glance at Four. His expression may have appeared blank, but you knew he’d already compiled a mental list of all the things you’d done wrong and filed it away. That’s what he’d been doing for the last week: “Your feet were too close. You were too distracted. You didn’t spin right” were just few of the things he always said to you.

“Could we take a break?” Maybe because of your tone, maybe because he realised that you were starting to beat yourself up, Seven said “You’ve got five mins.”

Thank God. The cold water running down your throat felt so good that you had to hold back a moan. Besides, you were trying so hard to focus on that feeling rather than at Four laughing at something that Four had said. You were trying so hard to ignore them that you didn’t even notice Four walking towards you.

He circled you, stopping to position your arms at mid-level. “You’re holding your arms wrong. That’s why Seven’s hits kept getting through.”

“Oh, thank God. I thought it was because I sucked.” Your voice was a little sharper than you intended, but Four had seen how mortifying this training had turned out.

“Eight.”

“Sorry”, you replied with a sigh. You rubbed your eyes as you tried to take deep breaths, looking back at him only after a few seconds. He was looking at you with concern, his brows more narrowed than usual.

“I know it’s hard—” he started to say, but you immediately cut him off. “I’m fine.” You were trying to convince yourself more than him, but at the same time you wanted him not to worry for you. Not when you had bigger problems to deal with.

He gave you a condescending look, his shoulders rise and lower as he sighed in concern. “You’re getting better every day.”

“You don’t have to say it just because Seven’s been kicking my ass for hours.” Despite the situation, you genuinely smiled.

Four’s features relaxed at the sight of your smile. “You really are getting better.”

Your gaze involuntarily fell to Five, standing just a few steps away from you. She was already staring at the two of you but as soon as your eyes met, she looked away with indifference.

“Guys, I think I did it.” Three seemed almost out of breath as he gave a quick look at the group. Four’s expression lit up, as well as the rest of you. The camera Three was working on was going to be placed on Six. He was going undercover, giving us the chance to see every corner of the building so that we knew how to move once we were in.

Excited chatting started to echo in the room as One, Two and Seven walked towards the door, following Three to the lab. Five was right behind them and Four took a few steps too, when she stopped and turned towards him. “You coming?”

“Uhm”, he said, turning towards you and giving you a questioning look.

“I think I’m gonna stay here a little bit more. Y’know, gotta practice on my arm position.” And it was the truth – you preferred to train some more.

He seemed conflicted. He looked at Five, then at you, then at Five again. “You go on. I’ll help her with some exercises, then I’ll join you guys upstairs.”

Five pursed her lips and gave him a little nod, leaving the room without saying a word. Despite the fact that you were exhausted, you couldn’t help but rejoice in silence at his decision to stay with you. “So you’re gonna help me?”

“C’mere”, he said by pointing at the mat. You placed your arms in the position that Four’d told you but he said “Higher, love.”

Love. Your brain knew it was just a nickname, but your heart didn’t.

You swallowed and gave him a quick nod, following his instructions. And then you sprung right into action. He blocked the first jab but adrenaline made you quicker than he thought. The broad side of your arm slipped past his blocks, cutting him across the chest. It didn’t faze him — not one freaking bit. But the pride spiked inside you and the surprised smile on his face pushed you to fight harder than you did before.

“So you’ve got claws”, he teased you.

“Shut up.” But you smiled.

You circled each other, exchanging blows. Four didn’t go all out on you, and it only pissed you off. You attacked harder, moving him backwards across the mats. His eyes flared a dangerous shadow as he caught your fist inches from connecting with his nose. Bad form to aim above the chest, but screw it. “You’re cheating.”

“I’m never going to have the upper hand if I don’t cheat”, you replied with an apologetic smile.

He seemed surprised by your answer. “Touché.”

You went to use one of the offensive moves Seven’d taught you days ago. Four moved so he caught you mid-flight, bringing you down on the mat. He landed above you. “Four.”

“Hm?”, he said with a grin. You tried to sit up but he pushed you down with one hand.

“Let me go.” He captured your wrists easily when you tried again to slip away. Actually, it was embarrassing how quickly he subdued you. This time he pinned you to the mat.

You threw your head back, ready to plant your foot somewhere when your eyes met. You did stop then, with his face inches from yours. The atmosphere changed as one of the wild emotions swirling through you managed to break free.

His lean torso and legs were pressed against yours in a way that made you think of other things — stuff that wasn’t fighting or killing, but did involve sweating, lots of sweating.

Breathing became difficult as you continued to stare at one another. His blonde waves had fallen forward into his eyes.

He wasn’t moving, and you couldn’t even if you’d wanted to. You didn’t. God, you didn’t want to move ever. You saw the moment he recognized the change in you. Something shifted in those eyes of his and his lips parted.

This was just a harmless, stupid crush. You had to put it aside – you had bigger problems to deal with. There was no space for romance in your task. Even as you lifted your head, bringing your lips mere inches from his, you kept telling yourself that. You didn’t want him. But then, contrarily at the things you kept repeating yourself, you kissed him.

At first, it wasn’t much of a kiss. Your lips just brushed his, and when he didn’t move away, you pushed harder. Six seemed too stunned to do much of anything for a few seconds. But then he released your wrists and his hands slid up your arms.

The kiss deepened, full of passion. Then Four pressed down, and you weren’t the one doing the kissing. His lips moved against yours, his fingers pressing into your skin.  After only a few seconds he broke off the kiss and sprung away from you. His heavy breathing filled the space between you. His eyes were wide; they’d dilated until they were almost black.

You sat up and scooted back. What you’d done made it through the thick haze clouding your thoughts. You only knew him for a few days and you’d kissed him. Despite you kept repeating to yourself not to. That there was no space for romance in your new, dangerous life. He was just teasing you, but you brought the thing to the next level. Oh man. Your cheeks flushed. Your entire body flushed.

Four was looking at you as if he was lost. Completely blindsided. He stood slowly and said “It’s alright.” His voice rasped.

“These things happen… when you’re feeling a lot of stress.” Was he rejecting you?

“I can’t believe I did that”, you tried to explain yourself.

“It’s just stress”, he repeated. “It’s okay, Eight.”

You jumped to your feet. “I should go now.”

He was about to move towards you but stopped short, wary of coming any closer. “Eight, it’s all right.”

“Yeah, it’s just stress, right? Okay. Everything is totally okay.” You backed up, looking everywhere but at him. You were definitely rambling. When you looked at him he seemed to be about to say something, but he stood quiet. So without any word, you backed away and left the room behind you, as well as your dignity.

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The Four Gospels Of Sci-Fi

The “canon” of science fiction is in the news again in the wake of the recent Hugo awards, and since I’m nothing if not opinionated and I also want to load up my posting queue before diving into my next big project, this struck me as an apt topic to write on.

So settle back; we’re going to touch on the history of sci-fi, the influence of its old guard, how it pertains to religious literature, and perhaps even delve a little bit on Christianity itself at the end.

First off, a quick recap of Christian scripture for those who aren’t read up on the subject.  Vacation Bible School veterans can skip this part.

. . .

The foundational works in the Christian New Testament are the four gospels:  Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.

The first three are referred to as the synoptic gospels because they tell basically the same story in the same beats, differing in style and detail, but essentially the same.

Mark is considered the oldest of the three and the primary source for Matthew and Luke (boy howdy! Am I ever streamlining a lot of Biblical scholarship here but bear with me; I’m doing this to make a point about sci-fi, not religion).

The common Christian reading of the three synoptic gospels are that Mark is the basic story, Matthew (because of its focus on Old Testament prophecies) was written with a Jewish audience in mind, Luke was written for gentiles.*

John is the gospel that sticks out.

To grossly oversimplify, the biggest difference is that the synoptic gospels mainly record what Jesus said and did, John focuses more on the who and why.

And that’s all we need to know at this moment…

. . .

The four gospels of sci-fi are Heinlein, Asimov, Clarke, and Bradbury.

(Before we go further, let us stipulate this applies only to those who came to the genre prior to Star Wars -- indeed, an argument can be made it only applies to those who were fans before Star Trek.)

Sci-fi’s synoptic gospels are the oeuvre of Robert A. Heinlein, Isaac Asimov, and Arthur C. Clarke; Ray Bradbury is the oddball.

I say they are the synoptic gospels because truth be told, you can only tell them apart by style, not content, certainly not by point of view.

If all three exchanged story ideas and plot outlines, the end results would be different only in tone and vocabulary, not theme or character.

Heinlein, Asimov, and Clarke were all technically trained and worked professionally as engineers or chemists when not writing; Bradbury was a gosh-wow! fanboy.**

If Heinlein, Asimov, Clarke, and Bradbury are the gospels of sci-fi, their John the Baptist was another John:  John W. Campbell

Campbell is a problematic figure in sci-fi, so let’s just get him out of the way ASAP.

He was a good but not outstanding writer, but when you write “Who Goes There?” (basis of the various film versions of The Thing From Another World) you’ve earned your place at the table.

He was a visionary editor and under his helm Astounding / Analog set the gold standard for sci-fi for decades to come.

He was a white supremacist of the paternalistic bent, and while on the one hand that’s better than being an outright hate monger, on the other it’s more insidious since it presupposes a correct worldview without challenging that assumption.

He was a male chauvinist of the same stripe, not particularly open to female writers but willing to publish the occasional story with a female protagonist…written by a male.

He was a crank who believed a bunch of goofball ideas, from psionics (ESP, telekinisis, etc.) to dowsing to the Dean Drive to the Hieronymus Machine (a device so wonderous that even a schematic drawing of it would work!).***

Campbell by all accounts was not a bad individual and the field is still replete with those who knew and loved him, but like the cranky patriarch**** who refuses to divulge the contents of their will, forcing everyone in the family to kowtow to them, Campbell’s position atop the highest paying / most prestigious market in science fiction shaped much of the genre around him.  (Full disclosure:  One of the greatest highlights in my writing career was finally placing a story in Analog after fifty years of trying!)

Writers would typically aim at Astounding / Analog first, and failing to sell there, the Campbell rejects would start a long, laborious trudge down the stairs to the cheaper markets.

This held true even in the 1950s when sci-fi magazines of a more literary bent (Fantasy & Science Fiction and Galaxy in the US, New Worlds in the UK) started attracting stories written for them, not Campbell hand-me-downs.

As Jeannette Ng observed in her acceptance speech for the 2019 John W. Campbell Award for Best New Writer*****:  “Through his editorial control of Astounding Science Fiction, [Campbell] is responsible for setting a tone of science fiction that still haunts the genre to this day.  Sterile.  Male.  White.  Exalting in the ambitions of imperialists and colonisers, settlers and industrialists.”

Campbell’s absolute faith in science and technology to solve all our problems (including the ones created by science and technology) while ignoring the very real problems that plague humanity since time immemorial (lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, wrath, envy, pride) coupled with his prime market position led to a genre that unquestionably accepted those settings as the only viable ones.

Campbell certainly held more direct sway over the writings of Heinlein and Asimov than he did Clarke, but Clarke’s earliest sci-fi sales were to Astounding and nothing he wrote in his first decade as a writing professional fell outside the big cushy box Campbell crafter for the genre.

And even though Heinlein and Asimov broke off for cushier writing gigs elsewhere (Heinlein in novels, Asimov mostly as a popular science promoter), they remained steadfastly loyal and respectful -- as did Clarke -- to the ends of their lives.

And on a personal, individual level, that’s a good thing -- we all need friends who will stick by us.

But Bradbury never got invited to the party.

Which is not to say he didn’t try to crack Astounding -- he did, on four occasions, two of them humorous short-shorts for the magazine’s “Probability Zero” feature, one run of the mill magic-shop-disguised-as-super-science-store tale sold in the middle of WWII when Campbell’s best writers were on active duty, and the last in 1950 when he was no longer Ray Bradbury, fanboy, but Ray Bradbury, Important American Writer!!! and Campbell published an excerpt from The Martian Chronicles.******

. . .

We’re going to take a sidebar here to discuss one of Al Ries’ immutable laws of branding.

Ries long observed there are only two models for any brand category:

A single dominant top brand with a distant second place competitor then a host of niche brands (Microsoft then Apple then everybody else)

Two big rivals fighting for first place with a competitor placing a distant third then a host of niche brands (Coke vs Pepsi with RC Cola trailing third then everybody else)

The way to break through in branding is not to waste time and effort trying to knock out a dominant brand but to create a new category to dominate!

That’s what Bradbury did in the late 1940s and early 1950s:  He stopped aping the default Campbell / Astounding style and began writing more lyrical / less techno-focused sci-fi.

Heinlein, Asimov, and Clarke were no dummies and soon they too branched out more consciously to mainstream audiences.

But as successful as they were, none of them ever fully shook the influence Campbell weighed down upon them.

That is why telling people today they must read the old masters results in eyerolls.

Too often the old masters trafficked in cleverness, not as Faulkner observed “the human heart in conflict with itself.”

Heinlein managed to transcend the genre a few times, but finding the gems in his work requires a lot of effort.  

Clarke remains dry and antiseptic:  it speaks volumes that his best known character is HAL 9000.

And Asimov just isn’t that goof in either concept or execution.  His Three Laws of Robotics demonstrates a failure of nerve and imagination:  Humans won’t build robots programmed not to harm humans because the first thing humans will make robots do it kill other human beings!

So there’s our canon: Mostly irrelevant, often impenetrable. 

The last author standing is the least technology oriented of the lot and Bradbury’s stories continue to work and delight because he doesn’t lecture on weights and measures but allows the reader to imagine along with him.

. . .

Okay, short Christian content now; if you came just for the sci-fi you can either stop reading or skip ahead to the footnotes.

Any field of human endeavor that does not constantly re-examine itself and challenge previous assumptions is doomed to irrelevance.

This does not mean established works need to be rejected out of hand, but we do need to ask what those works mean to us right now.

Truth is indeed timeless, but the package has a sell-by date and the contents do no one any good if they aren’t periodically taken down from the shelf and examined.

Modern Christianity -- in particular mainstream American protestantism -- has failed to closely examine the contents for quite some time.

While the field of sci-fi brims over with exciting new voices, we’re still straining to listen to the cracked / garbled / low fidelity wax cylinders of theologians long dead.

We need fewer Christians.   We desperately need better Christians.

Instead of demanding those outside or struggling with the faith must read things the way we were taught to read them, understand them the way we were taught to understand them, follow along the way we were taught to follow along, perhaps we should show faith in the material and let those who will read and re-imagine the text in the light of their own experience a fair hearing.

The old canon in sci-fi fails today because it is too dated, too rooted in the mindset of a bygone era.  The exception -- Bradbury (he himself a Christian and it shows in his stories) -- stays vibrant and alive and appealing because he doesn’t tell us what to think, he walks with us as we discover things for ourselves.

  © Buzz Dixon

  *  Acts Of The Apostles is a sequel to Luke and while Jesus appears briefly in the beginning in almost a flashback fashion, that book focuses on what his disciples did afterwards.

** An interesting trait Bradbury shared with Harlan Ellison was that despite their fanboy origins, both were one helluva lot more savvy to the business of writing and publishing than anyone else in the genre, and both skillfully created public personas that served them well (Bradbury’s better than Ellison’s, granted) while they guided their careers through the treacherous shoals of gatekeepers and public fancies.  Bradbury has written of his fanboy epiphany when he asked himself if he was satisfied being a fan / autograph hound or if he really wanted to be a creator, and immediately began directing his career in a fashion that could only be described as ruthless were it not attached to such a charming gentleman.  Wannabees are urged to study his career and how he did it if they want to be truly remembered.

***  All well and good as fodder for sci-fi stories, not so good in reality.  As the movie They Might Be Giants states:  “[Don Quixote] carried it a bit too far.  He thought that every windmill was a giant.  That's insane.  But, thinking that they might be... well… all the best minds used to think the world was flat. — But, what if it isn't? — It might be round — and bread mold might be medicine.  If we never looked at things and thought of what they might be, why, we'd all still be out there in the tall grass with the apes.”

**** To stretch our Biblical analog to the breaking point, if Heinlein, Asimov, Clarke, and Bradbury are the New Testament gospels and John W. Campbell is John the Baptist, then sci-fi’s Old Testament has patriarchs such as Swift, Verne, and Wells plus the matriarch Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, a major prophet in Hugo Gernsback, and a host of minor prophets in various pre-WWII niche media including comics.

*****  An acceptance speech which in turn won a 2020 Hugo for Best Related Work -- how cool is that? ******  Basically, Bradbury was perceptive enough to recognized he turned a creative corner in 1944 with “The Lake” and broadened his submission range to include far more prestigious slick magazines such as The American Mercury and Mademoiselle and Collier’s and The New Yorker and when tipped off that Warner Bros. planned to plagiarize “The Foghorn” as the basis for The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms he didn’t waste time or money suing but sweetly judo leverage this to get his name prominently displayed on the movie posters as “Ray Bradbury…Saturday Evening Post” writer and then holy %#@& he was a Major American Writer!  I loved Ray, but his gosh-wow sweet exterior camouflaged one of the most brilliant strategists I’ve ever met.

[yuh-kat]

Apathy

This is original writing by me. Do not repost it anywhere or claim it as your own, or legal action will be taken. <3

- Katsumi

“You’re capable of so much, why would you resort to this?” a shrill voice whined at Luella, gesturing towards her plagiarized history paper.

She groaned in response, burying her head in her hands, her unruly brown hair tickling her nose. She would have rather been anywhere but there. She looked up at the guidance counselor, realizing the question hadn’t been rhetorical.

“I got bored,” she grumbled. The counselor gave an exasperated sigh and turned back towards her laptop, scanning over the essay.

“You didn’t even try. This is straight from wikipedia,” she sighed disappointedly.

“I clicked on the first website that came up when I googled the topic,” Luella said, shrugging.

“Is something going on at home?” the counselor said, swiveling her chair around towards Luella.

Luella’s face began to twist, and the guidance counselor turned around to grab some tissues, preparing for the onslaught of tears she believed was coming. Not one tear fell from Luella’s copper eyes. Instead, a smile crept its way onto her face, eventually evolving into sinister giggles. The counselor ignored Luella, and continued.

“Are you a danger to yourself or anyone else?” the counselor asked dryly, clicking her pen.

“Do you actually know how to do your job or do you just recite some random questions you found on Web MD?” Luella snickered, placing her hands behind her head. 

Although she was very irritated by Luella’s snarky response, the counselor again exercised self restraint and ignored her, trying her best to keep her composure.

“Have you ever been diagnosed with a mental illness?” the counselor continued, twirling strands of her limp blonde hair around her long, pale finger.

“Does being American count?” Luella responded, picking at her nails. The guidance counselor let out a frustrated sigh, scratching at her blonde locks.

“Luella, seriously, what seems to be the problem?” the guidance counselor started, “Your behavior has been nothing short of deplorable this year.”

These words seemed to vex Luella, and she let out a sarcastic chuckle, almost like she couldn’t believe what had just been said. She brought one of her fingers to the underside of the counselor’s chin, tilting her head up so that they were making direct eye contact. The counselor swiped at Luella’s hand, but she didn’t move an inch.

“What seems to be the problem?” Luella repeated. “Hmm, let me give that some thought,” she said, removing her finger from the counselor’s chin. 

Luella got up out of her chair, pacing back and forth, feigning deep thought. When she was done, she sat back down and turned to face the flustered counselor.

“You, for one. The naive belief you have that your four half-assed years of studying psychology in college prepared you for this job. The dumb, optimistic way you view the world. Even the way your hair falls flatly around your face pisses me off. We’re expected to come to you with our issues, but just from the look you’re giving me right now, I can tell that you have no idea what you’re doing here. You can’t handle anybody’s trauma. You should quit now, marry rich, and have four fat ugly babies with your mildly abusive husband. Maybe then you’d have a fragment of an idea of how to approach this job,” Luella says, her eyes boring into the counselor’s.

The counselor was silent for a second, taken aback by Luella’s words. The anger was visible in her eyes, yet her lips formed a tight and strained smile. Luella smiled back at her. “I’m not sure what more I can do to help you,” the counselor said, tapping her fingers against her knee.

“Good thing I didn’t want your help in the first place,” Luella replied, grabbing her backpack from the floor and tossing it over her shoulder.

“Before you leave, you should know that your parents will be notified about your actions and you will most likely serve at least a two week suspension,” the counselor said, facing away from Luella. Luella smiled. “All that means is two weeks less of me seeing you and every other loser in this shithole,” she said, yawning loudly and stretching her arms. 

“Have a nice evening, Luella,” the counselor said unfeelingly, scrolling through her phone. Luella rolled her eyes at the counselor’s fake politeness.

Luella walked out of the guidance counselor’s office coolly, the conversation she just had already a distant memory. Her sweatpants hung low around her thin waist, gently rubbing against her dirty white sneakers. Her curly hair fell at her shoulders, slightly uneven in places where she had impulsively trimmed it the week before. Her beautiful bronze skin was the only colorful thing about her. She walked down the empty hallway towards the school building’s exit, wearing a dead expression on her face. 

When she reached the door, she observed the sun beginning to set. The sun’s bright rays hit her, and she stared directly into them, almost challenging the sun to try and blind her. She descended the school steps and began walking home. As she was about to round a corner, she heard a voice call out breathlessly to her. “Ella!” 

She turned around, and a smile threatened to appear at the corners of her mouth when she saw Kylen running after her. He wore a big, stupid grin that caused a slight blush to creep up on Luella’s cheeks. His shaggy brown hair bounced as he ran, his footsteps almost matching Luella’s accelerating heartbeat. When he finally reached her, he encased her in an all consuming hug.

“Get off me, idiot,” she said, her voice muffled by his shoulder. He laughed and pulled away from her.

“Why are you at school so late?” he asked, cocking his head.

“I left a book in my locker,” Luella said, the lie smoothly leaving her lips.

“Oh, well can I walk you home?” he asked.

“You’d do it even if I asked you not to,” she replied, pushing him playfully.

“This is true,” he replied, pushing her back. A giggle left her mouth, and her face heated up at his touch. “Haven’t heard you laugh in awhile. I missed it,” he said. Immediately, her dead expression returned, but butterflies were swarming her stomach, the heat in her cheeks increasing with each second she spent near him.

They walked for awhile in silence, Kylen appreciating the beauty of the sunset and Luella appreciating Kylen’s presence. The trees blew in the late-autumn wind, and Kylen stared in awe at the changing colors of the leaves. He picked up a reddish leaf and held it to Luella’s face. She stared at him, a confused look crossing her face.

“The color matches your eyes,” he said, placing the leaf in her hand.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” she replied, turning away slightly to hide the smile she knew she couldn’t suppress.

The silence returned, and they continued their walk, but Kylen seemed jittery. Luella tried her best to ignore him until he began fidgeting with his bracelet, at which point she decided to speak up. “What is it?” she said gruffly, putting her hands in the pockets of her sweatshirt. He sighed, and looked at her. “I need to tell you something,” he said. She knew what was coming. She’d been waiting so long to hear these words.

“I-,” he started. 

“I do too,” she said, cutting him off. He gave her a look of bewilderment, and looked down when he finally caught on to what was happening. “What do you look so confused for?” she said, awaiting his confession.

“Luella, I-” he began.

“You never call me that,” she said, dread starting to set in.

“I just wanted to tell you that I’m dating Lorelei. She’s the blonde girl in our physics cla-”

“I know who she is,” Luella snapped.

“Ella, please don’t be upset. I didn’t know you felt this wa-”

“Does it change anything?” she asked, her voice breaking a little.

“Ella-” “Does it?!” she screamed.

“No,” he said softly, looking at the ground.

“I’ll walk home on my own,” Luella hissed.

“It’s dangerous! Haven’t you heard about the murders? You’re my best friend and I-”

“Go home,” Luella whispered.

“Luella, please-”

“Kylen, go home,” Luella spat. He looked at her apologetically, taking her hands in his. She flinched at his touch, pulling her fingers out of his hands. “Don’t touch me,” she said, storming away from him.

“I love you, Ella,” he said. She stopped dead in her tracks, whipping her head around.

“How?” she asked, her voice low.

“You’re my best frien-”

“Goodbye, Kylen,” she said, turning back around and continuing towards her house.

“Ella, please, it’s dangerous,” he retorted, worry present in his voice.

She ignored his words and raced as fast as she could away from him. When she turned a corner and could no longer see him, she stopped running and put her hands on her knees, her head hanging towards the ground. Her breath escaped her in shallow, ragged pants. She willed the tears to come, but they never did. The only emotion she could feel was white-hot anger, the desire to beat something until it bled. She punched the telephone pole in front of her, and blood trickled slowly down her knuckles.

“FUCK!” she screamed at nobody, clutching her bloody fist. When the pain subsided, the desire to hurt returned.

She kicked and punched at the telephone pole, wishing it were Kylen. Her feet and fists stung, but nothing compared to the pain of Kylen’s rejection. What did Lorelai have that she didn’t? Why wasn’t she good enough for him? The memory of her conversation with the guidance counselor returned, and the intensity of her blows to the pole increased as she remembered the counselor’s failed attempt at helping her. Blood ran down her arms, staining her sweatshirt, but she took no notice.

She continued on walking as if nothing had happened, concealing her bloody hands in her sweatshirt. When she arrived at her house, two cars sat in the driveway, and she realized with dread that her father had come home early from work. She unlocked the door, and swung it open. Her parents sat at the kitchen table, their eyes shooting up to meet her eyes as she walked into the house.

“What?” she said nonchalantly, tossing her backpack onto the floor and plopping herself into the chair across from them. “What?! What!?” her father said in disbelief, rising from his chair. “Ledger, sit down,” Luella’s mother whispered to him, trying to calm him down.

“Your school called to let us know that you plagiarized your history paper. Is this true?” her mother asked her softly.

“Yup,” Luella said.

“Why would you do that?” her mother asked, disappointment visible on her face. “It was a boring topic,” Luella shrugged. Her father was seething, and her mother rubbed his shoulder to calm him again.

“That’s not how you were raised,” her mother said, slightly annoyed by Luella’s tone.

“Sometimes shit doesn’t work out,” Luella responded, spreading her legs and leaning back in her chair.

“WATCH YOUR MOUTH!” her father bellowed, enraged by her filthy mouth.

Luella laughed, throwing her head back, further provoking her father. He pushed his wife off of him and ran over to Luella, pushing her off of her chair and slamming her to the ground. Her mother yelped in shock, afraid for her daughter.

“DISRESPECT IS NOT TOLERATED HERE. IF YOU WANT TO CONTINUE ACTING LIKE THIS, YOU CAN LEAVE!” he shouted in her ear, spitting on her face. She grinned. “Then get off of me,” she wheezed.

“What did you say?” he said, narrowing his eyes at her.

“I’ll go,” she choked out.

“No!” her mother screamed from the other side of the room, too petrified to step in.

Luella’s father released her from his grip, and she rolled onto her side, coughing as she tried to catch her breath. Her father walked towards his office.

“You’re no daughter of mine,” he said. Her mother’s eyes darted back and forth, panic setting in.

“He doesn’t mean that, he’s just upset,” she said, whispering so that he wouldn’t hear her.

Luella scoffed. “Yeah, okay,” she said, taking her hands out of her sweatshirt to put her hair up.

Her mother’s eyed widened. “What happened to your hands?” she asked, her voice almost a whimper.

“I got in a fight.”

“With who?”

“A telephone pole.”

Luella went upstairs to take one last look at her room, the hot pink walls contrasting the blackness stirring inside of her soul. She left without grabbing any necessities. She didn’t say goodbye to her mother. She walked out of the door, and never looked back.

Luella went on walking for some time before she came upon a park. Memories of her playing there with Kylen surfaced, but her anger had been completely exhausted. All that remained was apathy. She sat in the swing, kicking her legs to swing herself higher and higher upwards. When she reached the highest she could possibly go, she jumped off of the swing, landing with a thump on the woodchips. She was about to mount the merry-go-round when the hiking path caught her eye. Memories of jogging with her parents on humid summers flooded her mind, but she ignored them, walking onto the path.

The sun had completely set, but Luella remained, walking through the forest. The temperature began to drop rapidly, but Luella did not notice. Her mind was completely blank. She just continued on walking. After a few minutes of walking, she impulsively pulled out her phone and saw missed calls from her mother and from Kylen. She ignored these almost instinctively, and instead began scrolling through the rest of her notifications. A headline flashed at her.

Murder strikes again. Victim is 17 yr. old Ekaterina Petrov.

She turned off her phone and continued walking further into the forest. After a few hours of walking, she grew tired. She laid down in a pile of red leaves, remembering the one Kylen had given her just hours earlier. Sleep tempted her tired body, and she gave in. Luella did not dream. She did not think. She only slept.

Her phone emitted a loud, siren-like noise, causing her to wake up violently. The leaves rustled as she moved to grab her phone. The notification sat in front of her.

Murderer identified: David Hanley, 51. Last seen on Hemlock Hiking Trail.

The very trail she sat on. Luella laughed loudly, cackling like a hyena.

“What are the fucking odds?” she whispered to herself, remembering Kylen’s warning.

She slowly got up, yawning and stretching upwards, the moonlight hitting her. She continued on walking through the forest, the leaves crunching under her feet. She examined the dried blood on her fists and remembered how it got there, chuckling. As she was walking, she could almost swear she heard footsteps behind her, but she ignored it, not caring enough to investigate. She kept on, but when she felt someone step on the back of her shoe, she turned around.

He had her pinned to a tree before she could even so much as think. His knife was at her throat. 

“Any last words?” he asked, foul breath filling Luella’s nostrils. She smiled at him.

“I think they’ve found you, David,” she said, howling sinisterly. He pushed the knife against her harder.

“I said, any last words, bitch?” he repeated, and her laughter only increased in volume.

“Hide my body where they’ll never find me. That’s all,” she said calmly. He looked at her like she was crazy. He pressed the knife even harder against her throat.

“You serious?” he said, his voice raspy. She rolled her eyes at his hesitance.

He had unintentionally loosened his grip when he decided she wasn’t a threat. She grabbed the hilt of the knife and reversed it, swiping wildly at him, ultimately slicing his throat. The blood spurted everywhere, coating her face and clothes. When the blood stopped spraying, she wiped her mouth.

“There isn’t room for weaklings in this forest,” she said.

She turned around, knife in hand, and began walking to Kylen’s house.

[skvaderarts]

Apocrypha Chapter Fourteen: Simplicity

Masterlist can be found Here! Thanks!

Chapter Fourteen: Simplicity

Note: I'd love to know what you all think of the beach ark so far! I'm having a blast writing it, so I hope you've enjoyed it so far!

(-~-)

A hush fell over the quaint seaside sitting area that the pair found themselves under as they resigned themselves to silence, their minds and hearts heavy from the matter at hand. As the salty mist provided by the bay coated the pair in much needed moisture to help combat the sun's blistering rays, a gentle breeze picked up and shook the ancient tree they sat under. There was a certain level of peace and privacy that their surroundings provided them that they would be hard pressed to locate elsewhere, especially considering their proximity to the water. So they took the opportunity to think and clear their heads, safe from the prying eyes of the world around them.

Vergil stood with his back against the tree, his arms wrapped around himself as he pondered his next move. He was not fond of making promises that he couldn't keep, and as such, made a point not to do so. But in truth, he had no idea where to start looking for Vivienne. That trail had gone cold over two decades prior. He actually had more of an idea where Nero's mother might be than anything else, and even that was a longshot. The eldest Son of Sparda would need more information to work off of than he currently possessed if he hoped to actually achieve something worth wild.

This was going to be quite the undertaking.

Over on the bench just a yard or so away, V sat with his elbows against the tops of his thighs, his chin pressed into his cupped palms and he studied the ground in silence. He was far from used to being at such a profound loss for words. With his mastery of the english language notwithstanding, V was proficient in the art of speech despite his antisocial tendencies. So to have absolutely no idea what to say for several minutes on end was rather disconcerting to the young summoner. But despite that, he was determined to do something about that. He just had to sift through the murky pool in his mind and locate the particular topic he wished to discuss with his wayward father. That was proving to be quite the challenge however. And so he failed to progress any further.

The lack of diction between them dragged on for several agonizing minutes before one of them finally found the words to express anything close to what they were thinking about. If there was one thing they shared in that moment, it was a distinct lack of knowledge as to where to start the conversation they both knew they needed to have. V's mother's whereabouts were indeed important, but there was another matter they needed to get to the core of.

"You've grown quite again," Vergil said with an inaudible sigh, now sure that this might be one of the only aspects of his son's personality that caused him irritation. Testing the waters with his eldest child was not something he desired to do, but he was going to do so regardless. " Clearly you have something more you wish to discuss. I figured as much when I agreed to speak with you on these matters. Sugarcoating your intentions will get you nowhere. And I suggest you make haste. I suspect we will soon be missed."

V leaned in further towards the ground before taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. He exhaled slowly, opening his eyes with the same lack of urgency he his respiratory process possessed. A part of him had waited a lifetime to ask Vergil this, but he'd never been able to make his vocal cords produce the necessary sounds required to say what needed to be said. Perhaps a part of him was worried that Vergil might be insulted? That he might leave him to his devices again? It was a strange hell that V inhabited where he wanted as little involvement with his father as possible, while simultaneously wanting nothing more than to speak with him and then harboring the desire to make him suffer as he had made him suffer in tandem with those same feelings. It boiled down to a situation where he had no idea what emotions and impulses to actually act on, it the metaphysical war of attrition wagering within him kept him at a stalemate that he had a difficult time bypassing. There were times when his entire existence felt like a cruel joke, and this was one of them.

"... Do you have any idea what it's like to wait for someone to return every day for your entire life only to finally encounter them and immediately be tossed aside?" For perhaps the first time ever, V made direct eye contact with Vergil as he spoke to him. There was a certain fire that flickered in his eyes, indicating to Vergil that he was being quite serious." I am unsure as to whether or not I possess the capacity to forgive something like that, but a part of me attempts to every time that I am near you. I have yet to succeed. And I have no meaningful answer as to why that is. Maybe you can… enlighten me."

The eldest Son of Sparda had to do a mental doubletake to assess whether or not he was talking to his normally non confrontational offspring. To be entirely honest, that was the sort of blunt, no nonsense response that he expected to receive from his youngest child. Being told by V that he wasn't sure he could ever forgive him was as unexpected as it was brutal and crushing, and he wasn't entirely surprised or sure as to why that cut him so deeply. He had assumed as much in the case of both of his sons. But when it came to his classically inclined child, nothing was ever simple, not least his feelings towards him. V had been the subject or motivation behind many of his shortcomings over the last few decades, but that was to no fault of his own. He had been an autonomous being, going about his own life and perseverance in spite of his own struggles. Vergil would never sink low enough to pin the blame on him for his own decisions. But he would be lying if he said he didn't contribute to Vergil's motivation to do some of the foolish things he had done. At this point, he could only hope that V was still willing to give him the chance to not be the man he already assumed he was. 

He had to show him that he was not beyond redemption. 

But how to do that when he had been largely responsible for so much of the evil and pain inflicted upon him over the years? Where to start?

Vergil allowed his arms to fall back down against his sides, his posture shifting as he stepped away from the tree and migrated over to the opposite end of the bench where the young summoner currently sat. There couldn't have been more than five feet between them, a fact that V seemed to silently note as he looked down towards the ground in an effort to avoid the frustration  and anxiety that was threatening to penetrate the very core of his being. He looked relatively calm and collected on the outside, but he was practically screaming on the inside. And Vergil could tell that just by looking at him, a fact that V was aware of but was unable to reconcile. He both loved and hated this facet of his father's personality. Vergil was very good at reading him. Maybe too much for his own good.

"You have no incentive to do so," Vergil said quietly, his voice trailing off as he made an effort to not betray the internal conflict surging within him. He suddenly felt an immense desire to kill something. He would have to find something to occupy his time this evening." Let me give you one. I owe that to both of you, I suppose."

As he spoke, Vergil's gaze traveled to the side slightly. The distant look in his eyes told V everything he needed to know in regards to who he was referring to. The younger white haired descendant of the Dark Knight Sparda leaned in and locked eyes with his father in an attempt to drive his point home. There would be no mistaking his intentions.

"Then prove that to me. I believe in the actions of those around me, not the empty promises they fail to keep" V said firmly, his temperament unwavering and his gaze unflinching. For a brief moment, Vergil knew what it was like for other people when they spoke to him. It was like looking in a mirror, and he wasn't sure he liked what he saw there; what he'd left there. V's gaze cut through him like a plasma cutter through soft steel, never relenting. He knew definitively that this was the only chance V was capable of giving him, and that it was a leap of faith that he didn't make lightly. His son was choosing to take him at his word; to trust him unconditionally. That was not something he could just push aside and hope to achieve at his leisure. Whatever V asked of him was now a priority.

"Very well, then. Tell me what you want from me. What are you asking me to do?" Vergil said, returning the intensity that V was inadvertently sending him. There was no hostility present in their exchange, only the pain that came from the vulnerability and trust they were attempting to convey to one another.

For a moment, V looked away, blinking heavily as if flinching away from what it was he wished to say. After a moment of looking idly at the traffic to the left side of them, a sad, almost pained smile crossed his face. It was a fleeting and fragile thing, nearly imperceptible and small. But it carried the weight of a lifetime of suffering with it. Vergil couldn't help but wonder what weighed so heavily upon V's consciousness; what skellingtons slumbered in the dark recesses of his mind. Anyone who looked him in the eyes could see the truth in the pain that lingered in them. Perhaps that was why he avoided eye contact with others. After all, the eyes were the windows to the soul. And the soul that Vergil caught a glimpse of everytime he looked into them was one that had suffered enough in the short time that it had existed to last a lifetime. He would do what he could to mend that. That was what he was supposed to do. And that's what his father would have done if their positions were switched. He would honor the example set before him and rectify the mistakes of his past, even if he was just doing so in the smallest of ways.

"Great things are done when men and mountains meet." 

Their favorite poet had said that once. How right he had been.

"... I want the same thing now that I've wanted from you my entire life," V locked eyes with him again, the green orbs now slightly glossier than they had been mere moments ago. He had lost none of his intensity, something he shared with both of his parents," I just want you to care that I exist. I think Nero would appreciate that as well. Don't push us aside. As it stands, you're the only parent we have. Treat us like we matter to you. I've never experienced that, and I'm willing to bet that Nero hasn't either. Can you do that?"

Vergil nodded so slightly that it was almost totally missable, but V picked up upon it. Although brief in the grand scheme of things, he and Dante had known the love of their parents and had spent meaningful time with them. But be it intentionally or not, he had deprived both of his sons the care and attention they deserved from him. He could not speak for the motivations both of their mothers had possessed when they had chosen to remove themselves from their lives, but he could speak for himself. And he could admit that he should have been there. A part of him could care less if he'd known that Nero existed or not. Those were precious moments that he would never get to experience with them. He couldn't get them back, but he could stop squandering the opportunity that he currently possessed.

"Yes. Yes, I could. "How fortunate that the one thing V seemed to want from him was the one thing he had already planned to give him." I will speak with Nero. We have much to discuss. In the meantime, we should join the others. Dante will soon devize some convoluted plan to disturb us if we do not. There are too many witnesses for me to enact a proper revenge plot if he does so, and I have no plans to forfeit victory to him."

V nodded. Vergil was more than likely correct. He would go with him to join the others. His butt was starting to get sore from sitting on the slats on the bench anyway.

(-~-)

A wave of disbelief passed over the girls as Kyrie stood before them. Patty gaped, her hands clasped together and pulled tightly against her chest as she bobbed up and down in place. The young blond was absolutely thrilled to death by what they had just accomplished. Nico stood next to her, shaking her head in quiet disbelief. A part of her was admittedly irritated that she didn't have some sort of camera that she could use to document this priceless moment for all eternity, but she was more than a little bit sure that Kyrie was happy that wasn't the case. There could be no proof that she had ever done this. Rumors were enough.

Lady and Trish were just as shocked as their cohorts, but Trish just stared in disbelief and shock while Lady cackled like an immature schoolgirl. They were so angry that they hadn't dragged Nero along for this little shopping trip. But, to be fair, there was no way that they would have gotten Kyrie into such a sexy little number with him present. The poor girl already looked like she was going to drop dead from shock and anxiety just standing in the store dressing room.

"Well… h-how do I l-look everyone? Do I look okay?" She asked meekly, too embarrassed and put off by all the staring eyes to really know how to process their feedback. She wasn't accustomed to wearing a swimsuit, let alone a halter top styled one. Sparda above, she had to be out of her mind for agreeing to do this.

"You have to wear that to the beach, Kyrie," Lady said, tipping her sunglasses. The young brunette looked absolutely adorable in the simple blue and white polka dot swimsuit, and they would die before they missed the opportunity to knock the wind and the willpower out of Nero's body. Quite possibly his legs, too. He would drop dead at the sight of her.

"You look adorable. Lady is right." Trish said, giving her a gentle pat on the shoulder. She could tell that the young songstress needed reassurance. She wasn't as confident as them when it came to these sorts of things. A surefire side effect of her upbringing and environment. While things were becoming more modern and less stuffy in Fortuna, it was a slow battle that would take years to see meaningful progress. Everyone was too stuck in their ways for immediate change. 

Kyrie blushed harder. She wasn't used to being in anything that wasn't a long sleeve. She knew that how she was reacting was probably silly, but she simply couldn't help herself. As she considered the kind words of her companions, Patty pulled the ponytail holder off of her own hair and allowed her hair to fall down against her shoulders and back. She then pulled Kyrie's hair up into a messy bun and bound it into place, stepping back to admire her work. The girls all giggled like teenage cheerleaders in a cheesy sitcom and ushered the young brunette over to a mirror that was near to them, eager to show her just how cute she looked in the outfit they had picked out for her. She took a moment to adjust the ruffle one piece bathing suite and fix her hair slightly before putting on a brave face and turning back towards her friends. She trusted their judgement. They would never do something unbecoming to her. It wasn't in them.

"Do… Do you really think I look good in this?" She asked earnestly, allowing her hands to fall down against her sides before taking a deep breath. Kyrie had to admit that a part of her did in fact find the article of clothing they'd picked out for her adorable, but she wasn't sure if it was for her. It seemed like something that would look better on any of the other girls she was with. After all, wasn't she too… plain for something like this? She didn't have patty's golden blonde hair, Lady's stunning heterochromia, or Trish's… well, everything. And Then there was Nico. As far as she was concerned, everything about her meant that something like this was better suited for her. She had tattoos after all. She wasn't bashful about displaying her art to the world around her. Kyrie wasn't sure if she fit into this kind of group or this kind of outfit, even if Nero never shut up about how wonderful and lovely she was. She just didn't know what all these beautiful people saw in her.

The group standing before her seemed to clue into her apprehension. Nico wrapped her arms around her shoulders, squeezing her tightly. "Now you listen here, lil missy. You're just as cute as the rest of us, and don't ya dare think otherwise!"

Patty planted her hands on her hips firmly, nodding in approval. Her face was as serious as it was compassionate. "I agree with Nico, Kyrie! You're wonderful! Why do you think we love to hang out with you so much, you silly nilly? We all see how pretty you are. Every single one of us. There's different types of pretty, you know? Don't compare yourself to us. Just be you, Kyrie! You're great already!"

Kyrie blinked away the moisture that had begun to form in her large brown doe eyes, flustered by the compliments and kindness she was being showered in. Her friends were right! She was pretty, and so was the outfit they had picked out for her! She was going to show it to Nero, or die trying. With a determined nod, she smiled, putting on a brave face. She was going to have fun on this vacation, and no one was going to stop her. And if they did, she had a posse comprised of the toughest girls around to back her up. It was going to be okay.

"You know what… your right! I do look pretty," Kyrie beamed brightly, her smile returning as she nodded in conformation," Let's buy it. I can't wait to show it to Nero and see what he thinks!"

The girls nodded and ushered her towards the counter before she could come to her senses. They were positive they couldn't talk her into this a second time, so there was no room for error. They had to get a receipt in their hands before she snapped out of whatever spell she had just fallen under, and get her outside in the sand. Time was of the essence.

(-~-)

I hope you all enjoyed this continuation of what was going on in the last chapter! Kyrie needed a little pick me up with other girls, damn it! She never gets to feel pretty XD Stay safe out there, and I'll see you on Friday! I look forward to reading your thoughts on things so far! You're all wonderful!