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#i have so many plans in my head for my collections
trans-hoverfish · a year ago
AU Something like a sequel to the Survivors. Around like 2-3 years after they cure themselves from Kharaa. Everyone has their own base in the more safer biomes - some of them can live together, like Keen and Khasar, Berkeley and Yu, and Ozzy and Danby can live together too or just have their habitats right next to each other. Ryley, Bart and Avery can also live together or have separate bases and visiting each other a lot.
COMPLETELY WHOLESOME POST-SURVIVORS FANFIC IS SOMETHING I REALLY WANNA MAKE. they're a big family and i just want them to all be happy together!! they can have a big ol house they can all stay at together too!! qoq
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slasherboyos · 6 hours ago
Different World | Chapter One
Word count: 2000+
Date posted: June 14th, 2021
Warning: Cursing
“Different World” masterlist: Link
Next chapter: Link
Note: Alright, staring off with the first chapter! I also do want to mention that this fic is hugely inspired by @theyreonlynoodlesmike​​ and her story “It’s Just a Movie,” which included my favorite fanfic trope of reader-gets-thrown-into-another world and I loved reading it so much! Also, I am opening a taglist for this fic. If you’d like to be tagged with new updates for this story, shoot me a message and I’ll add you to that list!
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You let the door close behind you as you followed Claire into the movie theater, the unmistakable smell of popcorn and old fabric chairs hitting you. It was much quieter than it was outside, given that it was in the middle of the week and during the day. The only sounds were the movie trailers playing on the large display screens above the snack counter and the occasional mumble of people talking. If you listened closely, you may hear the occasional booming sounds of movies playing through the theater’s sound systems. As you approached the attending ticketer, you glanced at the encased movie posters on the wall to your left which displayed the new and upcoming movies. Nothing seemed super interesting.
“Oh, it is so much cooler inside,” you sigh, relishing in the air conditioning. Maybe full-length jeans were not the best idea for such a sunny day.
“It’s already so warm outside.” Claire fanned herself with her hand. “It’s only going to get hotter from here; summer’s just starting.”
Claire handed the two movie tickets to the ticketer and was given back the stubs. On the ticket was the date and time of the showing, the theater location, and the movie name: The Lost Boys. 
“It’ll be theater thirteen, to your left,” directed the ticketer. You and Claire gave each other a look of amusement. Now, that’s quite the coincidence. You thought and you knew your older sister was thinking the same thing. Number thirteen for the 80s vampire horror movie.
“Gimme.” You held your hand out to your older sister and she handed you the stub. You slipped it into your small backpack, making a mental note to put it with the rest of your collected ticket stubs when you had the chance. 
Claire looped her arm through yours.
“I know you’ve heard it so many times already, but The Lost Boys is my favorite movie of all time!” She sighed, but you could feel the tense excitement coursing through her body. “I am so excited that you finally get to watch it.” 
“I am aware,” you teased. “I’ve been hearing about this movie from you since I was, what, five?” She shoved you playfully.
“Can you at least pretend to be excited?”
“I am excited! The tickets were only five bucks!”
“I paid for both of them, asshole.” You scoffed. Claire had sprung the tickets on you while you were playing with your nephew, her son, claiming that she got a little too excited and impulsively bought them before asking you. You believed her, but you also guessed that she also wanted to get the chance to see the movie in theaters for the first time while also getting you to watch it; two birds with one stone.
“I’ll pay you back, asshole, if you’re going to hold this over my head.” Claire laughed. 
“No, it’s fine. I’m just messing with you.” She sighed, a genuinely happy smile gracing her lips. “I’m just so excited to see it in theaters with you.”
“What, your old ass couldn’t get the ticket when the movie came out in the 80s?” She shoved you again.
“I’m not that old, you little shit!” You laughed and Claire joined. 
For as long as you can remember, you have been hearing about this movie from Claire. She was in her late teens when she saw the movie with her now-husband and it stuck with her all the way into her thirties.
Your local theater had advertised that they were playing the film as their choice for this month’s throwback, so Claire was very quick to buy you two tickets. 
Of course, you had always planned to watch the movie, given how much Claire had talked about it since you were a child, but you just never got the chance. Whether it was a heavy workload, other priorities, or just plain forgetfulness, something always got in the way.
As you stood in line at the snack booth, you watched the trailer which was currently being shown on the large screens above the booth. It was some animated film, but it seemed entertaining enough to hold your attention.
Too bad you did not realize that you had made it to the front of the line. Or that Claire had ordered and paid. 
“Claire,” you whined, realizing that she was holding the tray and had begun to walk away. You caught up with her. “I was supposed to pay!”
“Well, consider it my treat.” Claire tried to excuse it. 
“But that was the deal; you buy the tickets and I’ll pay for the food. We talked about this in the car!”
“You were just too slow.” She held a cheeky smile on her face.
“You little...”
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You and Claire entered theater thirteen. When you stepped inside the dark screening room, you looked up at the seats, looking for a good place to sit. There were about fifteen or so more people seated in the theater, which was more than you expected; the showings of older movies usually did not get much attention at all. 
Once again, there was that unmistakable smell of popcorn and old fabric seats, but the latter seemed to be a little stronger. 
Claire tilted her head in the direction of a couple of empty seats near the middle and you followed her to them. The seats were not the most comfortable, being flattened after years of movie-watchers sitting on them. Well, it was not like you could complain too much; it added to the movie-theater experience! Watching a movie in a movie theater was a totally different experience from just renting it out and watching it on a computer screen. 
Maybe Claire’s excitement to see the movie in-theaters was justified.
You took a nacho from the plastic container in Claire’s lap and put it in your mouth. The plastic-y cheese was enough to satisfy your tastebuds. When you reached in for another, Claire pulled the tray away and harshly whispered,
“Don’t eat all the snacks just yet!” She jokingly pouted. “You gotta wait ‘till the movie starts!” You rolled your eyes. 
“Wow, you are such a hypocrite,” you jested. “Weren’t you the one who used to eat all of the snacks with dad while mom and I—”
“Oh, shut it!”
“I’m just saying—”
“No, the movie is starting, you dumbass!” And she was right. The theater lights dimmed and the surround-sound was in full effect. 
The movie started with a scene at a carousel. The camera panned up on a man in all black, revealing the bleach-blonde mullet on his head. He was walking casually, holding onto the nostalgic carousel horses as he walked by. Claire leaned over and whispered, 
“That’s David.” She put a couple pieces of popcorn in her mouth. “He’s the head honcho.” Behind the mysterious man in black, another one sped through the horses, an attractive smile adorning his face as he used the horse to his right as leverage to turn. Behind him, a head of messy blonde waves followed suit with another blonde with curlier hair and a sweeter, though more mischievous, face. “Dwayne, Paul, and Marko.”
“They're the vampires, right?” You paused to take and eat a nacho. “They’re the killers?”
“I’m not answering that.” You quietly scoffed and smiled, looking at Claire before looking back at the screen. Spoilers never really bothered you, but they have always bothered Claire, but she was not going to answer your question mostly to annoy you.
David took it upon himself to place his fingers under a girl’s chin, making her face him. Her boyfriend, who sat next to her, was less than pleased. Unfortunately, when he went to attack, David had walked past and he pulled on Dwayne’s jacket instead. This quickly escalated to a fight, but was quickly stopped by a security guard. He kicked the vampires off of the boardwalk. David glanced around before telling his crew to leave with him. Something told you this was not the end; these guys did not seem like the types to leave without a fight or something with equal satisfaction.
And you were right. 
The setting shifted to an eerily empty boardwalk and too what could be assumed was an equally spooky, empty parking lot. The only car was that same security guard’s. He got attacked by something which was flying, according to the camera work. 
So, vampires fly in this world.
You exhaled, releasing tension from your body and relaxing your shoulders. For such a cheesy opening, it seemed to spook you enough for you to become as stiff as a board.
When you took in your next breath, you paused for a moment. Something felt…
There was no longer that movie theater smell; it was something else entirely. Smoke? Sugar? You took another experimental sniff, trying to take in this mystery scent. The ocean? Is that weed? You turned to Claire and ask,
“Do you smell that?” You take another couple quick sniffs, pointing your nose higher. Claire mimicked your actions.
“No?” Claire raised an eyebrow. “Why? What are you smellin’?” You did not answer as you tried to pinpoint exactly what that was.
And then your vision got a little blurry. It felt like an eyelash had gotten stuck in both of your eyes. You tried rubbing your eyes, but to no avail.
Claire was now growing concerned. Maybe it was the mother in her, but it seemed to her that you were going through the woes of allergies.
“Are you okay,” she pressed.
“I think I got something stuck in my eyes,” you hissed, pausing to rapidly blink before rubbing your eyes once again.
Finally, after blinking a couple of times, your vision cleared and you could clearly see the carousel in front of you. 
Except it was actually in front of you, clear as day under the light of the sun.
And you were standing. Your backpack was on your back and you were standing. 
And Claire was nowhere to be seen.
“Claire?” You called out, almost being drowned out by the chatting people around you and the sound of crashing waves and seabirds. “Claire!”
This is getting too damn weird.
Your first instinct was to pull out your phone from your backpocket. You looked up in the corner of the screen and saw that you had about seventy percent battery left on your device. That would have been a plus in such a stressful situation, but a phone with no service was practically useless.
You looked up from your screen, noticing a mother and her son looking at her. 
“Mom, mom,” the boy yelled while tugging on his mother’s arm and pointing at you. “I want that walkman! Her’s has a screen like a TV!” In a panic, you put your phone away and looked off into the distance, trying to appear busy and pretending that you did not notice them. The woman looked at you a little weirdly, but did not say anything. 
“Sweetheart, that sounds ridiculous.” With a sigh, she pulled her son away, distracting him with a booth which was a game with winnable prizes.
With your hands stuffed in your pockets, you walked aimlessly and started to look around, walking slowly to be able to take in the sights. It was not long before you passed by what could be your first clue: a newsstand with magazines and newspapers on display.
Nervously approaching it, you looked down at the stack of newspapers. 
“Man found dead at Santa Carla Boardwalk, washed up on beach” was the headline, spelled out in big letters with an image of what you could only assume was the beach you were at. You soon found the info you were looking for, just under the publisher’s name. The date was as you expected, given that the movie ticket in your bag had said the same thing, but one thing was different and that difference made your heart drop to your stomach; the year was 1987.
Oh, that’s not good.
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yoonjinkooked · 17 hours ago
Part 5 - Let’s Talk About Sex
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(pls ignore my old URL, i’m too lazy to change it now RIP)
Pairing: Hoseok / Reader
Rating: 18+
Genre: FWB, university AU, smut
Warnings: cursing, oral sex (female receiving), a LOT of talk about their likes in sex - mentions of rough sex, bondage, blindfolds, anal, toys, creampies. 
They are also responsible adults who decide to get tested before they organize a creampie fest in Hoseok’s bedroom. 
Word Count: 2.6k
Summary: After a few years of being immune to Jung Hoseok’s charms, you suddenly fall into them, head first. All it takes is one night, too much alcohol and a lot of balls.
A/N: Heavily unedited. Platinum Hoseok destroyed me today and the words just... couldn’t stop. Pardon any mistakes, I promise I’ll go back to edit.
You didn’t know who was in charge of movie night - not at first, that is. But the moment the movie started, you groaned in irritation, albeit jokingly.
“What?!” Taehyung immediately whined, knowing that the groan was directed towards him. “It’s a great movie!” He is defensive.
“It is,” Joon agrees. “I’m sure it would be even better if it’s not our third time watching it.”
“You and your love for Rachel McAdams are truly astonishing,” you shake your head at him, making a few people laugh, but it’s already too late - the movie has started and it’s not like any of you plan on paying much attention to it anyways. Some are talking, some texting and some are chowing down on their popcorn - classic movie night at Jin’s place.
It was a much needed break, too. You’ve attended one too many parties recently and you all collectively agreed that this Thursday will be slow and casual - just you guys, a movie and a couple of beers.
Even though you’ve definitely seen it more than three times, you actually did pay attention to ‘About Time’. It’s a cute movie, definitely not torturous to watch, despite your earlier groan. Not to mention, you wanted to distract yourself from imminent danger - Jung Hoseok. Casually sat next to you, thigh to thigh, he paid you no attention but you know that he had picked his spot with intention. And while you don’t mind it, you are on high alert.
Things have been… good. Tentative is the best word to describe it. A few make out sessions here and there but nothing more than that - only one of those sessions was in public, but by now, it had become public knowledge that you and Jung Hoseok are a thing.
What kind of thing? No one knows, not even the two of you. No one asked either, your friends knowing that it’s better not to question you and to simply let it happen. It didn’t affect him at all, after all, aside from you and Hobi being a casual target for their teasing every now and then. It didn’t bother you - you’d both laugh and one would jokingly push the jester if they were within reach. It was a change that didn’t change much for anyone but the two of you - and even with you, it didn’t change that much.
You wanted it to, though. Knowing that Hobi was into you, realizing that you were into him, too - it was more than enough for you to want to take it to… the next level, in a sense. Making out was good, amazing even - but you were ready for more. The only problem was, you weren’t sure how to initiate it and Hoseok acted like he was purposefully waiting for you to make the next move - and knowing him as well as you do, you know it has to be true. If for nothing else but his own amusement, he was waiting for you to continue it.
He did little things, though - like just now, when he casually placed his hand over your shoulder and very subtly turned so that you had no other choice but to lean into him and his half-embrace. You did it mechanically, surprised by the suddenness of the move but as seconds went by, you melted into it - into him, into his half-hug. Not a bad pillow to lean on while watching a romcom, if you’re being honest.
No one notices, no one except you - just going to show how natural it is, how easy it was for everyone to accept the subtle change. Soon enough, if things continue the way they want them to, it might become a bit more natural even to you, too.
The movie keeps your focus, still able to make you laugh even though by this point, you know it by heart. It also has the ability to break your heart at a certain point - the room is quieter, with the gang either watching carefully or doing a silent task. The scene and the song always get to you, having had a soft spot for Nick Cave’s voice since you were a child with a mom with a peculiar taste in music.
“Y/N, are you crying?” Hoseok’s voice is a whisper, a question meant for your ears and your ears alone. Realizing that you were in fact crying, you wipe at your eyes quickly.
“No I’m not,” you sniffle, avoiding eye contact because you could feel the way Hobi was looking at you - it’s his look of endearment, care, something that feels both right and wrong at the same time.
The movie quickly turned to a happier note, much to your relief - now you were in the safe zone and Hoseok must feel it too - he leans in, pressing his lips to your ear. “Do you have any plans for later?” he asks, his lips tickling you. You shake your head and he continues. “Do you want to come back over to my place after?”
Well, when it comes to you, patience obviously isn’t his strong suit. Excited to explore this thing and relieved that he was the one to initiate it, again, you eagerly nodded, agreeing to his suggestion without a second thought. He pressed a quick kiss to your cheeks and you can feel his smile as he did so. It made you smile, too.
No one asked questions when Hoseok and you sat up the moment the end credits were over. Jimin and Jungkook exchanged knowing looks but no one said a single word except ‘goodbye’ or ‘see you tomorrow’. You left together, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Even as you walked to his place and talked about this and that, it felt like nothing more than talking to a good friend.
“You know,” Hoseok starts as you take a turn to enter his street, walking at a casual speed, in no rush whatsoever. “I thought that you might be getting cold feet again.”
“Why?” you ask in confusion - not once did you reject his advances, nor did you avoid him in any way - you even kissed him in front of a room full of people, for crying out loud.
“I’m not used to you being like this, I guess,” he starts explaining. “You always seemed more relaxed with other guys and you were never shy. Even that night when it all started, you were the one who approached me. You not… taking initiative, I guess, after some time made me wonder if you agreed to this only to humor me.”
“Hobi,” you whine, immediately linking your arm with his. “I’d never do that to you. Push comes to shove, you’re one of my closest friends and we’ve agreed to be honest. You’re hot and I want to take full advantage of the opportunity you’ve offered. I’d never agree to something I don’t want,” you tell him, relaxing a bit when you see a smile appear on his face. It didn’t reach his eyes though, not like his true, big smiles do. “I’m still… trying to get used to this, you know. I’m a bit awkward since I’ve only ever been in relationships and this is different. I’m sorry if that makes you second guess yourself but I promise you. I’m into you. And,” you lean in closer, even though there was no one around to hear you. “I also really want to suck your dick,” you admit in a quiet voice.
Hoseok’s eyes widen but he reacts quickly, a hand on your lower back pushing you into his chest as he connects his lips to yours, not even bothering with small pecks before turning it into a full make out session. A squeak escapes you when he squeezes your ass, causing him to move his kisses along your jaw, all the way to your ear “I think I promised you something else last time,” he whispers and before you can even realize what you’re doing, his hand was in yours and you are dragging him towards his building in hurried steps as he laughs at your sudden eagerness - if he had any doubts about your interest before, he doesn’t have them anymore.
Your arrival to his apartment is a blur - before you know it, you are on his bed, jeans thrown away and your panties moved to the side as he licks at your center viciously. Hoseok has you pinned down, his arms intertwined around your thighs to keep them separated and you glued to him - no matter how much you want to wither and escape his grasp - you can’t.
And you don’t, you really don’t - you just can’t help but thrash around trying to escape the pleasure but at the same time, that’s the last thing you want to do. If you could keep him between your legs forever, you would, gladly.
As his friend, you knew many things about Hoseok, from how he likes his coffee to which alcohol gives him a near-death-hangover. How much he loves eating pussy however, was brand new information. And by god, does he do it well.
“You weren’t joking when you said I’d end up screaming your name,” you somehow manage to blurt out between the loud sighs and moans that were flowing out of you. When he laughs, sending vibrations directly into your heat, you grip at his hair with all the strength you have in you. “Holy shit, Hoseok!”
“What can I say, baby?” he turns his head to the side, playfully biting your thigh. “You’re particularly delicious.”
“You’re infuriating but so good at this,” your words end with a groan as he decides to put his hands into the mix. With his lips on your clit and two fingers circling your entrance, he gives you a total of about five seconds before he slides his fingers into you, slowly. Another handful of seconds and the thrust his hand made were merciless, fast and precise, making you shake and release the sounds that one could either connect to bloody good sex or a freaking exorcism.
In record time, you were a goner - your legs weak around his head, sweat sticking strands of hair to your forehead and last, lazy licks and kisses that Hoseok leaves, all while mumbling how sweet you are and how good you look when you cum.
“I’m pretty sure you’re going to absolutely ruin me by the time we fuck,” you admit.
“Holy mother of god, why haven’t we done this sooner?” you ask out loud.
“I know,” you hear his giggles as he kisses up your stomach, lifting up your shirt as he goes. He stops just below the fabric of your bra, instead choosing to nestle his head between your boobs and look up at you with eyes of a puppy and not a devil with a tongue of death. “I don’t want to think about how many times we could have done that in all the years that we’ve known each other,” he chuckles.
“Maybe,” he laughs. “I’ve been told here and there that I’m good at it. But - do you want to go for it now or… because I wanted today to be just about you. No blow jobs, no fucking - just me, eating some good pussy,” you laugh at his expression, pretty sure that you’d cringe if those words came out of anyone else’s mouth other than his.
“I don’t want it to be today either,” you tell him but are quick to explain, looking away from him a little bit in shame as you run your fingers through the strands of his hair, choosing to focus on his carpet instead of him lying between your naked bottom half, his face pressed against your boobs. “I want us both to get tested before we take it that far. I’m on the pill and we’ve agreed on only being with each other, so I want to… you know…”
“What?” he frowns in confusion. For someone incredibly smart, he was really stupid now.
“Get fucked without a condom,” you elaborate, turning to give him a meaningful look. You can’t help but laugh at how his eyes are widened, excited at the prospect. “I want to feel you without a condom and have you… fill me up. I may or may not have a thing for that,” you admit. After all, you did agree on being honest.
“Interesting,” he smirks at you, making you giggle when he presses a finger to your side, right in the place he knows makes you ticklish. “What else do you like? What do you want us to do? If you think about it, we have a perfect chance to explore now, don’t we?”
He has a point - you have no strings attached to you and are close enough to not have shame in admitting your likes and kinks. Well, at least not too much. “Hmmm… Well, I already outed myself a bit here, so it's your turn. What do you like? What’s something you want to try that you maybe haven’t tried before?”
“How do you feel about… rough sex?” he suggests.
“With you? Extremely appealing,” you admit shamelessly. “And you about soft sex.”
“Absolutely love it,” he replies. “It all depends on the mood but I love both. Toys?”
“Box full of them under my bed - I’m sure you’d like some of them,” you wiggle your eyebrows, laughing with him. This is by far the weirdest but oddly comfortable conversation that you’ve ever had - not just with him, but ever. “And um… I’ve never done this but I’d… really like to try it with you.”
“What?” he asks, eyes as wide as saucers.
“Anal,” you admit with a bite to your bottom lip. Hoseok sighs deeply, hiding his face between your clothed breasts, shaking his head in what you would guess is disbelief.
“How am I supposed to let you leave this apartment now?” he whines.
“I’ll be back soon, though,” you remind him, smiling when he lifts his head back up to face you. “Would you want to try that at some point? You’d have to guide me through it, though.”
“I’d be… incredibly happy and honored,” he chuckled. “Where do you stand on bondage? Light stuff, like ties and handcuffs? Blindfolds?”
“On me or on you?” you ask him pointedly, and the look in his eyes made you wonder if kissing him at that party was the best decision you’ve ever made in your entire life.
“Both. Either,” he blurts out. “Fucking hell Y/N - is there anything that we don’t agree with? That we don’t want to try out?” he asks and it’s a damn good question - other than toys, you weren’t one for experimenting but that was mostly because your partners liked things plain and simple. Hobi has a curiosity in him, a curiosity that you have always admired. You should have known that he would be more than happy to take it to bed, too.
“We’ll have plenty of time to find out,” you remind him, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips, licking away the remnants of your pleasure from them before pulling away. “We should get tested ASAP. We’ll do other stuff in the meantime but when we fuck, I want you to feel you fully and to see your face as your cum drips out of me.”
“Y/N, you’ll kill me,” he whines again.
“I won’t. I’ll just have a lot of fun.”
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hanamitg · 20 hours ago
♂️MC’s Birthday
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Requested by @akira627​
“Oh, can you do the scenario where its their male s/o birthday?? Which dorm or year its fine tho owo!”
So, since you didn’t choose, I asked my trusty spinning wheel and that thing chose Scarabia. Hope you like it, and sorry if this took way too long to finish. -Mi🌸
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It was a big party at Scarabia. Kalim planned to have MC's birthday at Scarabia, even though Jamil against it.
Kalim went to greet a lot of people before went to the birthday boy. He hugged MC from behind, startled the younger male. "MC! Do you like it?"
MC smiled at him. "Yeah, never thought I celebrate my birthday here tho."
Kalim grinned. "Glad you like it! I still have one more gift for you! Let's go!"
Before MC do something to stop the older male, he already pulled out from the lounge. Hand in hand, they walked together to the treasure vault.
"Kalim-senpai... Please don't tell me you-"
Kalim turned to him. "You can choose your own present MC! Come on, choose whatever that catches your eyes."
MC sighed at his lover. "Actually, Kalim-senpai..."
The older male turned to him, looked confused. "You don't like it?"
MC immediately shook his head and hands. "No! It's not like that..." He scratched his neck nervously. "I prefer you choose it for me... Yeah! That's it... Haha..."
Kalim stared at him for a while. "Ooh! Okay!"
Kalim went to search for something while MC just waiting by the door. It took a while before Kalim was back empty-handed.
"MC... There are so many things that I chose..." He said, a little bit sad. "I don't know what to give you..."
Saw the pouting face, MC chuckled. He held Kalim's hand then squeezed it. "Let's just go back to the lounge, okay? Being with you for today is enough for me."
Kalim stared at MC with puppy eyes. "But, but I want to give you something..."
"Well, how about we choose it together?" MC suggested.
"Ooh! That's a good idea! Let's go!"
He pulled MC to the inner vault and collected those gems he chose for MC before. Before Kalim took more gems, MC stopped his hand.
"Kalim-senpai, this is too many." He took the gems from Kalim and put them back. "Now listen, it's no need to be a lot of heavy and big gems. Something simple like a bracelet or necklace."
Kalim stared at his lover for a while before picking up a small ruby pendant on a silver chain. "How about this, MC?"
"Sure, that's a beautiful necklace, Kalim-senpai." The younger male smiled.
"Then, can I put it on for you?" Kalim asked eagerly which MC just reply with a simple nod.
Kalim put the necklace on MC then took a step back, admiring the necklace on his neck. He smiled at the younger male.
"That looks good on you!"
MC chuckled. "Thanks, this is the best present I've ever received."
Kalim went to hug the younger male and kissed him on his cheek. "Haha! Glad you like it! I love you so much, Happy Birthday, MC!"
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Right after the birthday party, Jamil went to MC's room. Inside, he saw the younger male who already lying on his bed, exhausted.
"Tired?" Jamil asked while picking up the clothes on his way to MC. "At least, put these on the basket or something."
MC rolled on his bed. "I didn't expect a lot of people coming." He sat on his bed when he felt the corner of the bed dipped. "I thought you already left with Kalim-senpai."
Jamil turned to him. "Left without giving you a present? What kind of cruel man I am?"
Heard the 'present' word made MC's eyes lit up. "Ooh! I can't wait to see it."
Jamil stood up and went to the door. "Change your clothes first, I saw Ace throw a pie at you before."
After saying that, He left the room and waited for MC in front of Ramshackle dorm. Didn't wait too long, MC already showed up with his sleepwear.
"Why you wear that?" Jamil asked.
MC pouted. "Aw, come on now. This is comfy you know. Also, I already washed so I'm squicky clean!"
Jamil sighed then took MC's hand. He whistled and not long after a magic carpet showed up. Both of them sat on it and started their short 'walk'.
"So a date on a magic carpet? This is my present?" MC asked while hugging himself because of the night wind.
Jamil turned to the younger male. "A part of it."
"There's more?" He asked again, more enthusiastic than before which answered with a nod from Jamil.
Noticing the excitement, Jamil smirked. "So, you want your present now?"
MC nodded vigorously, made Jamil laugh a little. He took off his hoodie and put it on MC.
"That's your present. What a coincidence that you need it too right now." MC stared at him with disbelief. "What? Do you expect something more?"
MC turned away while huffed his cheeks like a child. "No, I'm not."
Jamil tried to hold his laugh. "You don't like it?"
MC shook his head but didn't say anything. He put the hood on his head, which made Jamil can't see through to his sulking face.
"I still have one more present for you," Jamil said. "Turn back to me."
MC glanced back at first then turned to him hesitantly. Right that moment, Jamil pulled MC by the hood for a kiss. It was a long lingering kiss, the one they never did before. Jamil pulled away and saw a very red face inside the hoodie. He can't help but smirk.
"Oh, can't handle a kiss?" He asked in a teasing manner, made MC blushed more.
MC pulled down the hoodie, felt embarrassed. "N-no!"
Jamil smirked at him. "Ok, then. If you say so." He pulled MC to lean on his side. "Happy Birthday, MC."
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insectbrandy56 · a day ago
Expect More Virtual House Calls Out Of Your Doctor, Due To Telehealth Revolution
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Secretly Spies-Chapter 3
I woke up to the sound of starting engines outside the academy. I quickly looked at the time knowing that it was too early even for me.
I was shocked to see that it was 2 am, the light of my phone nearly blinding me.
I stretched forwards to pull the curtains away from the door by my bed. My room looked to the outside of the facility right where the fountains spat water into the sky. Droplets of water had condensed on my water and shone in the light of my night lamp.
A single aeroplane drove right past my window almost shattering it. Of course, the glasses were enforced with an extra thickness just for occasions like these. I watched with sleepy eyes and the jet turned around and flew above the fountains. My shuddering windows provided little vision as I tried my best to read the name engraved on the side of the jet.
But... There was no name to be seen. At least not with the Miraculous logo on it.
The yin and the yang.
Almost every jet here had the Miraculous logo unless...
"It's a private jet!"
I jumped down from my bed and rushed into the washroom. Putting my hair up in a messy bun, I tried to get ready as soon as possible. I could hear my phone ringing beside my bed but I had no time to answer it. I was already too late.
Master Fu should have informed me of the change of plan!
I had stayed till late last night, going through all the papers that I had been given. Sure there wasn't much in them, but I always take my time before heading out on a mission.
Not going to lie, but I had stayed up most of the night thinking about the consequences of using my real name could have. I had worked so hard on keeping my name a secret on all the other missions I had embarked on and I knew that no one could possibly know me as 'Marinette Dupain-Cheng'. Master Fu had assured me of that much but I still wasn't willing to take any risks.
I knew that many things could go terribly wrong but I tried my best to think positive. So I thought of all the new people I'd meet, all the friends I'd make and... All the lies I'd have to keep from them...
Keep it together, Marinette.
I was distracted by my phone ringing for the third time. But I had no time to answer it. It was probably Master Fu or Tikki since Plagg never bothers to get ready for a mission on time. I was on the verge of having a panic attack when I remembered that I hadn't collected my weapons from the closet.
Putting on the shirt that was crumpled in my hands, I ran to the closet ready to yank the handle off the door if Serene didn't give me access. She must have sensed my waves of panic rolling off of me because she opened the doors without even asking for verification.
"Thank you, Serene!" I shouted running into the closet to grab the duffel bag with my spy suit and weapons.
I passed the tall mirror as I walked out and did a quick overview of what I was wearing. A loose T-shirt with a beautiful flower print was tucked into a pair of denim shorts that ended at my thighs. A black choker clung to the skin of my neck while the silver bow extending from the choker rested in between my collar bones. My hair was still in the messy bun and I readjusted it so that most of the stray strands of hair touched the nape of my neck. I turned around facing my back to the mirror, my black ankle boots making clicking noises on the tiled floor.  
Satisfied with the look, I walked back into my room while Serene shut the doors of the closet behind me. Two suitcases were lined up next to each other by the door and I placed the duffel bag right next to them.
I had taken my phone out of the suitcase to keep an alarm last night and the sound of the alarm disturbing the not-so-tranquil nature of my room made me wish that I had stuffed it deep inside my bag along with my other belongings.
I rushed to my bed careful not to touch the soft covers that were laid out on the bed. Just one brush of those cotton sheets and I'd curl into a ball and sleep through the rest of the night.
I have to resist the temptation!
I picked up my phone and switched the alarm off. I looked at the caller IDs on all my missed calls and it was Master Fu. Finally having time to relax, I called him wanting to know what all this was about.
Master Fu picked up on the first ring and sighed.
"Marinette?" Master Fu asked me.
"Yes, Master?" I asked but my door flung open and standing outside were Master Fu and Tikki.
"Oh," I said ending the call and stuffing the phone in my back pocket.
"I see you're already dressed and ready to go. We thought we might have to drag you to the plane." Said Tikki brushing her bangs away from her eyes.
"Are we taking off now? Why the sudden change in plans?" I asked checking the time.
3 am?
"We just got notified by the head office that somebody had been brutally murdered in Paris. The longer we wait, the more dangerous this mission is going to be. You're going to have to move now. The flight to Paris will take about ten hours even if you use a private jet." Said Master Fu taking a closer look at my duffel bag.
"Are those your weapons?" Master Fu asked.
I nodded and watched Master Fu bend down to open the bag. I saw him throw a small chip into the bag which looked oddly like a piece of metal designed with silver lines and shapes.
"That's a concealer. It's going to screen all your weapons and let you pass through the airport security in Paris without attracting unwanted attention." Explained Master Fu standing up and folding his arms behind his back.
I nodded knowing that his plans of smuggling me into Paris were not going to fail.
"Anyway! It's time to leave." Said Tikki adjusting that mini skirt she was wearing.
She looked so cute in the red top tucked into her black mini skirt. Her long hair was neatly curled ending right at her shoulders. A red bracelet adorned her wrist and her over-the-knee black boots completed her look while she nervously fidgeted with her skirt.
"Oh! One more thing!" Said Master Fu reaching into the bag he was carrying with him.
I followed the movements of his hand as it moved inside the bag. Finally, he pulled his hand out and sitting on his palm was a white box with a logo I knew very well.
"Another Apple iPhone?" I asked gaping at the Apple logo on the side of the box.
"The newest one." Said Master Fu smirking at me.
"It is even legal to own this many phones? And is that model even released?" I asked knowing what Master Fu had done the last time.
He had sent an agent into the Apple headquarters and had smuggled the newest iPhone. With permission, of course.
I accepted the phone and gave my phone to him. I knew why he did this every time I went on a mission. My phone had all the details about the Miraculous company and the head office. If I took it out on a mission with me and accidentally lost it, the whole spy agency was doomed.
"Thank You. But please tell me if this is legally launched." I said turning the box in my hands.
"In a few months, it will be." Smiled Master Fu.
Of course. I should have known.
"But I can assure you that it won't be a problem. Plagg's cover is actually an Apple company agent." Said Master Fu.
Plagg? An Apple company agent? This is going to be fun.
"Your jet is waiting, Agent Marinette." Said a security guard who had appeared by the door.
I sighed and looked at my room one last time as I always did. But my eyes landed on Master Fu who was watching me thoughtfully. I forced back the tears threatening to spill as I walked over to him and hugged him.
"Come back safe, okay? I'm going to miss you, my child." Said Papa Fu returning my hug.
"I will," I promised.
Master Fu patted my back and gently released himself from the hug.
I sighed knowing that it was time to leave. I turned in a full circle eyeballing every drawer knowing that they were empty.
"Okay. I'm ready." I said adjusting my T-shirt.
Tikki nodded and walked out the door while three men dressed in security uniforms walked in and collected my luggage.
I nodded once to Master Fu and followed Tikki out the door into the dimly lit hallways. I could hear doors creaking behind me and I turned around to see all my hallmates poking their head out of their rooms. I smirked at them and gave them a two-fingered salute adding a wink at the end.
I reached the lobby and waited for my bags to arrive.
"Hey, kid." Said a voice behind me.
"Oh hey, Plagg," I said not turning around.
"I see that you are still stressed about using your full name." Said Plagg folding his arms and standing beside me.
I nodded and sighed.
But there was no way I could change it now. I knew that all my folders that were to be submitted to the school already had my full name on them.
"Alright! All done." Said Tikki appearing behind Plagg and me.
The private jet landed outside the lobby sliding on the tarmac to a stop, waiting for us to board. I walked towards the exit, the sliding doors opening to let us leave. As soon as my foot left the warmth of my home, I instantly regretted not putting on a jacket before leaving. The cold early morning air chilled me to my bones making the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I shuddered and rubbed my arms while walking towards the plane.
I watched as our bags were loaded into the plane while another security guard stood to the side of the plane awaiting our arrival.
"Good morning, agent." Greeted the man taking my hand and helping me up onto the flight of stairs.
"Thank you and good morning to you too," I said.
I followed another security guard to my seat while Tikki and Plagg got onboard. Soon, our luggage joined us and we were off. I watched as Master Fu waved at us from his office, his eyes crinkling at the corners. We passed over the fountains and out of the Miraculous company.
"Breakfast?" A flight attendant asked, bringing over three trays of packaged meals.
I nodded and accepted the package but kept it beside me until I got hungry. Tikki did the same while Plagg dug into his meal.
"Pancakes?" I asked looking at Plagg who was hurriedly swallowing three pancakes at once.
"I would have preferred Cheese over this. But I'm not complaining." Said Plagg with a mouthful of pancakes.
Tikki slapped Plagg's arm saying that it was rude to talk while eating. Plagg shrugged taking another bite of his pancakes and rubbing his arm.
"Do you know where we're going to stay when we get to Paris?" I asked still deprived of the information.
Tikki shrugged and pulled out her phone.
"All I know is we're going to be living near the school. Master Fu said that everything will be ready when we get there." Said Tikki pulling her phone out and typing something on it.
My own phone was tucked in my suitcase. I hadn't even had enough time to switch it.
I turned my head and caught the reflection of my face on the windows. The black earrings sitting on my ears shone in the light of the lights in the jet. The Ladybug earrings in their dormant form were plain black studs on my ears.
My earrings hadn't always been built like this. They had been plain red and black earrings that had been very precious to me. They still are. My mom had gifted them just before...
Stop! It's going to hurt.
These earrings were the last thing left to remind me of my wonderful parents. When Master Fu had found me abandoned on the streets of Paris, I had been holding onto these jewels crying for my parents.
As the years went by, Master Fu and Tikki had stayed up all night modifying my earrings into an advanced spy suit. They had been under testing which was why Master Fu had kept them a secret from the head office.
Master Fu had been looking up at the sky one day when a jet with the miraculous logo and passed overhead. So, he had taken it upon himself to name my Ladybug jewels as the Miraculous.
I had been thrilled to try them out and had decided to take my new spy suit out for a spin. And that had been the origin of Ladybug.
"-fast? Marinette?" Someone called slightly poking my arm.
"Huh? What?" I asked turning to Tikki who was standing beside me.
"I asked whether you aren't going to have your breakfast. You look pale." Said Tikki placing her thumb under my left eye and dragging the skin down.
"You don't seem to be sick. Your eyes, however, are reddened. Little to no sleep last night?" Tikki asked observing the drowsy look on my face.
I nodded and leaned my head against the cool window suddenly losing my appetite. Usually, I was very excited to go on a mission. I would have everything organised and preplanned in case something went wrong. But this time around, I was nervous. Almost anxious enough to jump off the jet and head back home.
What is this? You used to be so confident, Marinette.
Yes. I used to be. But thinking of all the possibilities of ending up in Paris with my real name and identity, I just couldn't concentrate on anything else.
I mean, what are the chances that I'd end up in the place I was born? The one place that I had sworn to never visit. It was all so ironic.
And before I knew it, I was dozing off with something heavy laid out on my body.
"Wake up, Marinette. It's almost lunchtime." I heard Tikki say as she shook me awake.
"I'm up, I'm up," I grumbled, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
"You missed your breakfast! At least have your lunch!" Tikki said lifting the heavy blanket off of me and folding it neatly.
"Okay, mom," I said picking up the tray that had been left on the seat beside me.
I dug into the food, my stomach rumbling with every bite I took. I took a quick look at the time.
"11 am?" I asked looking at Tikki.
"Only one more hour till we land in Paris. You were out for a good seven or eight hours!" Tikki giggled while I looked around for Plagg.
"Where's Plagg? Did he jump out? Is he still alive?" I asked wanting to add a little bit of humour to our conversation.
"Right here, no, very much. Thank you for asking." Said Plagg answering my questions and appearing behind me.
I giggled and almost choked on my food. Plagg let out a loud laugh while Tikki patted my back.
"We'll be landing in Paris in a few minutes." Informed the pilot through the speakers.
I wrapped my lunch and dusted my shorts and T-shirt. I decided to take a look down at the scenery below as we passed over the beautiful city.
I felt a hand on my shoulder as Tikki gave it a small squeeze knowing that I was nervous. I sighed and leaned my forehead on the cool glass. I heard a soft sigh behind me and I turned around.
Tikki was standing beside Plagg, her head leaned against Plagg's elbow. Plagg was towering above Tikki, his arms crossed. Plagg's black jeans ripped at his knees and his black T-shirt was an odd sight inside the white interior of the jet. I noticed the stray strands of hair standing up from the rest of his combed hair.
"You're staring." Said Plagg throwing in a smirk.
I smiled and looked away.
I guess I was just trying to distract myself from what was going to happen once I landed in Paris.
I felt a hand on my shoulder. I closed my eyes knowing that it was too late to turn back now.
You got this, Marinette. How hard can this be?
Within a few minutes, I found myself standing behind Tikki as she passed the security checkpoint. I knew that I'd make it out with no problem but I was still concerned for my duffel bag with weapons. When carrying a bag full of weapons considered to be illegal in the hands of a normal civilian in Paris, it's normal to feel anxious. Even with Master Fu's foolproof plans, I didn't let go of the breath that I was holding until the duffel bag passed through without catching attention.
I was soon towed into a sleek black car with Plagg in the driver's seat and Tikki riding shotgun. Our bags were safely stacked on top of each other in the trunk. I watched as the trees rushed past us, the clouds in the blue sky above shifting ever so slowly.
The city was crowded with people but there was no traffic on the roads. The buildings with their tall chimneys and the crowded parks reminded me of New York. I sighed loudly while Plagg turned down the music. A few more minutes passed in complete silence until Tikki decided to lighten the mood.
"How do yo-"
"Wait!" I cried making Plagg hit the brakes which sent me crashing into the front seat.
"What?" Plagg asked looking around, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.
"That... Bakery. Seems so... Familiar." I said feeling a slight pounding in my head.
"Oh." Said Tikki looking around but sighed and nodded.
Plagg parked the car and waited for Tikki and me to get out. He joined us as we stood near the park ready to cross the street to the bakery.
"Are you sure?" Tikki asked.
"Yes." I replied looking at the glass doors of the pastry shop where two letters 'T' and 'S' written in gold painted the front door.
Why wouldn't I? It's just a normal bakery that seems to be too familiar.
Tikki and Plagg looked at each other and nodded. We crossed the street and stopped right outside the bakery. The neighbourhood was quiet with all the children in the school right next to the bakery.
My school from tomorrow.
Tikki and Plagg seemed too nervous to head inside so I did the honours. I took a step forward and placed my hand on the cool glass door. And I pushed.
A bell rang when the door opened wide enough for me to enter and a wave of nausea hit me. The sweet scent of freshly baked croissants hit me while I struggled to stay on my feet.
"Marinette?" Someone asked.
That voice...
I crumpled to my knees as my vision was taken over by darkness.
The last thing I felt was hitting my head against something hard before I lost consciousness.
"Mama!" I had called walking into the bakery.
The bell had jingled in the bakery when someone had walked inside while the sweet scent of the freshly baked croissants had hit me. It had been my favourite smell because it had reminded me of home... Of mom and dad.
My mother had stood in our kitchen taking the pastries out of the oven.
"Do you want to try some, honey?" She had asked.
Her hair, identical to mine had been trimmed yesterday and she had never looked prettier.
"Where's papa?" I had asked as I had watched my mom place the pastries in a bowl.
"He went out to get some things." My mother had said offering me the bowl.
I had picked it up with my small hands while mom had laid out a napkin on my lap.
"Where's my little birthday angel?"
I had run to my father's arms dropping my napkin.
"There she is!"
My father had hugged me, his giant arms scooping me up.
"We've got something for you, sweetie." Mom had said taking a small box out of her pocket.
I had clapped my hands while hugging my father. My mother had placed the box lightly in my arms while I had stared at it with big eyes.
On the top were two letters, written in gold.
"Tom and Sabine." I had said tracing the two letters with my index finger.
I had let mom open the box for me.
A small paper had resided inside, its edges dotted with tiny flowers.
"From mom and dad. To Marinette." I had heard my dad read.
My mom had lifted the paper off and inside, two earrings coloured red with black dots had been resting.
I had felt tears spill from my eyes as my mouth had formed into a large grin.
"Thank you, mommy, daddy!" I had cried hugging them both.
"Happy birthday, Marinette!" My mom had said clapping while my dad had twirled me in the air.
I had had little to no sleep the night before. I had been spying on mom and dad talking about my presents while unwrapping a big number  '3' for the cake.
I had let mommy put the earrings through the piercings while my dad had sung me his favourite song.
The day had ended quickly and my mom had been tucking me into bed when a loud noise had startled us.
"Stay here, sweetie. Daddy must have dropped another glass." My mom had said as she had turned my night light off.
I had laid in my bed until a white smoke had started to fill the room. I had cried out after finding out that I was unable to breathe. But nobody had come to save me.
"Mommy?! Daddy?!" I had screamed wrapping myself in my blankets.
A small groan had interrupted my calls for my mom and dad. A heavy thump had come from downstairs close to my room. I had done the only thing possible.
I had climbed onto my balcony through my glass trap door.
"Help! Mommy!" I had cried, my tiny voice soon drowned out by the heavy traffic below.
Puffs of white smoke had escaped the house and had clouded the roads grabbing the attention of the people below. They had screamed when they had seen me on my balcony, fighting to breathe still calling for my parents.
But it had been too late.
The house had gone up in flames, exploding below me and throwing me into the air. I had been thrown from the balcony onto the hard ground. The pain had been immense. So much that I had almost blacked out at the moment but something had held me grounded at the moment. Red had obscured my vision while my whole body had gone numb with the only feeling being the stones on the lobes of my ears.
The last thing I had seen before my vision had darkened was the brown sandals of someone.
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hutaoexp · 2 days ago
" it takes one to know one. "
- a platonic bennett x (gn) reader
my first piece of writing :0 i hope anyone who might stumble across it enjoys my writing! i don't normally write on tumblr, but you only live once, so why not? ㅇㅅㅇ
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bennett was a lonely boy, it was no secret. he had the worst of luck and that (was what he had belived) was what pushed many people away. his only real friend was razor, a boy raised by the wolves back in wolvendom. bennett never actually thought he would make more friends, until he met the kid in the tree.
bennett was on a solo adventure in windrise, gathering everything a few flowers here and there. it was boring to adventure alone. after walking around in the hot sun, he found himself leaning back under the large tree near the statue known well by mondstat residents. he dug in his pocket for an apple he had picked up during his walk, but it wasnt there anymore. "awh, dang it! its just my luck to drop my apple somewhere..." he sighed out, going quiet before adding a " lack of luck."
he sat himself down harshly, looking around at the open plains in front of him. birds flew freely, butterflies fluttered, and... pinecones fell? as bennett squinted closer, he felt the weight of a pinecone hit him on the head, making him sigh. but then...someone fell.
the tree branches shook, the leaves ruffling as well as someone fell out of the tree at a quick speed. bennett gasped, not sure what to do. as the person finished their fall and landed with a harsh 'thud' onto their back, bennett got up and rushed over to them. "you fell so quickly! are you alright?"
the person on the ground slowly opened their eyes, which had been forcibly shut during the fall. they looked up at bennett, immediately flashing him a grin. bennett felt something inside him warm up. they were so adorable! covered in bandaids, missing a tooth, and seemingly clumsy? bennett couldn't help but feel intrigued.
"oh, me? im fine! that fall is nothing compared to what else i've experienced!" they laughed loudly. "i'm [name], a solo adventurer. you are?" they introduced themselves to the white haired boy.
"ah- im bennett!" he returned the smile sheepishly. "leader of 'benny's adventure team'!" [name] had simply laughed at his antics. "an adventure team, huh? sounds pretty awesome."
bennett's face heated up. was this truly love at first sight for him? or was it his loneliness getting to him? he didn't care, he was focused on the lovely person in front of him! or..below him.
"yeah i'd say so! can i ask about why you're in a tree, though?" bennett stepped back so [name] could get up. he wanted to offer a hand, but he was afraid his bad luck would result in him tipping over and falling on top of them.
"oh, i was collecting bird eggs for my mother..." the smile faded as they moved a hand to their bag which was sprawled out beside them. a yellow liquid seeped through the soft leather, making [name] visibly frown.
"ah, they cracked. well, my luck has never been on my side, so maybe i should have expected it." that line was what caused bennetts outburst.
"you have bad luck too?! and you're a solo adventurer? its like..we're the same person!" he cheered excitedly, making you giggle.
"i suppose. so..bennett, was it? you live here in mondstat?" [name] got up, picking up their bag and heading down to the small pond nearby to wash their bag out.
"i do!" bennett said, skipping along with them, grinning like an idiot. "good, because i like you! i live here too, so maybe i can adventure with you?"
bennetts heart leapt out of his chest, excitement once again taking over his body as he vigorously nodded. "of course! id love to adventure with you!"
[name] looked at him in the eye, bending over and blindly dragging their bag around in the cool water. "alright, so im officially part of the adventure team?"
bennett nodded. "yep! the best adventure team in teyvat! ..or...thats the plan." he sighed, mindlessly taking a few steps forward before slipping in the mud surrounding the pond.
he fell into the water, not in it too deep, but enough to drench his clothes. [name] laughed, dropping their bag to go help bennett up, before slipping themselves and landing right beside him.
they both laughed happily, bennetts doubts about the future of his adventure team slipping away as [name] replaced those feelings with hope.
"this is the start of something amazing, bennett. i truly feel it."
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novajeon · 2 days ago
Task completed : Jeon Jungkook ❩
↪︎ 18+
↪︎ genre - smut!
↪︎ warnings - spanking, dom! jk, reader just wanted Jungkook to come home to a clean house, doggy, unprotected sex, (don’t do it unless you’re planning on having babies!) brief fingering, (Jungkook kind of compares reader to a dishwasher but in the hottest way possible)
↪︎ note: story not depicted to inflict harm, sexualize, or objectify BTS nor the member in the story. This Drabble is based solely off my imagination and is not based off a true story.
✉︎ side note: practice safe sex ✍︎
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It was a task you do every night. Something you didn’t know turned him on so much or that would lead to him having you on your hands and knees as he aggressively had his way with you. “You think it’s funny?” Jungkook asked, voice raspy enough to have his voice shaking above you. His voice now seems a bit annoyed as his hands grip your hips tighter and tighter. “Didn’t know you’d react this way, kook… m’sorry,” you whined.
He chuckled, shaking his head as he slaps your ass before kneading it in his palm. No matter how many times you said sorry, it was just never enough. “You didn’t know I’d react this way? Baby, don’t you know me? S-shit princess- fuck, if you wanted something all you had to do was ask,” and you knew that. But sometimes it was better to ask forgiveness than permission. “I-I was just being good and c-cleaning for you. Wanted you to come home to a clean house like you deserve,”
Jungkook groans at your words, loving the fact he lucked out by having such an amazing woman by his side. “That’s why your little ass was bent over in my sweater while wearing my favorite black lace thong.. huh?” His head tilts to the side as he cocks an eyebrow down at the sinful scene below him. Meanwhile, his hands ran up your sides, sending chills up your spine as his cock slid between your drenching walls. “I-I love your fucking sweater so much, Kook.. almost as much as you,” you respond, hearing him groan as your orgasm creeps up on you. “F-fuck love you too, Doll!” His tattooed hand ran up your back as his hips stilled inside you and his free hand rubbed circles around your clit.
“I can’t even be mad at you for making me so hard… making me want to fuck you like an animal for fucking cleaning.” Jungkook said. You tilt your head to the side getting a front row seat to his fucked out face, knitted eyebrows, and clenched jaw as he fucked into you. “Oh, f-fuck I’m, c-can I c-“ your sentence wasn’t able to be finished as Jungkook responds with a smack on your ass and says, “Do it baby, fucking cum for me.” He knew your body too well to know all the signs.
Those were the only words you needed to let loose around him. Jungkook wasn’t too far behind after circling his hips a couple more times and releasing deep inside you. He lets out one last groan as he watches his cock slip out from inside of you as well as the sticky mixture that swam deep inside you. Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to run his fingers up your entrance to collect the cum that had dripped out of you to stuff it back inside you with a harsh pump of his fingers. “God you’re so fucking cute,” he groaned, letting out a giggle followed by his famous bunny smile that you loved so much.
Once he releases his fingers, he leads them up to your mouth tapping his two middle fingers on your lips. “Open,” he demanded, you obeyed, moaning around the digits, admiring the salty taste he provides you every time. “Mmm,” you moaned as his fingers went deeper, Jungkook smiles, patting your cheeks as he clenched his left hand around your throat. “Just like the dishwasher, baby, clean my fingers like the good lil girl you are.”
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fandomout · 2 days ago
After Pietro comes back
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Imagine Wanda using you to bring Pietro back
Not having many options or ideas, Wanda heads to the next country over to use her persuasions to find a penthouse suite in a decent hotel. Having found a place to put yours's and Pietro's bodies, she had quickly taken over a nurses mind to hook IV’s to both you and Pietro. The nurse had told her a bit about care for both of you, and Wanda internalized it. When the nurse left, Wanda was quick to get Pietro changed out of his funeral clothes and cleaned up. She felt the warmth radiating off of his skin and sighed in relief. Her hand rubbed his cheek a bit. Then, she gave him a small kiss on the head. Although happy, she looked looked out into the hall and was reminded of your presence, which made her grasp at her clothes and screamed out, "What am I gonna do?" She pulled at her hair and bit her lip until it bled. She paced, uselessly so, before she ran off to check on your body.
As soon as Wanda walked into the room, she noticed how weak you looked. Your skin was paler than before, and skin sunken in. Wanda raised a shaking hand to her mouth after noticing all the dirt that seeped into your skin, hair, nails, and clothes. Looking at your state. she register that she'd taken you away from a home and life without any regards to you or anyone who might care for you, which caused her to cry and mumble apologies towards you. Wanda carefully cleaned your skin trying to give you the best privacy she could, and she got a bunch of clothes for you when you'd hopefully wake. Realizing the planning and care for you, a thought feel on her quickly on what she'd have to do, so she raised her hands to your head before casting the words, “You will not remember our 1st encounter, instead remember we met on friendly terms, and you won’t give up too much information on your life before now. You and I are allies...friends. You stay here and take care of Pietro.” Having finished up, Wanda leaves the room to set things up for when they would wake.
Throughout the week of Wanda preparing and caring, Pietro began to hear murmurs and distant noises here and there. While he couldn’t make sense of any of it, he seemed to be getting closer and closer. Finally, his heart awoke like a jackhammer. He woke up to reveal his first sensations to come from the closed door to his room as it was his first thing insight after he could only remember speeding toward Hawkeye and an innocent child to save them. His first noise? First noise was the THUD of his head hitting against the door from speeding straight ahead, which was followed by falling back onto the ground. Pain shot all over. His body was stiff, and it also began to cramp all over. He moved his arm to lay on his head and stayed that way as he hoped the pain everywhere would start to subside. After a moment, Wanda barges into the room and lands on her knees. He can only see her, which caused him to stare. She searched his face frantically and asked, "Are you okay?" While she awaits his response, tears brimming her eyes as she hopes there was nothing wrong with him.
"I-I…" His voice was hoarse. Wanda floats a glass of water to them, and she has him drink. He drank it quickly before meeting Wanda's eyes again with a genuine smile and saying, “I just banged my head on the door. So, no, I'm not okay." Wanda laughs heartily at the comment and hugs onto her brother. Her heart begins to throb when he hugs back strongly. She laughs in delight that he seems okay. When they pull away, he looks around the room for a decent few seconds before commenting, “I’m guessing we are not fighting Ultron, and we are not in Sokovia.” Wanda nods hesitantly at him because she still hasn’t decided on what to tell him just yet. Pietro hums in confusion and collects his thoughts in order to add, “The last thing I remember was running toward Hawkeye and some kid. Are they okay?” In a light hearted tone, Wanda answers, “Everything is okay. Everything and everyone is fine.”
“ am I here? Where is here?”
“Pietro, we’re in a hotel...resting because you needed recovery."
"Recovery?" He instantly reached for his chest. “I got shot, right?”
"You-" Wanda racks her brain for the words to utter and decides to say, "You got shot...badly…" She grabs at his clothes roughly in a desperate manner and mentions, “I lost y-I thought I lost you.” He holds her hand to comfort her and states, "Well, I am okay. It’ll take more than bullets to get rid of me." He nuzzles his head into her shoulder and adds, “You can't get rid of me.” She really hopes that’s true and dwells on it; however, he stands up feeling painless, so he helps lift Wanda to her feet. She’s surprised at the strength and that causes her to smile widely. “There’s a smile. Now, you don’t look so ugly.”
"How long have I been resting?"
"Months…" The response makes his eyes go wide; therefore, he begins to express his concerns with that until Wanda cuts him off to admit, "I found someone to heal you. It worked."
"If it's as bad as you say, it must have been some healer."
"Can't argue with that." Wanda quirks her head and adds a smile. Suddenly, Pietro’s stomach growls aggressively, which leads him to hold onto his abdomen. He states, "I'm very hungry and thirsty." The next thing Wanda knows is he’s speeding downstairs to chug a big gallon of water. Wanda makes her way downstairs quickly to see him searching the fridge and stating the word, "Empty." However, Wanda quickly hands him the solution as she tosses the service phone his way, and he catches it.
"Order whatever you want." She tells him, and he replies, "Don't have to tell me twice."
When the food arrives he basically bounces around and eats rapidly. When he finishes, he burps loudly and lays on the couch. Wanda watches him happily as he holds his stomach content.
"I'm happy." Wanda states. Piero nods in understanding before asking, "What happens now? Back to the team?"
"Pietro you just woke up…"
"I feel better than ever, honestly."
"Let's rest a bit more. We'll have to see-" Wanda lies quickly. "What your doctor has to say."
"The same one who healed you. They-they are here...don't go look- '' He darts off to search the penthouse top to bottom until finding you in a room in an unconscious state. At the predictability of the action, Wanda rolls her eyes, but she follows him. He notices the dark circles on your eyes, and the unnatural skinniness of your body.
“Are they okay?” He asks Wanda and gestures to your body.
“Yeah. Yeah. Healing you fully just took a lot out of them. They’ll wake up eventually.”
“Where did you find them again? Or how?”
“Used the shield system...They have files on other people like us. I found a video of them.” She shrugged, “Here we are.”
“They were just willing to help complete strangers?”
“Yeah. They are really kind-"
"They healed me even though they had no idea who I was? I mean did they?
"All they knew was that you were my brother."
"They even became my friend after some time, so they were even more willing since they saw how sad I was over how-how hurt you were...I was so broken up about it..." Wanda trails off as the lies keep running off her lips.
"I guess I owe them a lot then." He focuses on your features. "They took care of me but taking care of you...I can't thank them enough. Now, I can't wait to meet them. What’s our savior's name?" He smiles warmly at your frame.
“Oh it’s, Y/N...” Worry struck Wanda, but she didn't let it show, instead playing it off and asking, "Why don't we watch sitcoms like we used to?" Wanda takes his arm leading him away from you. She makes the show appear on screen, and they lay on the couch cozy. As Wanda finally finds some real kind of peace, she ends up falling asleep.
Feeling completely awake, Pietro gets up and looks around the place a little more. He takes in the view he could from the windows. If he was honest with himself, he just wanted to head to that one room in the house, which he inevitably ended up at. He couldn’t help himself but to check in on you again. He sits down in the chair that’s in front of you. He reaches out to you; however, he stops when he realizes that might not be the best thing. He puts his hands together and speaks out, “Hi, I’m Pietro…” He waves and instantly regrets it. He rolls his eyes at himself and continues in his embarrassed state, “You probably already know my name, and you probably can't hear me either….Anyway, I introduce myself to you now and look forward to introducing myself again when you wake up...I may only been awake for about a few hours now, but...I really have to thank you. Taking care of Wanda. It’s really my only concern. Luckily, you took care of that...Took care of me...Thank you honestly...” He thought he saw you shiver, so he pulled the cover up a bit more and exited the room. He makes his way to the couch and lays down and allows himself to sleep.
Throughout the next few days, Pietro and Wanda find the time to visit your room, but you wouldn't know until later. Although there’s nothing really to see in the coma of your void, you can hear unfamiliar voices speak to you from time to time. Day by day there would be at least one new couple sentences you’d catch. A deep voice with an accent rings out, “Another day of waiting. Wanda and I didn't do much. She seems to not want to let me out of the house. Not to mention she’s too worried. I feel completely new. I decided to run out in the town today. I’ve never run so fast. It felt great up until Wanda hunted me down and dragged me back here.”
A woman's voice, “Pietro seems to be doing good. You healed him completely. He seems better than ever...How long will it last?” A sigh. “You can’t answer the questions, can you?” A distant later, the same voice, “What am I going to do? What if you don’t wake up? I’d have killed you...I’m so sorry.”
A man’s voice, “I’m starting to think something’s going on with Wanda. It’s like she’s not telling me something...She’s really worrying me.”
A woman's voice, “It seems Pietro thinks something is going on with me. Ugh, he can feel it. Just me and him, how could I hide from him? Vision tried to get in contact with me. It seemed like Pietro might have heard, but I don’t know...When are you waking up? It’s getting dangerous for both of us…”
After hearing plenty of single exchanges for 2 and a half weeks, you loud and clear the yelling of both of the voices before you open your eyes. You can make out two figures in front of you; however, you were sure you didn’t know where you were. You start to move instinctively. While moving made you cramp like crazy, you clenched your jaw and fists to fight the noises of pain. In the process, you lean too much to one side of the bed. Therefore, you lose your balance, but you can’t react to realize you’re falling. Wanda and Pietro stop their words and actions as they bring their attention to you on the ground. They both give each other a look. They both almost want to continue to argue, but they register that you are awake and on the ground and both rush to your side.
Hope your day got better
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Peter has had really bad claustrophobia ever since the building fell on him but you’ve always wanted to build a blanket Fort with him.
So for your birthday he decides to surprise you with a Fort but when you get back to the compound you find peter sitting in front of the Fort with tears streaming down his face cuz he’s been holding off so many panic attacks.
So you pull him into the Fort with you but he starts breathing really fast so you lay him on your chest and play with his hair which seems to work cuz he ends up falling asleep
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I'm using your shirt as a pillow case ⇒ PETER PARKER x READER
Summary: Being in blanket forts can be hard when you throw in a bucket of trauma and PTSD.
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A/N: Haven't posted in two weeks because I've been so caught up in pride month art (@inspired-by-my-insecurities) but I didn't want to leave you guys high and dry so I thought I'd write up some good old angst.
Also changed the prompt a teeny tiny bit but it's basically the same thing. 😏🤏✍
Title inspired from Jenny (I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship) by Studio Killers ⇒ Fic not related to song
Warning: Claustrophobia. Panic Attacks. Hurt/Comfort. Trauma. PTSD. Small tiny mention of Bi!Reader. Swearing. Self-Inflicted Pain/Self Harm?
Word Count: 1.9k
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Peter stared at the collection of blankets and pillows he'd collected from around the tower, the pile placed strategically in the middle of the lounge where he knew no one would visit during the day. Taking a deep breath in, he let the chilly air conditioned air whirl around his lungs before slowly breathing out. Cracking his fingers dramatically, he tilted his side to side before plopping himself onto the bright pink Disney pillow which he'd stole- borrowed from Morgan's play room.
Making a face, he tried to roughly plan out how this was going to work. If he threw the Iron Man blanket over the corner of the sofa and used the lamp as a weight, it could possibly work as a makeshift roof. Starting to move, he placed all the pillows into the shape of a crescent moon on the floor, the few extra falling randomly in the center. Grabbing a thick knit gray throw, he leaned over and placed it on the floor as a rug.
Puzzled on what to do next, he scrunched up his nose before rubbing his face with his hands and sighing. He'd helped Mr. Stark create multiple pieces of advanced tech that the Avengers used on missions everyday, he should be able to build a fucking fort. And plus, this was for you. On your birthday. He could do this. Probably. Hopefully.
It was 2 hours later that Peter found himself with something that vaguely looked like one of those blanket houses he'd seen on your Pinterest mood board. Turning around and snatching the fairy lights he'd brought earlier off the pool table, he fiddled with the batteries before throwing them gently over the unstable structure and carefully adjusting the tiny LEDs so they looked, as you often put it, "artfully messy."
Leaning back, he crossed his arms and gazed proudly at his creation. It didn't look nearly as good as the one online but it wasn't his fault that the tower didn't have 15 unnaturally large beige wool blankets that were all slightly darker or lighter than another so that it fit together into an aesthetically fancy teepee.
Checking the clock on the far wall across from him, he huffed as he realized he still had half an hour to waste before you returned to the compound and back to him. You were currently out with your parents for a birthday lunch but you were heading back here for movies and dinner with the Avengers. Pouting, he glanced around the room, trying to find something that could occupy his attention but when his eyes returned to the fort, he reasoned that he should at least try it out first to make sure it was...good...and to see if he could handle it or not.
Softly pushing against the two hanging pieces of cloth, he slipped past the small sliver of entrance and tentatively sat down, eyes skipping through the shear designs on the blankets that were lit dimly in the golden glow of lights.
Leaning back so he was pressed against a Spider-Man pillow, he brought his knees up close and tucked his chin onto them, forcing himself to smile weakly in the barely lit darkness. He hated how quickly his heart had sank into the pit of his stomach. This was so so stupid. It wasn't even as if there was a lack of space, just that he was moderately closed off with 4 sides. Today wasn't supposed to go like this. Shit.
He didn't know why he thought he could do this. Shuddering out a laboured breath, he coughed to clear his quickly closing throat and threw his head back onto the couch cushion, blinking rapidly at the red and gold Iron Man mask printed onto fuzz. He was stronger than this. He had to be. He was Spider-Man.
Blinking again, he tilted his head down again and stared at the natural light leaking in. He could see outside, he knew that he could easily get out. But why did it feel like he was trapped? Like he couldn't get up? Like he couldn't get enough air into his lungs?
He hadn't realized that he was gasping until it was too late and it was past the point where he could calm himself down. He needed you. Hyperventilating, he rubbed his sweaty palms on the rough texture of his worn out faded jeans, plucking rapidly at the loose strings and not caring as certain parts scrunched up and tightened.
He tried to stare into the light, tried not to let his eyes close and let the foggy memories flashing in his head become clearer. Panting, he sobbed as that familiar desperation sunk into his bones, felt as if his insides had burned into bubbling ink. His eyes drooped shut on their own accord and it was almost as if he was there again, buried underneath rubble and fallen chunks of cement.
Alone. Helpless. Pathetic.
The weight of the building felt as if it was pressed into his back, crushing his lungs and slowly grinding his bones into dust as the Vulture flew away.
The eyelashes fluttering on his cheekbones tickled in the way of an annoyingly unscratchable itch and Peter harshly rubbed at his eyes with the back of his fist until he could see stars, spots of black covering his vision as he turned his gaze to stare at one of the tiny light bulbs.
Stupid. Dumb. Weak. Idiot.
The tears dripping down oily skin left traces and they tasted salty on his red bitten lips, flushed skin raw and aching from how roughly Peter had wiped his face. Tightening his fingers into fists, he tried to focus on the pinch of pain that came from his fingernails digging into the flesh of his palm, his body lurching forward for air as his brain replayed the scene in his head.
The moment of excruciating agony as he felt hundreds of tons of cement fall onto him, trapping him as if he was a mouse caught in an unfortunate trap. His back felt as if it was on fire and he could taste blood in his mouth from biting down so hard as it played over. And over. And over again.
Worthless. Impulsive. Idiot.
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You slipped past security and entered the elevator, fiddling with your keys and softly smiling to yourself as you leaned forward on your tippy toes before swaying back. You were excited to be back at the compound, especially after not having seen Peter all day, you'd missed cuddling and falling asleep with him last night. After softly murmuring to F.R.I.D.A.Y to take you to the floor your boyfriend was at, you impatiently picked at your nails, your movements only stopping when you felt it stop at the lounge.
Curiously stepping out, you peered around, eyes immediately catching on the brightly colored mismatched fort. You could feel your lips curl into a wide grin but before you could call for Pete and demand him for hugs and kisses, your eyebrows furrowed at the small sniffles coming from the structure. Gently, you walked across the rug covered floor, the laboured breathing causing you to move faster in panic. Nonono.
Thumbing off your bag, you chucked it at the bright yellow beanbag in the far corner of the room while simultaneously toeing of your shoes and kicking them away. Getting on your knees, you pushed past the pieces of cloth to look inside, the sight causing something inside you to shatter. You wished so desperately that you'd have gotten back sooner. Stupid of you to think that this wouldn't trigger him, you'd just thought that he was getting better, he'd been so good with closed doors when you'd studied over at his last week.
Peter was currently curled up, his body vibrating from him choking on his sobs, tears sliding off his eyelashes and soaking into the dark blue jeans where his cheek was tightly pressed against. You could already see the beginning of a bruise forming on his wrist from how strongly he was gripping his arms around himself and from where you kneeled, you could tell his neck and face were completely flushed.
You knew he was farther gone than normal, could pick up the signs that his mind was foggy and his eyes glossed over, not from crying but as if he was off somewhere distant. Wincing to yourself that you'd let it get this far, you softly crawled closer and wrapped your fingers around his curls.
Why hadn't F.R.I.D.A.Y notified you?
The movement was slow and languid as to not startle him too much but when you felt him jolt underneath you anyway, you whispered smoothly, voice unwavering and sturdy, "Hey bubba."
You only found a whimper in response before you felt his head slowly tuck itself into your neck. Locks of caramel sticking to the skin there, continuing your movements, you moved your fingers through the silken strands. When you felt a shift from him, you watched focused as he fumbled with his hands and made a motion with his hands to sign that he couldn't breathe.
"Come on," you said reassuringly, reaching over and sliding your fingers between his, "Try to follow me, yeah? I'm right here."
Taking an exaggerated breath in, you loudly breathed out, your mouth shaping into a circle and letting out a quiet whistling noise. Patiently waiting for him as he followed, a tiny smile turned the edge of your lips as you felt his frantic pants turn into soft huffs.
When he pulled away and ran a hand through his hair, exhaling in a shuddering long breath, you made eye contact with him for the first time all day and watching fondly as a he turned an even darker red and gave you a shy smile. Clearing his throat, he curled back into you and laid his head on your stomach, nosing at the fabric of your t-shirt before placing a small kiss and letting out a muffled, "Hi."
Giggling, you replied, resuming your stoking on his hair which you'd unintentionally stopped, "Hi, babe".
"Happy Birthday?", his voice echoed, raising at the end.
"Happy Birthday to me.", you muttered in response and before he could start apologizing, you leaned down and pressed a flurry of kisses onto wherever you could reach. Cherishing the undignified squawk that left this throat and laughing as he squealed in surprise. "Don't apologize." A small pause before singing, "I love you."
"Love you, too."
You both lay there for a while longer, time bending and shimmering past your toes but you couldn't seem to bring yourself to care, perfectly content being here for forever.
"How'd you sleep last night?"
The question broke the content silence and you jumped slightly at the noise, settling back down, you started on your automatic "great" but then paused. Not great, actually, you hadn't been in Peter's arms like usual since your parents had wanted to wake you up with breakfast in bed and family time before exchanging gifts. Trailing your fingers down his bicep, you grumbled back, "Umm...not bad? 2 hours, I think."
"Straight?", he asked, turning around so he could look at you properly.
"No. Bi.", you tried to keep your face as serious as possible which resulted in a wheeze from Peter. Once your gaze met his, it was all over and you both instantaneously melted into a pile of laughter.
After you caught your breath, you sighed, "Missed waking up with you."
"Yeah?", he said grinning, "Even though you got woken up with your favorite breakfast?"
You nodded. "Even though I got woken up with my favorite breakfast."
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Taglist: @hollandlover19 @8live-yourlife8 @its-a-leap-of-faith @hallecarey1
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ollieofthebeholder · 3 days ago
leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic
Read from the beginning on Tumblr || Also on AO3
Chapter 55: Assorted statements of the Magnus Institute archival staff and sundry associated, prior to their departure for Great Yarmouth.
Statement of Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London. Regarding the upcoming…operation. Fourth April, 2017. Recorded direct from subject. Statement begins.
I-I wanted to get some thoughts down before…well, everything. We all should, actually. I’ll—I suppose I’ll mention it to them.
(sigh) God, I hate that I can’t just record my thoughts these days. I have to make it a statement anymore.
It looks like we’re all set. We hammered out the last of our plans last night, went over it to make sure we have everything timed as precisely as we can. Myself, Daisy, Basira, Tim…we’re all going to be heading off to this House of Wax. Sneak in as best we can. Daisy will set the charges while the rest of us run interference, then we’ll set them off once the ritual begins. All the research, both ours and Gertrude’s, shows that this is our only chance. Anything we do before the ritual can be easily repaired. But once it’s underway, if we stop it, it will be centuries before the Stranger can try again.
Of course, we know damn well it won’t succeed. If we let it play out, it will collapse on its own. The trouble is, we don’t know what that collapse will look like. Would that be anything more than a simple delay, as far as they’re concerned? Would the Stranger simply try again, in a year, two years, five years? Even if we destroy Nikola Orsinov—“the Dancer,” Gertrude called her—surely she can be rebuilt easily enough. And all the other players…no. It’s too great a risk to simply let it fold in on itself. The Stranger has been collecting skins for ten years. We owe it to them to put what’s left of them to rest.
Daisy’s made it clear that she thinks her best chance is to go in alone, and honestly, I struggle to disagree. But I have to go. Not because Elias is making me, or because I feel compelled to, but…(sigh) Tim. I can justify this operation all I like, but the truth of the matter is that we’re largely doing it for Tim. This…this ritual is the reason his brother died. The Circus, the Stranger, it stole his brother’s skin.
God. I’m the only one of us without…without a dog in this fight, I suppose? No, that’s not the right way of phrasing it. But Danny is undoubtedly going to be part of the Dance, however much we want to believe otherwise. And Gertrude…of course Orsinov is going to, how did she put it with me, “wear her to dance the world new.” Tim’s brother, Martin’s grandmother…
I’m, I’m almost tempted to look up my grandmother’s grave, or my father’s, and find out if they’ve been disturbed. I have to assume it’s been too many years, but I have no idea how long they’ve been collecting these skins, so what if—no. No, that’s not—it wouldn’t work like that. They only dug up Gertrude because they wanted her power. Everyone else, it appears, they took…alive. I don’t know enough about taxidermy to know how long a thing can be dead before its skin can’t be preserved, and frankly I don’t want to.
It’s enough to know what I know. Enough to be doing what I’m doing.
It has to be.
Statement of Sasha James, Archival Assistant at the Magnus Institute, regarding what I did not study Classics well enough to understand why it has been termed Operation Janus. Recorded by subject, fourth April, 2017.
I know why I’m staying back. I get it. It wasn’t the original plan, but I get why Jon gave in to it. He’s right, the more people go, the more dangerous it gets. It doesn’t take eight people to push a button. And with my uncle being back, I don’t—I owe it to him to stick around. Staying back here is going to be safer. Probably.
Still…I have to admit I’m a little jealous that I don’t get to go.
I’m curious. That’s the problem. Curious and excited in ways I shouldn’t be. The description of the last attempt at the Unknowing fascinates me, and I want to see the ways this one will be different. I want to see if I can stand in the face of the Stranger and come out on top. And…well, the Stranger is our antithesis, after all. We know and it conceals. It’s one of the few secrets I can’t just pluck from the air, and that excites me and infuriates me in equal measures.
I want to know.
(short laugh) God, that’s probably the other reason everyone got immediately on board with the whole “stay behind, Sasha” thing. They know I’m the most likely to be a…rogue element. They know that as much as I want this to work and want everyone to come home safe, I’d be the most likely to go poking around in places I shouldn’t, sneaking around trying to ferret out secrets, tape recorder in hand and eyes wide open. The chances of me doing something—incredibly stupid and getting caught in the middle of the Unknowing is high.
I would, too. I’d be the one that would screw everything up for everyone. Not on purpose. I know how much this means to Tim…and because it means a lot to Tim, it means a lot to Jon and Martin, too. We’ve put a lot of work into this and I don’t want to blow it.
But I—I know myself. If I were to go, there’d be that niggling little voice in the back of my head telling me that it doesn’t matter, that what we do won’t change the course of the world. That this ritual is doomed to fail anyway, so who cares if they can’t blow it up because I’m up there trying to watch it?
The trouble is that I wouldn’t tell them I was going. I’d just…slip off. Find a good vantage point to watch it all from. They’d never know I was up there and Tim would press that button and…
Anyway, I’m needed here. They’re right about that. This part of the plan needs all the people it can get. The more, the merrier, all that. And there are enough parts of it that I don’t know about—or don’t know the purpose of—that it’s built up my curiosity. It’s going to be pretty interesting, and I’ll get to be there to see it. I hope. And it’s not like I can’t get all the details out of the others easily enough afterwards.
It’s fine. It’ll be fine.
Statement of Basira Hussain, fourth April, 2017, at the request of Jonathan Sims.
I don’t have any idea why I’m doing this. I mean, I’m not talking about the actual…mission. I’m not talking about what we’ll be doing come Thursday. I know why I’m doing that. I don’t know why I’m doing this, except that Jon asked me to. Asked us all to, really. And Sasha passed me off the recorder, so…here I am.
I don’t want to be part of this. I never did. I never made a secret of the fact that I wanted nothing more to do with all this…paranormal and supernatural stuff. When I was done with the police, I was done with Section Thirty-One and all that entailed. And then I let myself get dragged back into it like I’d never left. I know what we’re likely to be up against and I’m doing it anyway.
Maybe that’s part of the reason why. I can’t let them go into this alone.
Let’s be honest. I’m not helping out because I want to save the world. Not even because I think this thing is all that dangerous. I’ve helped out up to this point because of Sasha. I’m going because of Daisy.
I’ll admit, I’m…torn. I want to be there for Daisy. She was always there for me. She’s…dependable. Solid. You know where you stand when you’re with her. I know the others don’t trust her all the way, but really, she’s always been a good partner to me. Maybe her methods weren’t always the greatest, but she knew what she was doing and why she was doing it. It’s easier to see the way straight with her. You go in, you blow things to hell, you get out. You stop the monsters. You fix the problems. Simple.
At the same time, I—I feel like I ought to be here. To help Sasha. She keeps telling me she’ll be fine, that it would be a lot more suspicious if I stayed than if I go, since I don’t work at the Institute. There’s no reason for me to be hanging around here. I know she’ll have Melanie and…I know she’ll be okay. Logically, I know that. But still…
I don’t trust Elias. I mean, shocker, nobody trusts Elias. Just thought it might be useful for someone to know that it’s not just people who work here who don’t trust him. I’ve met him all of twice and I felt like I had to go take an immediate shower every time. But I feel like Sasha’s—the part of the plan Sasha is helping with has a lot more potential to go wrong. It relies too much on Elias Bouchard acting the way they’re predicting, and I don’t know about that. I think there’s going to be trouble.
Then again, I don’t know that it’s the kind of trouble I can help with, or if I need to be there to make sure Daisy doesn’t get in a sticky spot.
(deep breath) God, just make a decision, Basira.
I think I have to go. I think…they’re not going to have the kind of help Daisy might need if I don’t go. Sasha will—she’ll be okay. She’s got backup here. It’s going to be fine.
It’s fine.
Melanie King, fifth of April, 2017, 8:21am.
All right, Jon, let’s make this clear: I’m still not doing this for you. I’m doing it because Martin asked me to.
Everyone’s leaving tomorrow. Everyone except those of us who are sticking around to deal with Elias. Um, I’m not sure what time everyone’s leaving. They’re going to let us know before they do and we’re all going to meet up at the Institute if we’re not already here, but I think there’s a lot of “if we don’t say when we’re leaving exactly, it’s harder for people to track us down” going on. Even though apparently Rosie booked them into a B&B, so it’s not like they can’t be traced.
I mean. I know what they’re doing is mostly superfluous. They’re not—it’s not going to make a difference if the Unknowing gets pushed back, ‘cause it won’t work. They can blow what’s left up after and it’ll still be fine. But I’m kind of worried that they’ll get caught ahead of time and…I don’t know how this stupid Dance is actually supposed to work.
My dad gave me this book of Hans Christian Andersen’s stories when I was a kid. Fake leather binding, gorgeous artwork. It had a picture of Kay asleep in the Snow Queen’s sleigh on the front and full-color plates in it. My favorite story was “The Red Shoes”. I don’t know why I liked that one so much, but I used to ask my dad to read it to me, over and over, and he always did the same voices and everything. Every time someone mentions the Dancer, or the Dance, I hear his voice, pretending to be the angel in the churchyard.
“Dance you shall,” said he, “dance in your red shoes till you are pale and cold, till your skin shrivels up and you are a skeleton! Dance you shall, from door to door, and where proud and wicked children live you shall knock, so that they may hear you and fear you! Dance you shall, dance—!”
It didn’t end happily, that story. Or it did, depending on how you look at it. She repented and got forgiven in the end, but then died immediately. Dad always said Andersen had to end it that way because he knew if she didn’t die right away, she’d fall right back into her old ways. I don’t know if that’s the parallel I’m thinking of with this…creepy puppet person or if I’m just thinking about it because of the dancing bit.
I think it helps that I got all that stuff about India off my chest already. I didn’t—there are universes where I didn’t talk about it and I was just so angry all the time. I’m always angry, let’s be honest. That hasn’t changed. But I didn’t let it…fester. There’s some things festering, sure, but not all of it, and I’m really glad of that, I think.
I can do this. We can do this. And (heh) I like this plan a lot. Don’t know much about it, but I know how it’s going to end, and I am completely on board with that.
Oh, and Martin—if you’re listening to this…you’ve got a deal. After everything is over, I’ll get Jon Prime to get that bullet out. I promise.
Jon, Martin, if you’re listening to this before we leave…don’t. Please just don’t. You can listen to this later. After. Not now. I can’t say this if I know you’re going to listen to it before. And whatever else you are, whatever put these recorders here, I—if you tell them, I will find some way of making your existence miserable for all time. Don’t test me. I’ll manage it somehow.
I…I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to…you know what, no. It works when the others do it, so…what the hell.
Statement of Timothy Stoker, Archival Assistant at the Magnus Institute, London, involving conclusions and endings. Given directly, fifth August, 2017. Statement begins.
I know I’m not coming back from this. I realized that a couple weeks ago. It’s been…not as hard as it should be, actually, to sit with them and smile and joke and be…me. I should feel worse about it. I should regret it more, mourn more for what I’m not getting, you know? There should have been more hesitancy. More melancholy.
It should’ve been harder for me to hide it from them.
But…it’s not. It’s like Jon’s dad said in his statement. Regretting the life you won’t get just means you waste the life you do. So even knowing I won’t live past…tomorrow, I’ve been making memories. For them if not for me. Charlie especially, he doesn’t need to…he’s lost enough in his life. Better for him not to dwell on it. But for all of them, I don’t want their memories of these last few days to be…tainted with knowing I’m going to die. Or with knowing that I knew I was going to die.
I—I need to do this. It’s not like it used to be. It used to be all revenge. Even a year ago, I would have gone full red rum on this museum and started hacking up waxworks to punish them for what they, it, did to Danny. It’s not the same now. I don’t have that burning hatred, that thirst for revenge…plus, you know, it might be kind of hard to swing an axe with one hand in a cast, so that’s out. Don’t get me wrong, I want to pay them back for skinning my brother. I want to pay them back for threatening Martin and torturing Jon. For what they did in that—that other universe to Sasha, to Jon Prime, and, well, maybe a little to me. I do want revenge for all of that.
It’s just that now it’s—I can get revenge just by watching it collapse. Don’t have to blow it all up for that. The best revenge might be seeing the look on Nikola Orsinov’s plastic face when she discovers that she hasn’t danced the world new after all. That it’s still the same old world and she hasn’t won a damn thing. Might be worth it for that.
But it won’t be. I have to—if we just let it collapse, they might still be able to try again. Who knows who else might be hurt, might be killed, because the Stranger has so much power just…swirling around? Whereas if we blow it up, we can disrupt all of that. We can keep anyone else from finding their brother’s skin pulled off like a tablecloth, or from being chased by a monster pretending to wear someone else’s skin, or from spending two weeks tied to a chair and being basted like a turkey. I can’t let the Stranger go near them again. I can’t let them be hurt.
So. Plastic explosives it is.
And I’m not—I know it’s not as easy as we want it to be. I talked to Daisy. I know what the range on that detonator is. Even if I know when the ritual starts, I won’t be able to clear the building completely before pushing the trigger or I’ll be too far away from the charges and they won’t blow. The only way to be sure they all go off is to still be underneath the building, right in the middle of everything. I might be able to run for it and get out in time, but it’d be touch and go. Daisy’s opinion is that I’ll have a better chance of survival if I stay put and hope the building collapses in such a way that I survive, but I don’t need freaky Eye powers to know she doesn’t think my chances are good either way.
Even before knowing that, though, I didn’t think I was going to live through this. And I’m—(small laugh) I’m not okay with that. I’m not! But I’ve come to terms with it, I guess. I don’t want to die, but if I have to…you know. As long as Jon and Martin are safe, it’s worth it.
(deep breath) That…that actually did help. Got it all out without stumbling over myself. So…thanks for that, I guess.
Oh, uh…Jon, Martin, there’s a file in the bottom drawer in the living room. It’s all my insurance paperwork. I, uh, I had my policy updated a couple weeks ago. It’s not much, but…it should at least help with the house payments. You know.
I know it’s not—if it’s not enough, it should at least be something.
And…I’m sorry.
(small sigh) Statement of Martin Blackwood, Archival Assistant at the Magnus Institute, regarding his final thoughts. Recorded direct from subject, fifth of August, 2017.
It’s almost the end of the day. We’ve already closed down everything, buttoned everything up. We’re just waiting for—Elias—to come down and confirm the arrangements like he threatened, and then we’ll leave. I think. I don’t think we’re planning to stay here overnight. Actually, I know we aren’t, because Jon just shoved the recorder and the tape everyone’s been putting their final thoughts on into my hands and pointed me at the War Room and asked me to please just get mine on here already.
I’m scared. I don’t think that’s a big secret. This might be it. This might be…when it’s all said and done, this tape might actually be everyone’s last words. Well, not everyone’s, but…well, maybe. We all pretend to think the people who are staying behind are going to be safer than the ones who go, but that’s not necessarily accurate. I mean, the first face of the plan is the one about Great Yarmouth and the House of Wax and blowing up the Stranger, which, you know, explosives and the Stranger. We know that’s going to be dangerous. But the other face is the one that’s going to be…
It’s going to be just as dangerous, I think. Maybe more. Because it’s about taking down Elias Bouchard.
It’s about taking down Jonah Magnus.
We don’t know all the details. Jon Prime has a plan, he seems pretty confident it’ll work, but he’s not telling us all the specifics. I don’t know if it’s because we can’t accidentally reveal what we don’t know or because he’s trying to protect us. Either way, he hasn’t told us any more beyond what it is he needs us to do. After that, he just said, “Leave it to me.”
I—I trust him. I do. I believe he has a plan, I believe that it’ll work. I’m sure everything is going to work out there. But if it goes wrong…
Something’s going to go wrong. I’m almost sure of it. It’s, it’s, my luck cannot be this good. There’s no way we come out of this all right. Something’s going to go wrong and, and we’re not going to succeed, or someone’s going to get badly hurt, or—
I can’t lose them now. I can’t.
God there’s—there’s so much I want to say. So much I should say. Jon, Tim, if you’re listening to this and—I-I’m sorry. I want to say it, but…but at the same time, I refuse to have the first time I tell you be on tape. It’s going to be in person or not at all. (heh) Maybe I’ll get the nerve up to say something tonight, but I doubt it. Don’t want to make you guys uncomfortable, just in case…just in case it’s just me that feels this way.
B-but, but you’re both smart. You can probably guess what I’m not saying. So if you’re listening to this, and I’m not…there, and I didn’t say anything before…yeah. I do. Both of you. Really and truly, from the bottom of my heart.
(sigh) I just need them to be safe. I can handle anything as long as they’re safe.
Wh—okay, okay, Elias is coming. I need to go.
Right, this is it. Here we go.
Good luck to all of us. I think we’re going to need it.
Right, I know you don’t expect me to say anything here, but…I’m having trouble settling down, and I’m hoping getting my thoughts out will help with that. So.
Statement of Jonathan Sims Prime, the Archivist, regarding…round two. Recorded direct from subject, fifth April, 2017…barely. Statement begins.
I am ready. I know I am ready. I will never be more ready. All our plans are laid, and this will be the best opportunity I have, we have, to carry them out. I also know this may be my only chance.
(sigh) That’s not quite true. It may be—it will be my only chance to take out Elias Bouchard, not Jonah Magnus. I don’t need the Eye’s power to know that. If he knows I’m here, if he knows I’m planning to destroy him, he’ll run. He’ll find someone he deems worthy to be his successor and take their place. Elias Bouchard’s body will be found…somewhere, and there will be another running around with Jonah Magnus’ eyes, someone I won’t recognize. He’ll find somewhere else to build up as the Eye’s new pedestal, find a new Archivist, someone to be a new linchpin for his plan. And the whole thing will start again.
There’s—there is a part of me that thinks, well, that won’t be so bad. As long as all of the others survive…as long as I haven’t failed them…it’s not the worst thing in the world. Certainly Jonah won’t try with anyone at the Institute again. It could take years for him to build up enough strength to attempt his ritual, to—to find a willing vessel, or at least a pliant one. Certainly I could try to hunt him down. With Tim’s ability to See marks, and with everyone else’s ability to Know and get answers—
No. No, I can’t think like this. I-I have to stay positive. We have a plan. It’s a good plan. It’s going to work.
If I’m honest, I am far more worried about the team heading to Great Yarmouth than I am about the ones staying here. I know I can protect the ones here. Jonah will threaten, he’ll torture, but he won’t risk trying to actually physically harm them or, God forbid, kill them. Not until they’re closer to where we’re going to spring the trap, and at that point, I’ll be there. No, Jonah isn’t the danger, not right now. Not…today, I guess. The danger is in the Unknowing.
I know what they face. I know what the risks are. I—God, sometimes I still think I can hear that music, see those…horrible dancers. I would have said it was the worst experience of my life, until…later. Until I had to face the possibility of losing Martin before I told him how I felt. But even so…it was terrifying, and dangerous, and so much more than we had ever expected.
And it cost us Tim.
I cannot, will not, pay that cost again. I didn’t—I wasn’t in a good place then, and I didn’t realize how much he might have meant to me, but…we were friends, once, even if we weren’t as close as he and Sasha were.  And it hurt me dreadfully to lose him. It was worse on Martin—God, poor Martin. He so very nearly lost us both, left alone with two people who never fully trusted him, who bonded with each other and excluded him, even when he was still trying to be a part of things…
That cannot happen. They have to be all right. All of them. They’ll—it’s going to be fine. I know what to warn them about. I know what they have to be aware of. They have all the tools they need. They will go in, set the charges, get out, detonate them, and collapse for a good night’s sleep. They’ll all be home tomorrow. It’s going to be fine.
This time tomorrow, it will all be over. Much of the Stranger’s power will be dissolved, the Unknowing a pile of rubble. Jonah Magnus will be gone for good. The world will be safe.
The team will be safe.
They have to be. I can’t let myself believe anything less.
(haltingly) Statement of Martin Blackwood Prime, on the morning of his friends’ departure, again. Taken direct from subject, sixth April, 2017.
God. I—I didn’t realize that actually meant anything when I said it. Even back then. Even just me, just with the little I was doing…I guess I did actually manage to get enough of the Eye’s attention that it, it did a little, anyway. Not enough that I could get a coherent statement out of anyone else, o-or maybe it was by the time they left, but…it was enough.
I can’t feel it now. Not even a little bit. There’s—there’s nothing. I’m cut off from the Eye well and proper, which, I mean, that’s what we wanted, but…
Well. Except for the parts I let it have back.
So that’s why I’m awake doing this. I had the nightmare again. I’ve—I’ve had it a lot, especially lately. Reliving that gallery of horrors, the one I passed through on my trip back in time. I didn’t at first, and I think we both thought—we all thought—that I still had enough of a connection to the Eye not to satisfy it with my fear. But that’s not the case. I think it was just at first that Past Jon wasn’t strong enough to dream about me, and the others definitely weren’t, and the Eye didn’t quite know what to do with Jon. Then, um, then he took the doctor’s statement, and I-I think that woke the Eye up.
It’s only been since Christmas that I—that Jon and I, really—have been having that nightmare. Wasn’t until tonight that I figured it out. See, Jon and I sleep during the day most of the time, and then we’re up most of the night. So I’m the only one Jon can usually relive, because the other live statements he took this time around—he’s normally awake while they’re sleeping and vice versa. But then there’s me.
I still wouldn’t have figured it out, actually, except that I saw the others in my dream tonight, too. Past Jon and Tim and Sasha and Past Me, they were—they were all there, all watching. First time I’ve been asleep while they were. No idea how long they’ve been dreaming, but here we are.
Anyway, yeah. Woke up from that, Jon’s still asleep, so I slipped up here to add my voice to this tape. I’m assuming this is the right one, since it was, you know, sitting out invitingly and all. If I’m ruining another statement, um, sorry.
Okay. Anyway.
It doesn’t feel as hard, staying behind this time. If I’m being honest, a big part of why I hated staying back was because I didn’t want to let Jon go without me. I wasn’t…I hadn’t admitted how I felt. I mean, it’s not like nobody knew about my crush—I think just about everyone in the Institute except Jon knew about that—but I-I don’t think even Elias knew it was more than that. And I hadn’t said anything to Jon. I kept telling myself there’d be another chance, there’d be time later, but—even back then, I didn’t believe it. I didn’t believe the universe would let me be happy.
Now I know I was wrong.
I had to work for it. I had to fight for it. But I got that second chance. I am loved, and I am in love. (heh) I’m engaged, and it’s the first time I’ve really thought about the future in…years. Maybe the universe doesn’t want to let me be happy, but I am happy, so—so suck it, Cosmic Entities.
But yeah. I’m staying here…obviously, I wouldn’t be any use at the Unknowing, and I have a pretty crucial part to play in Jon’s plan. But more importantly, Jon—my Jon—will be here, too. I can—I know he’ll be all right. I know I’ll be here for him if anything goes wrong.
He tried to find a way around me being involved. Wanted me to, I don’t know, stay in our room, stay out of it, stay safe. I wouldn’t let him. Not anymore. Not again. Even if there’s not a lot I can do…I can at least do something to help him. And even if I couldn’t, I’d at least be there for him. He’s not doing this alone. We do this together, or not at all. That’s the deal.
That’s always been the deal.
All right, that’s…I think those are all my thoughts on the matter. Going to go back down and curl up with Jon for a little while longer, at least until it’s time to get things moving. It might be our last chance. But then again, every time we get to do this might be our last chance. You never know what’s coming. So if you treat every moment you get to spend with the one you love as though it’s the last one you’ll spend together…well, it makes every moment special. A-and it, it kind of makes the next moment better, because it’s a moment you didn’t know you’d have.
Yeah, okay, I’m done being sappy and maudlin for now. Gonna go lie down.
Good luck, you lot. I know you can do it.
Oh, wait, one more thing. Jon, Tim, Martin…if you three haven’t said out loud that you’re in love with each other? For fuck’s sake, do it now. Whatever happens today, you don’t want to come out the other side wishing you hadn’t left something unsaid.
And it’s a lot easier to survive if you know someone who loves you is counting on it.
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ewenotakecandle · 4 days ago
Voltz Wars: A Power Struggle <The Researchers> Summarized
Notes Prior: I’ve gotten the A-Okay for my last summary, (o7) and I still plan on summarizing the episodes for all POVs. (In the event that people start consistently posting summaries, I may simply reblog them instead. Less work for me woo! Under those circumstances, I may still post a summary based on the person and if I’m passionate about it so yeee.)
You can find this episode on CaptainSparklez’s Youtube Channel, released on June 8th, 2021.
Past Episode Recap: Ranboo arrived from a strange portal, pulled a lever and caused Sparklez’s lab tent area to be exploded. Sparklez has memory problems now and Ranboo already claimed to not remember much in the first place. They adventure and find various things, a tent, mysterious pillars, outposts, and Sparklez’s research lab facility area. Ranboo becomes Sparklez’s new lab assistant and they make it a goal to learn about their surroundings and science.
The Summary is below!
The Summary:
Sparklez begins to explain his latest hypothesis regarding the portal Ranboo came threw and how to potentially reactivate the portal, if it survived, and maybe even see what is through/get Ranboo back. While looking around the lab facility they find many books labelled “Note to Self” which are all a page long. The notes are presumably written by Sascha, (Sparklez’s past lab assistant) who also seems to have memory troubles.
Sascha had written about not touching Sparklez’s magic tent, something about “Lots of terrible horrors”. They explore a big tent in the distance, presumed to be Sparklez’s magic tent (not to be confused for the one above the facility) and besides it is one of the “obelisk-like towers” (the odd outpost structures). 
Sparklez digs a bit into the top of one of the “obelisk-like tower”. They then read a “Weekly Report ~Sascha” where Sascha mentions ‘their’ cautiousness to not break the towers and describes how energies are collected within the towers. While reading, the text “The air around you {Sparklez} suddenly becomes suffocated with strange energies.” and some purple effects appear on Sparklez’s screen. Sparklez asks “What did you just do?” to Ranboo, who is confused, and the effects clears up momentarily. The report goes onto mention Sascha’’s notes elsewhere in a nearby location.
They sleep in the big magic tent and then head to the place that Sascha mentioned in her report. Said place has a man-made tower and a quarry. Sparklez stands in front of an “Emergency Protocol” lever so Ranboo doesn’t see. There are many books, including “Chemist’s Journal” and “Scribbled note”, the latter describes Sascha exploring strange underground tunnels in the quarry. Ranboo goes to the lever as Sparklez was reading the books. Despite Sparklez’s best efforts, Ranboo flicks the lever, which starts triggering big explosions around Sascha’s tower.
They try to read the books in the tower as more explosions start occurring. The book “Makeshift Report” describes more on Sascha’s speculation about the tunnels and the infamous lever, which is a hypothesis by some genius named Campton. The lever Ranboo flicked is revealed to be a self-destruct lever. More explosions occur and they venture down into the tunnels for exploration reasons and for safety. Because going into tunnels while explosions are happening all around is “definitely safe”.
They explore the tunnels and read another book (the title is not shown) about Sascha discovering the tunnels. They enter a tunnel area with a lever, which again, despite Sparklez’s best attempts, Ranboo flicks it. The floor the two are on breaks away and lands them sinking into cobwebs. The episode ends there.
I mention more of the books and their respective numbers below.
More Descriptive Details Under The Cut / Things I Noted in Chronological Order:
The episode starts with the two waking up.
“Note to Self” (#14) Is Sacha’s note to not touch Sparklez’s machine or his magic stuff.
Ranboo likes Timothy and can operate Timothy. The robot manual says Ranboo is his owner. Timothy can act as a moving chest and crafting table.
Sascha returns :D, in past written note-form! Sascha could still be totally dead tho.
“Note to Self” (#45) It is implied that Sasha wrote the notes and that in #45 she was a bit annoyed with the Captain sending her to do something he could easily do himself.
“Okay man, what do you know about lab assistants, okay?” - Sparklez
“Nothing, actually.” - Ranboo
“Yeah.. well, maybe they’re generally unhappy.” - Captain
“Yeah... maybe lab assistants are just always sad.” - Ranboo
“Note to Self” (#7) Talks about power sources and material used often in conjunction with the power sources.
An untitled “Book and Quill” which includes the starting words of “Journal Entry #1″ and the writer, presumably Sascha, is a chemist and “can’t remember” much, so thats why there are so many notes, Captain encouraged her to write some stuff down. This is not signed by Sascha, nor are most of the “Note to Self”s.
“Note to Self” (#31) is about not touching Sparklez’s magic tent. This “Note to Self” IS actually signed by Sascha.
Ranboo still has the untextured moon.
Sparklez goes to sleep for the night as it is raining before they go to the magic tent.
Near the lake nearby is “Sascha’s fishing hole” which is a small shack with blue and white tent colors. (Researcher colors)
“Note to Self” (#22) Is Sascha’s reminder to herself “to replace wire before the Captain sees... I don’t know how he sleeps with it running all night” This presumes Sascha was responsible for the missing cable, but it is not signed. Still a “Note to Self” The two put the missing cabe back.
They both have iron swords. “Now we can fight for Timothy, make sure that Timothy is protected at all times.” They don’t bring Timothy.
Both now have iron chestplates and the rest is their hazmat suit.
The genuine “Dude, levers are awesome” The absolute awe in his voice.
“If you had to choose between Timothy or a lever-” - Captain
“Lever” There was no hesitation.
The “obelisk-like tower” has cobble, stone, and the dark purple blocks. The same dark purple blocks as the pillar and those talking ones from the Arena Altar.
Ranboo finds a radar gun and a cake.
The book “Weekly Report ~Sascha” (8 pages) basically, talks about how they (implied Sascha and Sparklez) have not disturbed the tower, only observed it. Sascha writes of energies being drawn to the obelisk-like tower and what it could mean. (There’s more to it than that but I’m not writing all the pages here at the very least) While reading, there are some cool video effects and Sascha has a need-to-be-repaired robot fiancé. 
The book “,,,,,,” has “4B4A575759364C44474E495534513348485536513D3D3D3D(33)” written in it.
The “======“ book has the words “Rmlm(6)dGg=“
Ranboo mispronounces all the elements including Manganese, Gallium, Selenium, Hydrogen, Sodium and Oxygen.
The book “Chemist’s Journal” is a purple book used for observations.
The “Scribbled note” is signed by Sasha.
“See, nothing happened” - Ranboo
*Explosions are heard*
“Something did happened” - Ranboo
Ranboo’s comedy. Beautiful. “Ladders.” *Dramatic zoom* “You need those.”
They get launched high in the air and land in water. The tunnels have this strange black-blueish brick in it.
Sparklez’s camera pans over to to Ranboo. 
*In complete deadpan* “ had to flick it” 
“I did” - Ranboo, earnestly
I hope you enjoyed! :D
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mercurial-make-em-ups · 4 days ago
The first time I said I love you
Summary: Elaboration on the drabble “The 1st time he said I love you” from Steve’s POV. I see this as an AU Winter Soldier era Steve in my mind’s eye.
Warnings: smut in the middle, some angst but mostly fluff, self doubt and lots of ruminating thoughts. 18+ No minors please. Also because this is my first true fic I feel the need to protect it. Don’t steal my work you pervy little wattpad vultures!
Length: 6.6K (that's too many words isnt it?)
Author’s note: still figuring out how to write reader inserts. At times it reads as if Steve is relating the story of his relationship with y/n to y/n herself and others as if he is talking to someone or himself. I left the inconsistencies and tried to use whatever voice “felt right”. Will have to study more fanfics to see how better other authors deal with reader insert and shifting voice/perspective. Also, is it presumptuous fo think anyone would want to steal my writing?! 🤔
Title: The first time I said I love you...
...I immediately wanted to take it back. Not because I didn’t feel it or mean it but because you felt it so viscerally. I heard your subtle but sharp intake of breath and then a pause, like you didn’t intend to take another for a long while. I observed how your body stiffened, your spine straight and your muscles seized. I heard your heart pounding steady and strong but faster and louder. Your face, which was normally shyly observant but seemed always ready to crack into a laugh or a smile, was blank. Your eyes met mine directly, but they looked panicked and a bit watery. You then turned away and stared out the window of the café, saying nothing at all. My heart broke a little. I knew it was soon and perhaps too fast, but I felt what I felt. I was sure I loved you and needed you to know it too.
I had planned this date meticulously but managed to cock it all up by moving too quickly. We had spent the afternoon walking around an art gallery. It was modern art, and I wasn’t much interested in most of the pieces. Some of them just seemed gratuitously violent or nonsensically abstract for my taste. But you walked slowly around the small gallery, giving every piece its due time and attention. Your inquisitive nature would have you reading the title cards, sometimes searching the artist or concepts on your phone, turning to me, and explaining something or pointing out a detail that intrigued you. Other times you just turned your head to me, seemingly very aware that I was taking in more of you and your behaviours than the art I should have been enjoying. You would smile softly, sometimes moving nearer and taking my hand gently, walking me closer to the next piece. Once you had seen every piece, you looked tired. Your shoulders slumped a little and your face was less expressive. I collected all these small observations of you through the past few weeks, trying to get to know you through these little physical details and traits. You didn’t volunteer much about yourself at first, but I was content to wait to have you reveal yourself to me in your own time. If I got to spend my limited down time with you, I was content.
We had met in a park if you remember the day. It was spring in DC, still a little cold and frosty in the early morning. I was running laps through the dense tree-lined path of my favourite park before work in the early daylight. I didn’t notice you on my first pass, but I noticed you the second time. You were in a small thicket of trees, sitting on a park bench with many layers on, a hoodie under a thick coat with a burgundy knit cap on your head and large over the ear headphones on top. You were sat cross legged with a blanket in your lap and your nose deep into a well-worn book that appeared to be a favourite. You ignored everything around until a sneaky little pigeon tried to grab the half-eaten muffin you had sat on a paper bag on the park bench next to you. You jumped up yelling “Oh you bold little bugger! That’s my breakfast thank you very much!” The wool blanket you had over your knees fell to the wet grass and gravel below, your open tea canister spilt your tea across the bench in the kerfuffle, and your book fell into the small puddle of tea. I couldn’t help but chuckle and smile as your perfectly serene morning was ruined. You looked up then with annoyance and embarrassment on your face, staring directly at me like you had known I was there the whole time. You parsed your lips and then looked away, gathering your things up.
I slowly approached, being careful to keep my distance. I didn’t leave the path but walked right up to the edge and called out the last few feet. “I am sorry to laugh, but you and that pigeon put on quite the show.”
You leaned down to the muffin on the ground and lobbed it at the attempted thief. The pigeon dodged the muffin but happily started to peck at it where it rolled in the grass.
“I am glad I could provide you some amusement. I guess it was time for me to head into work anyways.” You gathered your things, stuffing the blanket in your backpack and straightening your clothes out. I could see that you were wearing office attire including a smart grey knee length skirt and black leggings, and sensible black leather Mary Janes. You started to approach the path I was standing on, but you seemed unsure you wanted to get too close to me, slightly veering off to the side.
“My name is Steve Rogers, by the way.” You paused as your feet hit the cement of the path, standing about 8 feet from me. You turned and slowly looked me up and down, your features inscrutable.
“Nice to meet you, Captain Rogers. But I knew it was you.” At that you turned and walked away.
“May I know your name? I won’t know what to call you besides “muffin-slinger.”
You laughed out loud at that. “Y/N. Have a good day, Captain.”
“Y/N, can I buy you another muffin? There’s a coffee shop around the corner that’s usually quiet at this time. Bet we can get you a new tea and a muffin without making you late for work.”
You paused on the path with your back to me. You were still for so long I had assumed you were trying to think of how to word your rejection. You surprised me by turning and walking back to where I stood, moving quite close to me, and looking up into my eyes. Quietly you asked in a breathy voice, “Why?”
I was surprised by the question. And frankly a bit stumped. “I don’t know, I just knew I would regret it if I didn’t.”
You hummed lightly at that and said, “Which way to the coffee shop?”
As you looked out of the café window, from our spot, I was watching you and fretting. Perhaps you were thinking about how to word your discomfort or rejection of my confession. Perhaps you were realizing that you didn’t have any feelings for me at all. Perhaps I had stunned you entirely. After a few long minutes you turned back to me and spoke softly, “Steve, I think I am too tired and hungry. Could you take me home?”
“Of course, y/n. If that’s what you want.” I hesitated but didn’t want to end our date on this note. “But I was hoping you would come over to my place for the evening. I was going to order delivery from your favourite place. I got new patio furniture last week and wanted to show you. I think it will make sitting in the backyard more comfortable for you. I will drive you home after dinner or any time you want, actually.”
You were quiet again. Observing me with the same intensity I had observed you all day. I tried not to fidget as you mulled my offer. “Okay, but I can’t promise to be very lively company. I feel….” You stopped talking and clamped your lips shut, seemingly done sharing.
I smiled and said quietly “You don’t have to be anything other than you.”
The evening went well. Better than I had expected given the afternoon’s events. We ate dinner and chatted quietly in the backyard. You looked calm and relaxed seated in the comfortable padded chairs under the stars and fairy lights I had strung up. I never sat outside in my yard before you. But you loved to be outside, especially in the early morning or evening before other people were out and after other people had gone to bed. We moved to the comfortable couch along the fence. I bought this couch and an umbrella just for you. You laid on park benches in the sun reading with regularity and I wanted to see you sprawled and comfortable in my back yard. I put my arm along the back of the couch, and you settled down near me. You moved closer and although we had cuddled and kissed before, this felt like something new. You leaned closer until you were pressed along my side, resting your head back on my arm and shoulder. I dropped my left hand into my lap. You moved your left hand on to my knee, resting it lightly. I slowly placed my hand over yours, rubbing slow gentle circles along your knuckles. You watched our hands closely. Unexpectedly, you looked up at me and slowly pressed your lips to mine. You raised yourself up, slowly but with intent. You twisted your body until you faced me and swung your knee over, grabbing the excess fabric of your sundress into your hand. You sat on my lap, dress pooled at your thighs, legs wide open and eyes bright and eager. Both hands came to my face and you kissed me with intensity I hadn’t felt before. Sweet and light but insistent.
“Steve, can I stay the night with you?” You whispered as you broke the kiss, eyes still closed, forehead leaning against mine.
“Of course, y/n. But are you sure?”
“Yes, I am sure. I want you, Steve.”
Perhaps I was scared you would change your mind but with that, I placed my hands on your backside and lifted us both from the couch. I went straight through the patio door, asking you to slide the screen door open and then closed. I then marched us right upstairs into my bedroom and laid you down on the comforter.
I slowly laid down on top of you, between your spread thighs. You looked so beautiful with your hair strewn about around you and your delicate white underwear visible. How was I to resist such a sight? But we hadn’t gone this far before. You hadn’t even been upstairs of my home before. I slowly rubbed my hands up from your ankle socks, up your smooth calves and thighs, I wanted to palm your ass, pull your cotton covered slit up against my hard cock, showing you how much I wanted you. But I felt hesitant, like you were made of glass and the most precious thing I had ever touched. I paused with my hands on your hips, kneeling on the bed between your legs, leaning over you to kiss you. You surprised me by wrapping your arms around my neck and pulling me down on top of you, my full weight on you. I was scared I was crushing you but instead you were running your hands through my hair, crushing your lips to mine, and simultaneously raising your hips up to meet mine, rubbing your slit along my cock still trapped in my pants. I lost it then, feeling like any sense of control I had over the situation was now gone. I began to undo the buttons running up the front of your dress, slowly revealing your soft cotton sports bra. Upon seeing your pebbled nipples through the pale fabric, I pulled it down under your breasts and, I suckled on them greedily. You mewled and arched your back under me, pushing further into my mouth. Your one hand still in my hair, the other trailing down my body, contorting yourself so that you could palm my cock through my pants, gripping and rubbing and feeling the length of me. I worked your dress totally open and kissed down your stomach. You seemed to freeze a bit at that and tried to cover yourself with your arm. I took your hands and kissed each of them and placed them back at your sides. “You’re so beautiful, please don’t hide from me.” You smiled sheepishly but kept your hands where I had placed them on the bed. I moved to wrap my fingers under your underwear, pausing to look up at you. “May I?”
You again surprised me by nodding eagerly, smiling gently. I had left the light on and I could see every bit of you. I felt I should have probably been thoughtful enough given your shy nature to turn the lights low, perhaps putting on the table lamp across the room. But I couldn’t stop, I had to taste you. I had to know what you sounded like when I lazily snaked my tongue through your folds. I hadn’t had much experience recently but with you, I just knew what I wanted. What I needed. I hoped you needed it too. I pulled your underwear slowly down your legs, exposing your sex and noticing the damp spot in your underwear. It was a relief to see you were turned on as well. I took one last look at you splayed open for me, patiently waiting as I moved down so that my face was in front of your sex. I could smell you, sweet and salty. I could feel the heat radiating from your core. I tentatively placed my tongue lightly through your lips and directly on your bundle of nerves, swirling and suckling. You sounded so sweet, arching your back and moaning my name. I placed my hands on your hips to hold you still as I single-mindedly focused on your pleasure. I wanted you to come apart for me. I wanted to know I had made you forget to be shy and forget to be closed off. I was rewarded when I felt your hands in my hair, scratching my scalp and pulling me closer and as you moaned and squirmed, finally coming undone on my tongue.
You were splayed across the bed, breathing heavily, eyes closed. I moved up your body, face still slick with your juices, to kiss you, letting you taste yourself. I moaned as your hands moved to my belt undoing my pants eagerly and quickly. You pushed down my boxers and paused looking up at me for me consent to touch me. I nodded and you grabbed my length, stroking and smearing the precum down the shaft.
“Steve, I want you inside me. I want to feel you.”
I needed no more invitation, I lined myself with your entrance and slowly sunk into your heat. You were so tight and warm and wet. I tried to be gentle and slow. Once I was fully inside you, I opened my eyes and looked down at your face. Your eyes were closed your head thrown back, soft whimpers coming out of your kiss-swollen lips. I kissed your neck and up your cheek. “Sweetheart, are you okay?”
You slowly blinked your eyes open and stared up at me. “More than okay, Steve.”
I started to move slowly, loving the way you moaned and rubbed your hands through my hair and across my back, pulling my t-shirt up so you could feel my skin. I didn’t last long and soon felt my own release building. I reached down to rub your clit, wanting to feel you come apart again. You moaned louder and wrapped your legs around me, pulling me deeper inside of you. I couldn’t hold off anymore. “y/n, I’m close. Should I pull out? We didn’t discuss it beforehand, I’m sorry.” Your eyes shot open “I have an IUD, I don’t mind if you wanted to.. you know…” I pumped into your harder and deeper and your sweet moans filled my ears. I rubbed your clit harder, and you chanted my name over and over. I finally came inside you, rocking my body over top yours as your heat created intense convulsions that took over my whole body. As we came undone together, I couldn’t hold myself up anymore and collapsed heavily on you, trying not to crush you. I kissed you passionately as you laid blissed out on your back, arms still in your sundress, sports bra pulled down under your breasts, body covered in sweat.
You giggled and it was one of the best sounds I had ever heard, “Maybe next time we can take our clothes off and get under the covers.”
That night we showered together and slept naked wrapped up together. You snored softly on my chest and I kept you close all night. When I knew you were asleep, I whispered into your hair “I love you, Y/N”.
I picked you up from work a few weeks later. You had taken a half day off on Friday as I had a surprise for you. I felt so pleased that you trusted me enough to cede control. All I told you is that we were going to stay 2 nights outside of the city and that you should pack for all weather and bring a bathing suit. I would have everything else you needed. I tried to deliver on that promise. We drove a few hours outside of DC into the woods where I had rented a private cottage, cozy yet completely modernized. It was less of a cottage and more of a full-scale mini mansion in the woods, but it was perfect. The drive up was fun. You were excited, bright-eyed and more talkative than usual. You giggled and sang along with the radio, smiling broadly in your sunglasses and another gorgeous sundress that exposed your thighs as you walked and splayed open in the car so I could occasionally sneak a peek at your soft inner thighs that I liked to kiss and nip.
We spent the weekend hiking, swimming in the small private lake, reading and lounging near the water, and watching the fire in the evenings cuddled close. We also made love more times than I could count. We explored one another and spent many quiet moments just being with each other. When the weekend wound down and it was time to pack up, I was dragging it out. I wanted to stay like this with you. I didn’t want to go back to the city and handle my day job at SHIELD and occasional missions that took me away from you. I didn’t want you to have to work and study and struggle the way your complicated life made you. Here you were open and free and occasionally downright boisterous. Back at home you were often pensive and stressed and overall, quiet.
As we packed the car and got on the road the silence felt stifling rather than comfortable as it had been just hours before. You started to lightly talk about all the things you needed to do to prepare for the work week when you got home. You named the assignments that were due for your master’s program that you studied in while also working full time for a sleazy politician from some southern state I could never remember. At least the Senator wasn’t around much in the summer, choosing to be at home “with his constituents” which was really code for drinking and partying with his buddies and cheating on his wife with women she knew socially. Your mood slowly shifted, and the quiet, shy girl took the place of the wild and cheeky alter ego like we had forgotten to collect her from the woods to bring her back with us. I loved both versions of you equally but the contrast between these different aspects of your personality was very stark on this bright and warm Sunday afternoon.
As I drove, and watched you discreetly in my peripheral vision, I was again overcome with the intense need to tell you how I felt. How I burned for you. Despite my better judgement, I tried again. “Y/N”, I said as light as I could manage. You turned and looked at me with soft eyes. “I love you; you know?” You again said nothing, just kind of watched me. I could tell you were thinking it through, considering your response. You didn’t react with the panic and anxiety as with the first time I said it, which I took as a subtle indication of progress. Your heart rate increased but not to the same extent as the first time.
You slowly smiled at me, “Are you feeling okay? Perhaps a bit feverish?”
Deflected, with humour no less. Still too soon perhaps. I let out a laugh that I hope didn’t sound too forced to your perceptive ears. I turned on the radio and put my attention back on the road, trying not to let my disappointment show. Too soon still, I repeated back to myself. Or maybe she just doesn’t feel the same about me. I tried not to think about that one. Instead, I started to do my own preparations in my head for the week. I dropped you off at home just after dark, helping you carry your luggage up. I grabbed you aggressively around the waist and pulled your body flush against mine. You eagerly kissed me and mussed my hair with your hands, scratching my scalp the way you know I love. The kiss was hot and intense. You broke it, panting slightly. “Thank you for this weekend. I’ve never felt so comfortable with someone before.”
“You’re welcome, Y/N. I loved every minute of it.”
A few weeks passed. We fell into a steady rhythm of regular weekly hangouts, usually at my place as you had a roommate and lived in a small apartment near the university. The larger suburban house gave us more space and privacy. You were so busy, and the weather was going to turn cold soon, so I decided to surprise you. I turned one of the spare bedrooms upstairs into an office for you. I chose the one with the best view and the most sunlight that faced the back yard so could see the trees. I enlisted some fashionable colleagues who worked at SHIELD to help decorate and vet my furniture selection. I showed them some sneaky photos I took of you and your apartment so they could get a sense of your style. Once the room was ready, I surprised you. One morning I pulled you from the bathroom in your robe, covering your eyes with my hands and walking you slowly into the office. I stood behind you and uncovered your eyes. I stepped around you so I could see your reaction. You looked around, jaw hanging open, realization dawning on your face. You suddenly got serious, the smile fading from your face.
“Do you not like it? We can change anything you don’t like.” I asked quietly.
You were again quiet and stepped lightly closer to the desk. Running your hand along the desk, the back of the high-back white leather chair, over the brand new laptop I placed casually on the desk. I felt foolish, this was too much. You would run for the hills now that I had done such an over-the-top gesture. It was very presumptuous of me to assume you would want to spend so much time at my place with me during the school year when you would be back to taking multiple classes and working long hours at the Senator’s office. You probably liked to work in the library common areas with your friends, or at the small desk in the corner of your bedroom, surrounded by your own things and textbooks.
The silence seemed to swallow me whole and all I was left with was my embarrassment. I felt like too much and not enough all at once.
You finally spoke. “It’s…. the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you, Steve. I am… without words.”
Relief flooded my whole body. It just slipped out in the rush of emotions: “I love you, Y/N. You deserve all of this and more.”
You put your head down, clasped your hands in front of you and quietly said, “Thank you.”
You turned away from my view again and I tried not to read too much into it, accepting that you liked the gift and that was enough.
It was October, the weather turning cold and damp. We were spending every weekend together, staying at my place, you often up in your office studying or writing papers for hours each day. But in the evenings, we would drink wine and make dinner and watch movies and lounge around on the couch together. It was my favourite part of the day. You were often tired and distracted but you always tried to be fully with me during those times in the evening.
This weekend was different as I had to leave in the middle of the day to pick my friend up from the airport. You gave me a sweet kiss and hug and said “I will work extra hard while you are gone so I can stop when you get home. I want to spend as much time with you as possible.”
I was distracted the whole drive to the airport. You had said “home”. Did that imply you saw my house as your home? Or did you just mean it flippantly? And then I thought of all the reasons I was crazy about you and just about missed the airport exit.
Once I pulled up to the curb outside the arrivals terminal, I heard loud yipping and barking and an excited Sam coming out of the automatic doors. “Cap, you are never gonna guess what I brought you from New Orleans!” Sam’s voice boomed across the busy platform. I climbed out of my SUV to greet him with a hug around the middle as he held up his duffle in one hand and the obnoxiously loud puppy in the other.
He passed me the crate and I took it with a confused look on my face. “You got me… a dog?”
Sam laughed “Yeah! I got you a puppy who needed a home!”
“But why?” I asked, very perplexed and a little annoyed. I was a busy man, I didn’t have time for a dog, let alone a puppy! Who would watch him while I was gone on missions? I would have to get a dog walker or a sitter or something.
“Well, I figured that Y/N would be busy a lot and you seem to… have a lot of love to give.” Sam smiled widely at that one. I had expressed how I had been confessing my love to you and that I was concerned that perhaps, Y/N just didn’t feel the same. Sam wasn’t convinced that was the case as he had seen you both together socially dozens of times over the course of your relationship and he knew Y/N wasn’t indifferent. Shy, quiet, and pensive but not indifferent.
“And this puppy needed a home. You’ll be fast friends, he’s a very smart and cuddly dog. Don’t you worry, I already asked my cousins if they could dog sit when you are gone on missions.”
Sam was right. This pup warmed my heart and became my best mate within minutes. I called him Barnes in memory of my old friend, and he was often called Barney or Bucky or Buck as nicknames. Barnes slept in my bed, and on lucky nights where I also had my girl with me, he slept cuddled up next to her, protective and loving. Y/n warmed up to him right away after initially being a bit hesitant around him. “Will he bite me?” Barnes was gentle though still rambunctious and very goofy.
One afternoon when it was pouring rain and very cold, the three of us were in the living room. Barnes was chasing his tail for attention and Y/N’s laughter filled the room watching him. You were relaxed as you had just aced all your midterms and could take the weekend to relax before working on final assignments. A short reprieve from the unrelenting pace of life. With your cute athleisure matching outfit and hair piled haphazardly on your head in messy bun, Y/N was light and brightness on a dark and dreary day.
As your eyes watched Barney’s manic spinning, I again felt that undeniable urge to get you to see how much I cared. I leaned closer and whispered into your ear “I love you, more than you know.”
Y/n surprised me again. Not taking your eyes off the dog, you whispered “But why ever for?”
I was left to gape at you. I recovered quickly but I felt like I had been hit by a car. “Why ever for?” I told you that your immense intelligence and quick wit were a delight to be around. That your beauty and kindness made me feel at once at home and in awe. That your kisses and touches lit my body on fire. That your work ethic and determination to finish school and do a good job for that sleazy politician were admirable. That you pushed me to be a better and stronger man, not from lecturing me or judging me but by constantly working on yourself and pushing yourself to greater heights.
Y/n kept her gaze straight ahead. When I fell silent you softly and sarcastically said “yeah, right.” I felt my heart break a bit again. Not for me this time, for you. You didn’t believe me. Perhaps couldn’t comprehend why I would love you and couldn’t even see yourself clearly. I knew then that I was right to keep you close, to keep saying it. It was my new mission: even if I never hear it back, I must keep saying it. Y/N must hear it until you believe it to be true. Believes you are worthy of love and can accept that I love you.
It was a few weeks before finals and you were stressed. Barely sleeping, constantly working as your sleazy politician had embroiled himself in some low level scandals so you stayed late at the office most nights and had to work extra-long on weekends to stay caught up on schoolwork. We still kept to our usual routine, but you were quieter and more easily startled. In bed you would often lay awake next to me, practically filling the room with smoke from the gears grinding in your head with worry and unfinished tasks on your long to do lists.
Earlier that night we had made love, probably one of the most intense and satisfying sessions we had in weeks. When you were stressed, physical contact didn’t always help to settle you. I knew not to hover or try to force it. Waiting as patiently as possible for you to come to me when you needed physical touch, even though I was seemingly insatiable when it came to you. We laid in bed, still sweaty and tired from multiple sessions, totally naked in the warm and humid room. I kissed your sweaty temple and whispered, “I love you, sweetheart.” I immediately knew I had taken it too far again. You stiffened and rolled away from me. You laid on your side at the very edge of the bed, facing out to the empty room, putting over a foot between our bodies. I ached to have your head back on my chest. Why do I always insist on ruining the moment with those words? I pleaded with myself to drop it, to stop forcing it.
You teasingly whispered “Are you a masochist? If so, we may want to consider fucking different since that sort of thing seems to be up your alley.”
I chuckled lightly and whispered, “Good night, y/n. Sleep well.”
I wanted to scream. Fucking. I hate that word. We are not just fucking, Y/N! I felt like my body fused with yours and we acted out the intensity of our love for one another, giving each other pleasure until our bodies couldn’t handle any more. I felt like it was the purest, most primal expression of my love. But maybe I was wrong, maybe it wasn’t love for you. Maybe it was just a relationship that was comfortable and easy. A body to coexist with as you reached your goals. Maybe she would one day realize that she in fact didn’t love me and just felt a friendly affection for me. I stewed in my thoughts for hours. But so did she. I didn’t want her to suffer, spending another night wide awake but not acknowledging it and shallowly breathing, fretting, and worrying. But I felt relief that she felt something. That perhaps she wasn’t indifferent and unbothered. Even if she was planning to leave me and end our relationship, it would be preferable to apathy. I kept my distance in the bed even though I wanted to wrap her in a bear hug and keep her warm. Press her close to my heart until she felt that I truly did love her. I fell asleep with that yearning desire close to my heart instead.
We stayed in our rhythm until the term ended. She aced her classes, got a special award for one of her essays as she had done some original archival research and wrote a publishable paper as a final assignment. I was so proud. And so relieved as her classes were done now. She still had a thesis to write for her degree, but she would be able to spend more time at my place, for longer periods. I had been trying to convince her that she could move into my place and save some more money. Her roommate was on the verge of moving in with her own boyfriend but told Y/N that she’d delay as long as she needed to find another roommate. She hemmed and hawed about it. I didn’t push her. After we left a long celebratory end of term breakfast with some of her classmates, we walked quietly back to the car. As we approached the car, I felt that familiar bubbling up within me. I needed her to know just how remarkable she was. She hadn’t been quiet at brunch, instead the happy, boisterous version of herself. Her classmates hung on her every word, laughed at her quick wit, and look at her with eyes filled with admiration. Y/n was humble and gracious and deflected and returned every compliment with ease. As I opened the door, I whispered in her ear “I love you.” She watched as I closed the door in her face, not expecting or requiring an answer at this point in our relationship. As I settled in my seat and put on my seat belt she leaned over and lightly pressed her palm on my knee.
She very solemnly looked into my eyes, a piercing and penetrating gaze and stated, “I am not sure I am capable of love. Not sure I know what it looks like or feels like or if I can even return it. But if I could, I would love you.”
I smiled a bit sheepishly and felt the redness grow on my cheeks. My heart swelled with feeling, wave after wave crashing me against the metaphorical rocks. Progress. This was truly progress. I bit the inside of my cheeks to stop the shit-eating grin that threatened to bloom across my face. Someone confessing that they are unsure they know how to love is surely not a time to celebrate. But I already knew she knew how to love. I felt it every carefully chosen word, every thoughtful action, every warm embrace, and every lingering look. I saw it through the care she took with Barnes; the way she always asked after Sam and Natasha and memorized their favourite foods so we could stock the pantry with them in case they came over; the attention and consideration she paid her friends stressed from school and life; the conscientiousness and dedication she put in her work, even if it was for a dirtbag. The more time I spent with y/n the more I was convinced that it wasn’t a lack of anything in her. Perhaps it was lack within every person who claimed to love her before. It wasn’t a lack of feeling as she wouldn’t been running on fumes most days from nights spent unable to sleep from worry and rumination. Perhaps she had been taught to be careful who she lets in because acknowledging the feeling of love would make their disrespect and disregard burn more, leaving deeper wounds that required more time to heal. Perhaps it wasn’t y/n at all but a cruel world that kept her feelings tamped down and locked away, the words to express them so foreign to her ears and mouth she was unable to face them, let alone utter them back.
I shook myself out of revelry, realizing I had been watching her for too long. I heard her stomach growl, which was odd since we just left a restaurant. It had been hours since we ate, and we just spent several hours laughing with her classmates drinking bottomless coffee in the near empty restaurant. “I heard of a new dim sum place that apparently has the best dumplings in the city. Would you like to go there now?”
She smiled widely and bobbed her head enthusiastically. “That superhuman hearing leaves few secrets between us, Cap.”
We were finishing up what we could and packing our to-go containers as I insisted we keep ordering food until she was so full she couldn’t have another bite. As we walked to the car she took my hand and pulled me to a stop. She looked up with her eyes round and wide, a bit of fear visible in them.
“What’s wrong?” I grew uneasy as she looked down.
She quietly asked, “Would you really not get sick of me if I was around more?”
“Never.” I replied, unthinkingly but honestly. “I want to be with you as much as our lives allow.
She had done it. I couldn’t believe it. She had let her apartment go entirely, moving her things into my home only a week after finishing her classes. We would be spending the holidays together with Barnes, and even Sam and Natasha would stay over Christmas eve and Christmas Day. It was fun and relaxing, and we exchanged gifts and watched Die Hard and a Muppets Christmas Carol and drank eggnog and delicious mulled wine. When Sam and Natasha got called out on a mission on Boxing Day, she and I started to clean up after close to 3 full days of fun and revelry.
We had almost everything back to normal, just a massive pile of dishes to turn our attention to. I had treated her with a manicure and pedicure right before the holidays so I volunteered to wash if she would dry to protect her nails a while longer. As I washed the last pot, I was hit by a freight train of emotion. It made me sway as I looked over at her, reaching high to delicately place the wine glasses into their hangars, perfectly dried and polished. I knew I had to say it again. I had to let her know just how pleased I was that she was taking this chance to live with me.
As I finished washing the last pot I rinsed the suds off of it, she turned to look at me, watching my hands as I passed her the pot. As her beautiful, manicured fingers wrapped around the edge of the pan I pulled it back, surprising her. She looked up at me with humour and warmth in her eyes.
“Y/N… I love you.” I said solemnly, leaning into every word.
Y/N replied clearly and firmly, “Thank you, Steve. I love you too.”
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moorbrookemenace · 5 days ago
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BENNETT ANDERSON ( HE/HIM ) is a CISMALE, THIRTY-ONE year old PHARMACEUTICAL SALES REP who has been living in Moorbrooke for THREE WEEKS. They were born on SEPTEMBER 22 and right now, they are currently residing in MAPLE COURT. It has been said that they look suspiciously like DYLAN O'BRIEN and if they had to choose a song to describe themselves, they would choose CODEINE by CEMETERY SUN.
Hi hello! My name is T and in this essay I will be introducing you to my home boi Bennett. There will be some triggering topics below so please proceed with caution!
tw: drugs, drug mention, alcohol mention, pregnancy, manipulation, blackmail 
Full name: Bennett Taylor Anderson Nickname: Ben, Benny Age: 31 Ethnicity: Irish, Italian, Spanish, English Religion: unknown City of birth: San Diego, California The current place for living: Moorbrooke, Maine Birthday: September  22nd Likes? Spicy food, blueberry red bull, peanut butter m&m’s Dislike? Authority, sleeping with too many blankets, wearing socks on the beach
While Bennett would never go as far as to say he believes people are “chosen” in life, he would venture to say that some people are born and collectively the world comes together and decides to shit on them. A silly, maybe a little self-proclaiming thought, but it was the only belief he ever really truly held onto. He was born to two individuals in the midst of falling so far out of love with each other that even in infancy it was like they were taking turns on who was crying in the house. His father had turned to the bottle, his mom to more anti-depressants that she likely knew what to do with, and a life spent with the majority of his time in a car seat. As he got older, his mom did what was always going to be a matter of time and split after she’d dropped him off at school. He was the last one there after everyone had been picked up and after multiple tries calling his mom, he made one attempt to his father who was far too drunk to come get him which landed him in the loving care of his grandparents for the rest of his school years. 
Living with the grandparents of his father wasn’t much better. Sure they weren’t quite as messy but they were far from regular loving parents. They started charging him rent in high school and made it easy for him by leaving a large amount of his grandmothers pain pills lying around aimlessly. Selling petty shit came easy to him. He very quickly became “that kid” in high school that everyone knew they could go to for a quick fix. Also as the kid who at one point set the cheer departments uniforms on fire, but that’s a different story. 
While in school Bennett did what all teenage drug dealers have a bad habit of doing and fell in love with a customer from a “way to rich” family that they both knew would never accept him. While a part of him yearned to be able to change, to conform to something he family would accept, he knew he’d never made near as much money doing anything else and that if he wanted to maintain the house above his head he’d have to keep it up. That all changed when his girlfriends father offered to pay for him to go away college. He told him that if he hung up the game he’d pay for his tuition, his housing, whatever it took to help him succeed and make his little girl happy. 
Bennett took the man up on his offer, made a plan to leave the world of drugs and danger behind him and went off to school with the girl he truly believed to be the love of his life. Unfortunately as many learn in college, not all high school romance is meant to last. College brought on a whole new plethora of challenges for him. A new level of parties, of stress, of temptations that tried the pair. It truly was a miracle they made it out of college at all. 
 Except for the fact that they didn’t. After a fateful night that Bennett came home to find his girlfriend in bed with that same bartender he’d seen her hanging around just about every night, they called their relationship quits. At least behind closed doors. To the rest of the world, they kept up the facade all to ensure her father didn’t stop providing the support he’d promised Bennett. They even went as far as to get fake engagement rings to try and keep up the show. Unfortunately the facade was a bit harder to keep when Bennett went and knocked up a one night stand in his final year of college. The girls father was enraged believing that Bennett had broken his daughters heart no matter how many times they tried to explain the situation to him. 
Bennett was convinced that it was going to be the beginning of the end for his support but instead was provided an offer. One night while anxiously awaiting a call about the termination of their deal, instead he was offered another. As luck would have it, the girls father got more out of sending Bennett to school than he knew, because it left a need in the small town that Bennett had been filling. An opportunity to push his own product to people who no longer could rely on the town junkie. The offer he provided was a chance to not only finish school but to once again get out of town. Get as far away from the mans daughter as he possibly could and a chance to provide for the child that Bennett had little to no ability to raise. 
So long as he agreed to work for his “pharmaceutical” company and complete all the dirty work that came with that for him, the man would continue to write Bennett enough checks to help support himself, his family, and remain totally debt free. As well as stay out of prison for the years of drug dealing he’d known him to be doing in high school. He did this by sending Bennett to a variety of different places, each time building bigger and stronger connections. 
It was only within the last couple of weeks that Bennett was assigned to move to Moorbrooke. A town that seemed so untouched, untainted that it sickened Bennett to the core to think about what he might be bringing with him. He was set up with an apartment as soon as he arrived, but has been contemplating every day since what he needs to do to once and for all set himself free and break away from a life that haunts him.
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slytherinwh0re · 5 days ago
omg hi can i request an angsty draco malfoy imagine where draco and y/n were bound to have a loveless arranged marriage and on the day of the wedding, draco says "i don't" when the priest asks him if he takes y/n as a bride then runs away with astoria and you decide what happens next. <333
Turn in events
Draco Malfoy x Pureblood Female Reader
Warnings: swearing, angsty beginning, funny ending, arranged marriage
Summary: Where you’re to marry Draco but the unexpected happens
A/N: sorry if this isn’t what you had in mind lol
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Being born a pureblood witch came with certain responsibilities, becoming the perfectly mannered lady and a beautiful wife to a pureblood wizard who could afford a marriage contract was one of them. It’s no lie most of these marriages were without love, hell, most were lucky if they even consider each other friends.
You were bread for this lifestyle, you knew what was expected of you from your family but for some reason you never thought it would actually happen. When your father told you of the contract agreed upon with the Malfoy’s for your hand in marriage you felt your heart shatter, not only for you but for Draco as well.
Most girls your age would’ve been jumping with joy at thought of marrying the young Malfoy, even without love everyone knew they took care of their women, you would live an extremely comfortable life as apposed to many. He was a good man but you didn’t love him in a romantic way, sure you’d been friends for year but you both knew there would never be anything more to your relationship.
You’d have to fulfill your duties to him as a wife, lay in his bed, and have his children, be the perfect pureblood family you were shown to be. All these things wouldn’t have been so bad if there weren’t already another man who had your heart, another man who you longed for.
Instead you wait for your father, to walk you down the aisle of the absurdly expensive wedding they’d planned. The glint of the huge emerald on your ring finger in the reflection in the mirror makes your stomach ache as you think back to Draco’s words to you the night before.
“I’m sorry (y/n), for everything.”
He’d hugged you as he would a friend, his own pain transmitted through the contact you both needed. His words were sincere, however you couldn’t help but think they possibly had a double meaning.
It’s time, your father smiles, happy he’d successfully married off his daughter, your heart races, scared for what your future holds. Draco stands at the end of the aisle, his platinum hair styled to perfection, his suit pressed and fitted; handsome as ever.
You can’t remember the walk, all you can hear is the blood flowing through your ears and Draco’s pained smile as your father gives you away. The ceremony passes in a blur, every thought in your head is a scream for help.
“Draco Malfoy, do you take (y/n) (y/l/n) to be your wife?”
This brings you back to reality, his eyes stare deep into your soul and with his hand squeezing yours, you somehow know everything will be okay.
“I do….not.”
There were many loud gasps, one of them being your own. With a final squeeze of your hand and another quite apology in your ear, he was running down the aisle to meet none other than Astoria Greengrass. The two of them running like hell to the nearest apparation point as you hold back laughter.
“What a turn of events!”
Harry pulled off his invisibility cloak, revealing himself to every guest, the plan you’d had for escape down the drain as another collective gasp was heard.
“Malfoy just had to steal my thunder. Would it really kill him to lose the spotlight for once? I mean damn, how often does one get to crash their girlfriends wedding.”
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andifnotheisstillgood · 6 days ago
Had a terrible interview today
I've been trying to get a summer job before college starts and i finally was offered an interview at a fast food place after numerous applications . I was so excited (mostly because this will be my first job interview ever). My interview was scheduled at 10am so i arrived at 9.45am to be early. I went into the fast food place and asked for the hiring manager, that was when i was told all the interviews will be held upstairs. I'm not going to lie i was really shocked when i saw about 20 people waiting in a hallway not large enough for that number. Seats cramped together as everyone struggled to find a place to sit. I don't know if its normal for employers to give that many people the same time slot. I didnt really mind as long as i would be attended to on time it was fine by me. I waited for about 30 minutes and one of the members of the hiring team went around gathering CVs. I thought we might start getting called individually but nothing happened. I ended up waiting for about 2 hours and the "hiring manager" still hadn't arrived. I would have waited much longer because i dont have anything planned for today but i started having unbearable stomach cramps and the tight hallway wasn't helping. I called my mom to explain what was going on and she told me to go to the hospital. I told the same person who collected my CV i had to leave for the hospital and he told me to write my name down and reapply. I know im most likely not going to get any reschedule date for the interview and i am not sure if i want to reapply because im going to visit my family who live in another state this month or next. I'll wait to college to get another job most likely but i cant stop feeling bad , i was so excited and my mom gave me something to wear. She also gave me some interview tips and it sucks cause i let her down. This was my first ever experience trying to get a job and the only thing that ran through my head as i waited was how I'll always be here. Here meaning in some room waiting for an interview, i know its not the worst thing but right now i dont think i can see myself doing this till i retire. But what choice do i have? Start my own business? Become an 'influencer'? I hope i dont sound like an ungrateful brat because im aware of how many people really need jobs and im complaining about waiting after being given an opportunity.
submitted by /u/Positive-Tea-917 [link] [comments] from Jobs
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ekosystem · 6 days ago
Kid30 interview
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- Tell us a few words about yourself. When and how did you discover graffiti? Did you paint letters before starting your character project. I write kid30 and am based in Nottingham UK , I also produce commercial work (graphic design, mural work) under the name smallkid. I remember as a kid always buying copies of Graphotism and Big daddy magazine and reading them over and over trying to work out how the fuck the pieces were painted. I used to paint banners for the free parties and  raves in the 90s but mainly used paint and brushes as it was quite hard to get hold of spray paint where I lived. It wasn’t until later on I started painting with a can properly when I moved to Nottingham around 1998 / 1999 that I  really got into it, Notts had a really strong scene at the time and had a  new paint shop that had opened (coverage), also the street art movement was just exploding at the time that massively interested me. I started producing flyers for a lot of the raves in the city at the time and often used to use graffiti based images for these which got me connected with different writers as I would use bits of their work or go out with them when they painted. I then started running paint walls at the parties which went on to running bigger paint jams in the city.
I do paint the occasional letters but its not something I get on with in the same way as characters. I have always been more focused and interested in characters, even as a kid with subway art and spray can art copying all the characters in it more than the letters.
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- The sources for your characters are various : cartoons, US Comics, Franco-Belgian comics. Are you a big comic book reader ? What are your favorite comics ? I grew up with out a TV so didn’t get to watch many programs and the bits I did see I couldn’t remember which were from which or only got to watch bits If I went to friends houses , so yer I did read a lot of comics. I was mainly into Tintin and Asterix as a kid Which I think are still my favourites along with anything by Matt Groening. This is one of the reasons for cutting characters  now as I was always a bit unsure as to which cartoon characters were which and what cartoons they were from, often finding myself pretending I had watched shows when I actually had no idea what they were.
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- Are you thinking about using characters from other universes like mangas or video games ? I’m currently back drawing a load more of my own characters again but have also started watching and researching other styles so will see what happens I try not to have to much of  plan so it doesn’t restrict what the end goal is. I keep thinking its run its course painting these mash up / Frankenstein characters but they are quick and easy to paint and I’m still having fun with them, I started painting them when I had a kid and still wanted to paint but was restricted to how much time I could go painting for and this style allowed me to do this.
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- According to your website you took part in two collectives: ShrunkenHeads, OxygenThieves. Can you tell us a bit about them ? Oxygen thieves is a crew I joined in about 2000 ,  with artists : Deam, Kaption One, Dregs, Mobs and myself We used to paint all the time , but all of us have had kids now and some of us have moved away So we don’t all get to paint together that often , I still work with Kaption One on the commercial work and we do all meet up  for curries and the occasional paint. I was really lucky to have been invited into this crew as it pushed me as a writer and had some amazing experiences that will stay with me forever.
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Shrunken heads was a collective born out of studio we took over for a a few years ago above a carpet shop called Switch studios It is Ging, Boaster and myself, it was a mix of illustration work, canvas work and graffiti. We build a bar in the studio  and ran speak easy events in it for a few years Where we hosted a lot of local and international street art shows.
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- Are there any other graffiti writers or artist from Nottingham you could recommend us to check the work ? Nottingham although quite a small city does have a rich culture for graffiti Some names worth checking out are Kapt, Mobs, Ging, Boaster, Sorry, ILC crew , TMS crew , Dilk, Cruel, RTN, Creak, WFC, Idle, Daes, Kage, Form, Enks, Ego Warrior, Carrot boy, Silly, Timo sure I’ve missed load more working checking but there are a few.
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- And to conclude is there a track that you have listened to repeatedly last weeks ? Rudeboy Lovesong (feat. Sweetie Irie and Cara Delevingne) (Voltage Remix)
Discover more from Kid30 on his website and on Instagram.
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youreapaininthejack · 6 days ago
Okay so I've been tossing this idea for an au around in my head. (It's definitely a rhack au)
So it's more of a modern style au.
Sirens exist in higher numbers at a time
Sirens aren't strictly female but significantly less likely to be male
Hospitals are required to report if a baby born is a Siren so they can be collected, so many Sirens on the base tend to be raised there.
They are considered dangerous to the public due to fear mongering
There are attempts at making artificial ones for government use, but only 1 was ever successful. Unfortunately that one escaped and most of the team had been killed so recreation hasn't gone well.
Now onto the main idea of he au:
Jack works in said facility, mostly assisting in the testing of Sirens.
His wife has been pregnant and decides she wants to do a home birth. They do. The baby is a siren (Angel) and the mother dies in childbirth. Jack in a panic, killed the home nurse who attempts to call in a Siren and makes it look like he also died in the incident. He takes the baby and runs.
While on the run he meets none other than Rhys, the artificial Siren created by by his old job. After introducing himself Rhys helps Jack find a secret underground city filled with Siren's. Jack is surprised because he didn't realize there was so many of them hidden away.
Jack is relieved none of them seem to recognize him, including one who he knows he's seen. There is a few other people there that aren't Siren's and he's asked to work with them to help get supplies since it's much safer for them to wander out.
Over time he makes friends and him and Rhys fall for each other. He eventually comes clean about the job he used to do to Rhys who grows wary but doesn't tell because he doesn't want Angel to be kicked out with Jack.
Jack makes all kind of efforts to start planning a way to allow Siren's to not have to be in hiding, and Rhys appreciates that Jack genuinely has changed his ways and started to do better. Everyone actually even starts to believe Jack is right and they might be able to starts a revolution that allows them to stop hiding.
Cue in Lilith. She appears and eveyone but Jack is super excited to see who apperantly was their leader before she had been caught a few years back. She seems not to notice Jack or care about him being there until the middle on the night the next day.
She approaches and ask if anyone knows, and he tells her no one knows about him. She tells him to leave or she would tell everyone what he used to do for a job. He almost agrees before she tells him he can't take Angel with him before it would be unfair to take her away from a safe place.
This cues one of the multiple places this story could go.
He leaves Angel with Rhys, swearing he would be back to free everyone.
He leaves and takes Angel and Rhys, where they lives a mildly dangerous life until some new event happens.
He refuses to leave and Lilith announces who is is, and he is run from the city. In response he grows bitter and reports the city's location, regaining his job and an even better position. Sad end because he 1. lies and claims he was kidnapped. 2. Rhys won't talk to him anymore.
He announces his own crimes to everyone before Lilith can, and it turns out they don't care or let him stay on thin ice the way Rhys did originally, until he remains their trust and they all go have a peak revolution one day.
It's not perfectly fleshed out, so ignore he plot holes. But WOOOO. It's been rattling around for a hot minute now and I am already living for he idea.
I guess you could do a no romance one, but I'm always a slut for Rhack.
Anyway if anyone uses this concept pls tell me bc I would def want to see it.
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spydre · 6 days ago
Impossible Dream
(game date: 6/3/2021)
Now that time is not such a pressing concern, perhaps I can collect my thoughts and record events properly.  That last entry was sloppy, to say the least.  
Preparations were frantic, to put it mildly.  
My father's emergency statement had been hijacked.  The transmission ended before he could finish, and was replaced by an image of him in his office, claiming that the prior transmission was entirely falsified.  Under other circumstances, I feel certain that I could have done battle in this arena of high-tek propaganda and emerged the victor, but in the here-and-now, I had neither the time nor the energy to spare.  I satisfied myself with checking with Parker that they were still safe (the vids left their fate in question), and continued our prep work.
Deny the SunBabies power
I asked Ryatt to throw together some propaganda of our own, using the video from the fashion festival.  Plenty of cameras caught the transformations of people to wraiths.  He nabbed the popular "Imaginet is coming!" image off the Matrix, along with the perky ad-voice, and patched on a gravelly multi-voice "FOR YOU" right afterward, over each transformation vid.  These got scattered all over the Matrix.  If that didn't counter the idea that SunTek's product was just fine, I don't know what would.
For good measure, I leaked the ImagiNet technical specs.  Not many people would actually understand them, but those who did could confirm that something was very, very wrong with them.  There was, of course, a danger that some other bright but misguided soul could exploit that design as I had, but in the moment, I felt that the benefit outweighed the risk.
Discourage Border Patrol from opposing us
While he worked on that, I pieced together an infodump intended for the Border Patrol.  Some of them were bound to be loyal to Katrya, but we had no idea how many, and I hoped to give the rest a show over their comm channels that would turn their stomachs.  Every snippet of video detailing Stone and Bennet's exploits at Chystari, along with the audio detailing their plans for cyborg soldiers, went into that compilation.  Fortunately, most of it had already been indexed (thank you, Parker), otherwise the task would be impossible at this hour.  By the time that was done, both of us were ready to break into the BP comms & security systems, reserving a path for the package.  While in the system, I learned the truth about Katrya's discharge, and the events leading up to the bounty on her head.
Regain some strength
I tried to nap then, but couldn't manage it.  It's always difficult to quiet my mind, even under the best of conditions, and now, with the knowledge that every passing second was crucial, it was impossible to rest.  So I fiddled with a C-Cell, remembering that last-ditch idea  just before Gipson blasted me across the room.  Frowning, I concentrated...
The battery's display lit up, and instantly flipped from "10" to "2."  My sinuses cleared, my heartbeat double-timed, and I nearly had a panic attack.  I may have yelped.  Aru's mother entered the room, concern on her face, asking whether I needed anything.  "A dose of common sense, maybe," I told her, which probably didn't calm the woman.  She raced off, and came back with Vamir.  
Try to hold it together
After I reassured everyone that I would live, Vamir asked for my input regarding his potion launcher.  He'd never had the best of luck using the thing - the design was solid, but he simply wasn't well-trained with that sort of weapon.  Still, he had three flasks of paralytic gas ready to go, and I had to agree that this could be a critical asset in the upcoming battle.  So who, he asked, should use it?
I slipped into my "management" persona.  The kids, driving their drones, were absolutely the best shots, but unpredictable during battle - they'd proven this when we had the Silver Bullets.  After that, it came down to me, my drone Ŝtelita, or Varfana.  I suggested that Varfana take it, mainly because I wanted her more involved in a key role, and to get her mind off her shop and employees, and why don't we see if she's awake and agreeable to that?
We re-entered the altar room together.  Most of the group was there, and yes, Varfana was willing to take charge of spreading dangerous paralytic gas.  Like me, Katrya had not rested.  She had spent the time pumping Ama for more information.  
"Zeke, you need to hear this."  She impatiently gestured to the avatar, still floating over the center altar.  "Ama.  Tell him what you tell me."
The figure turned to face me.  "Council Leader Ron Gipson is the same Gipson who caused the Fall; the cataclysm which forced everyone underground."
"All right."  To all appearances, Gipson is human, and they don't usually have two-thousand year lifespans, but this was hardly the strangest thing I had ever heard.
"Wait, there is more," Katrya said.  "Go on."
Ama continued.  ""Together with the SunChildren, Gipson destabilized the enchantments holding the floating continents of Ilvantar aloft, causing them to crash to the ground and destroy a Pattern, causing major destruction and releasing massive amounts of magical radiation."
"What--" I began.
"A Pattern has many functions, but is primarily used for transportation across large distances, and contains an extremely powerful magical item as its power source."
Katrya was grinning.  "Tell him the tactics."
"I recommend that anyone who does not already have such, acquire night-vision eyewear.  Children of the Sun are severely weakened in sufficient darkness.  That is their only known weakness, however.  They have a number of immunities and resistances."
Minor breakdown
I was silent for a while.  The reality of the task before us had suddenly hit me, and my recent adrenaline rush crashed.
We, all of us, were woefully unprepared for something like this.  We've been told these stories about the Samaritans, these mighty heroes who saved the world.  And in the end they fell to Gipson - the same one, Ama confirmed, that we were about to face.  He has had, what?  2000 years to build strength?  We've only been at this a few months.  The Samaritans destroyed one Sunbaby.  We had to neutralize three, that we knew of.  We just weren't ready.
And I couldn't say this, to anyone.  Because that would be demoralizing.  They needed a pep talk, not a pity party.  I sat down.
"Zeke?" Katrya questioned.
Right.  Work to do.  "Umm.  Darkness.  Night vision.  Somebody...find out who doesn't already have that, and send out a drone to shop."  I rubbed my eyes, trying to think.  "And, I guess, if we have any favors with anyone, now's the time to call them in."
I felt a tiny hand on my shoulder.  
EllieRocks, the ten-year-old pop star, said, "You need cheering up.  C'mon."
I managed a feeble smile.  "Where are we going?"
"Someplace with better acoustics."
She trotted out of the altar room, leading the way to the mansion's grand ballroom.   I suppose she must have hooked into the house A/V system, or else the acoustics in that room were astounding.  Music began to play, something with a bouncy, upbeat tempo typical of her genre.  And then she sang.
I have a confession:  Prior to the blood drive benefit concert, I had never heard this girl, nor anyone her age, perform.  After our long association, one may naturally expect a tolerance.  After witnessing the miracle of limb regeneration, I developed a true appreciation.  But I cannot begin to describe this experience.  It felt as if her song was, not a description of a better world, but by virtue of her singing, she was defining the world the way it ought to be.  She was redefining everyone in that room, which included the entire team and a good portion of the household staff, as better, more capable people.  When the closing notes echoed into silence, several of us were dancing, and I felt my mind washed clean of all doubts.  
Of course we would emerge victorious.  No other outcome was possible.
When everyone made their calls, to allies, or family, it was not to say possible last goodbyes, or to beg for help.  It was to say, "You will want to be a part of this.  And, if you can't, then tune in and watch.  It's going to be glorious."
(to be continued)
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