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proxima-writes · 9 months

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the old college try

pairing: frat dad!joel miller x college student!female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 5.1k

summary:

Family Weekend, or DILF Day as you and your friends like to refer to it, is when the University of Texas encourages the parents and families of its student body to visit the school and participate in activities that the Division of Student Affairs has organized. The fraternities and sororities have their own schedule that includes not-so-sanctioned house parties on frat row following the game. It’s your senior year and your last DILF Day so you’re hoping to go out with a bang. Literally. Enter Joel Miller, handsome single dad visiting his son at the Theta Lambda Upsilon fraternity house.

dear reader:

this is an extremely self-indulgent fic that i just had to write, so i hope you enjoy it! if you do, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging <3

content warnings:

explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), alternate universe - no outbreak/no sarah, age difference (42M and 23F), dub con - sex under the influence of alcohol, no use of y/n, frat party stereotypes, keg stands and beer pong, semi-public sex (frat bathroom), mild daddy kink (not during sex), p in v, oral sex (f receiving), dirty talk, cheesy dad jokes, the university of texas as a plot device. please let me know if any are missing!

You turn over in your bed with a deep groan, burying your face into your pillow. You reach your arm out from under the covers to grab your phone from the nightstand, smacking your hand around the wood surface until you find it and can bring it under the covers with you. Turning over, you tap the screen and squint at the series of unread text messages.

Ashley: Get up bitch!

Ashley: It’s time to get ready!

Ashley: We’re going to be late if you don’t get up

Ashley: Don’t make me break into your apartment

Ashley: You know I can

You sit up quickly, shoving the blankets off of you and rushing to the front door, flipping the lock and pulling it open. Your best friend is across the threshold, knelt down on the ground with two bobby pins held up and her eyes wide in surprise.

“Aw man,” she laments, standing and brushing off her knees. “I wanted to test my skills.”

“I’m not paying to replace the lock,” you chastise, stepping back to let her in. “Sorry, overslept.”

“Figured. I’ll get your coffee started,” she replies, heading for your kitchen while you head back to your bedroom to start your morning routine. “Guess which frat is hosting the tailgate today?”

“Which one?” You shout from the bathroom as you run through your skincare routine.

“Theta Lambda Upsilon,” Ashley shouts back. The scent of brewing coffee paired with this excellent news has you perking up immediately.

Your friend steps into your room with two mugs in her hands, passing one to you as you exit the bathroom and sit at your cluttered vanity, pushing aside products to make room to set your mug down. Ashley sits on your bed, folding her legs beneath her.

“The hottest frat hosting the tailgate and after party means we’ll get to see the hottest dads this weekend,” she says, shimmying her shoulders excitedly. “It’s simple genetics.”

“You dropped genetics. Remember? You couldn’t handle an 8 am class,” you say as you apply mascara.

“I went to enough classes to know how a Punnett square works.”

You laugh, finishing your makeup between long sips of coffee. “It’s amazing you couldn’t tough it out through an early semester but give you an afternoon game and you’re trying to break into my apartment at the crack of dawn.”

“It’s DILF Day, baby. It’s like waking up on Christmas morning.”

As an out-of-state student, your parents have always skipped Family Weekend in exchange for buying your plane tickets back home for Thanksgiving and Christmas break, which leaves you with plenty of opportunity to ogle the hot dads that descend upon campus on this glorious weekend. You’ve never had the guts to actually pursue anything with anyone, but it’s your senior year and your last DILF Day so you’re hoping to go out with a bang.

Literally.

“What are you going to wear?” Ashley asks.

“Shorts and that new tank top I got,” you reply, finishing your makeup with a pop of your lips after applying gloss. “And boots. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Ashley nods as you rifle through your closet for the outfit in question - denim cutoffs and orange Texas Longhorn tank top that hugs your curves and shows off the perfect amount of cleavage. Finishing the look with your worn brown cowgirl boots, you spin for your friend who gives you a thumbs up. “Sexy. I reckon’ this year you’ll catch yourself a DILF.”

You roll your eyes. “Maybe. We’ll see.”

Joel’s arm hangs out the truck’s open window, fingers tapping against the hot metal as he drives down the highway towards the Austin campus of the University of Texas. It’s Family Weekend and his son, Sean, started his sophomore semester at UT a few weeks prior and now lives in the Theta Lambda Upsilon fraternity house on campus after proving to Joel that he would take his classes seriously by doing well his freshman year. Joel’s always been close with his son as a single dad and the fact that Sean asked him to Family Weekend feels like a testament to that bond.

The campus is already bustling with the game day crowd, trucks parked in grassy areas along the road with their tailgates down, people setting up tents and tables and coolers. Joel drives slowly down the street until he’s turning down a side road and parking down the hidden drive his son had given him instructions to find. He hops from the truck, sneakers hitting the hot pavement and the sun already beating down on his arms as he makes his way towards the TLU house a couple blocks away.

There’s a huge crowd of students and parents in shades of burnt orange and white on the front lawn of the two story fraternity house, red solo cups or cans of beer in hand. Joel looks around until he hears a familiar voice calling out, “Dad!”

Sean emerges from the crowd dressed in a white polo shirt with an orange Longhorn logo on the chest tucked into khaki pants, his curly brown hair slicked back with gel. Joel smiles, hugging his son and patting him on the back in greeting.

“Been ages since I saw you, kid. Have you gotten taller?” Joel asks.

Sean rolls his eyes. “You saw me last weekend!”

A voice calls out Sean’s name and the younger man throws an arm around Joel’s shoulders, dragging him along into the packed fraternity house. The scene inside is not unlike all the ones he’s seen in movies and TV shows - flags stuck to the walls as decor, a mysteriously sticky floor, and kitchen countertops filled with booze. Sean stops and grabs a red plastic cup, handing it to Joel.

“Pick your poison,” Sean instructs, grabbing his own cup. Joel raises an eyebrow at him.

“Last I checked, you weren’t twenty-one,” he chastises, earning him another eye roll.

“Like you didn’t know Uncle Tommy was buying me beer when I was a senior.”

“He what?” Joel asks, though the question is lost in the noise as Sean leads him to an impressive back deck hosting a beer pong table and two kegs nestled in plastic trash cans and surrounded by ice.

Sean slips into the crowd surrounding the kegs, taking Joel’s cup from his hands, pumping the tap and filling each cup with ice cold beer, handing one to Joel.

“Go Longhorns,” Sean says, tapping his cup to Joel’s and chugging the contents. Joel watches his twenty-year-old son with wide eyes and a torn conscience.

“This is what I’m payin’ tuition for, huh?” He teases, taking a single sip of the cheap beer. A cheer erupts from behind him and he turns to look at what’s causing so much excitement.

You and a friend are at one end of a plastic folding table, glaring daggers at two boys at the other end, a single solo cup set on the table in front of you. You have a white ping pong ball held delicately between two fingers, your other hand propped on your hip as you squint one eye shut to take your aim for the cup that sits in front of the boys. You let the ball fly and it sinks into the cup, another cheer going through the small crowd gathered around you as you jump up and down excitedly.

Sean approaches the boys, slapping one of them on the shoulder. One of them shouts, “Redemption shot!”

“Oh, please! You can’t aim for shit, Chad!” You shout back.

“Celebrity shot, then!” He suggests. The boy, Chad, reaches out to pull an older man to his side. “Dad edition!”

Your eyes scan the crowd, landing on Joel. You wave him over, the older man glancing around briefly before pointing to himself to confirm. You nod, smile bright as he approaches.

“I need a daddy for this celebrity shot, you wanna do the honors?” You ask sweetly. Joel swallows nervously, face heating at the suggestive tone and look you’re giving him.

“Come on, dad!” Sean calls out. “Show ‘em what a Miller man can do!”

“Yeah,” you chime in. “Show me what a Miller man can do.”

“Alright, fine,” Joel acquiesces, moving to stand beside you. You slip a ping pong ball into his hand, standing so close beside him that your bare arm brushes his as you both watch Chad’s dad take aim for the single cup.

The ball soars through the air, hitting the rim of the cup and bouncing off onto the table, rolling to the ground as the men groan. He feels you place a hand on his shoulder, your lips close to his ear as you whisper, “Come on, Mr. Miller. You’re my only hope.”

It doesn’t escape Joel’s notice that you keep your hand on his shoulder as he takes aim and throws the ball across the table, sinking it into the cup. You’re throwing your arms around his shoulders in celebration as the people around you shout excitedly. On instinct, Joel’s arms wrap around your waist, holding you close for a brief moment before coming to his senses and taking a step back.

“Thanks,” you say, looking up at him through your lashes. “I’m going to go inside for a drink. You want anything? I’ve got a stash of IPAs in a friend’s fridge upstairs if you want something better than Miller Lite. Consider it a thank you for winning me bragging rights over Chad.”

Joel should say no. He shouldn’t be taking up drink offers from someone half his age, but you’re giving him another devastating smile that has his resolve folding faster than a lawn chair in a hurricane.

“Sure.”

The hottest man you’ve ever seen is currently following you upstairs to your friend Craig’s room for a beer. He’s tall and tan with sweet brown eyes and dark hair that looks like it would be a dream to run your fingers through. His broad chest and toned biceps press deliciously at the confines of the white UT Longhorns shirt he’s wearing. When he stepped up beside you to throw your celebrity shot at the beer pong table downstairs, you’d noted that his left hand featured no wedding band or a tan line of one left behind.

You reach the second floor and head for the last door on the right, marked with a PRESIDENT plaque. You reach into the pocket for the key Craig had given you earlier and let yourself inside, heading for the mini fridge in the corner and grabbing two Yellow Rose IPA cans.

“So,” you say, handing the man one of the drinks. “You got a name, or should I keep calling you Mr. Miller?”

“It’s Joel,” he says, taking a long sip of the beer. You watch the muscles of his throat work, longing to press your lips against the tan skin.

You tell him your name, holding a hand out to him for a handshake. His grip is tight, sturdy, and for a brief moment you think about how his sure, thick fingers would feel deep inside of you. He looks around the room curiously as he pulls his hand back.

“Craig and I have been friends since freshman year,” you explain. “I helped him pass calculus, he lets me keep my beer out of the grubby hands of his frat brothers.”

“Calculus, huh?” He asks, taking another sip. “Must mean you’re pretty smart.”

“Just a basic engineering prerequisite,” you joke.

“Engineering? That’s impressive.”

You take a seat on Craig’s bed, crossing one leg over the other. Joel’s eyes track the movement and you smile, giddy at the attention. “What do you do, Mr. Miller?”

“Thought you were gonna call me Joel?”

“Mm, I can think of a few things to call you.”

Joel nearly spits his mouthful of beer out, choking on the bitter drink. You rush towards him, patting him on the back as he coughs. After a moment of fighting for breath, the man seems to realize how close you are, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips, trailing down to your chest.

You lean in a little closer, pressing yourself to him and you think this might be it, Joel Miller might be the DILF of your dreams as he leans into you as well.

But the doorknob rattles and the door swings open, Joel jumping back in surprise as both of you turn to look at the doorway. Craig leans against the frame, an eyebrow raised and a knowing smirk on his lips. You roll your eyes.

“Hey,” he says, looking between you and Joel. “Ashley’s lookin’ for you downstairs. We’re headin’ to the stadium now.”

“I better find Sean, then,” Joel says. Craig’s eyes light up.

“You’re Miller’s dad? Hey, man, nice to finally meet you. I’m Craig, TLU president.” The men shake hands, patting each other on the back. “Sean’s a good kid, we’re happy to have him.”

“Good to hear,” Joel replies.

“Well, guess I’ll go find Ashley.” You place a hand on Joel’s shoulder. “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Miller. Maybe I’ll see you later?” You let your hand trail down the man’s bicep as you leave and you watch his throat work around a nervous swallow.

“Yeah, sure,” he says. “See you later.”

The Longhorns pull off an impressive win, a 49-0 blowout against Oklahoma that has the entire campus celebrating with abandon. If Joel thought the TLU house was packed for the tailgate, that crowd was nothing compared to the after game party. More alcohol, more people, and more noise is packed into the house. Joel sticks close to Sean, meeting more of his frat brothers and their parents with shouted introductions.

When the stale air inside the house gets too overwhelming, Sean leads him to the deck. More kegs have appeared and his son bumps him with his shoulder, nodding towards where a few people are gathered around one, a man hoisted upside down by two people gripping his legs as he chugs directly from the keg tap. He spits the valve out as the crowd shouts a chorus of, “Twenty!”

“I bet you could do better,” Sean says. Joel raises an eyebrow at him.

“I know what you’re doin’, kid, and it ain’t gonna work,” Joel replies. Sean puts his hands up.

“I’m not doin’ anythin’. But if you’re too scared, you can tell me.”

“I’m not scared.”

“Hey, my dad’s got next!” Sean shouts, dragging Joel through the crowd with an arm around his shoulders. Joel tries to argue but a familiar face in the crowd has the words dying on his tongue. You wiggle your fingers at him in a wave and suddenly he has the motivation to execute the most impressive keg stand of his life.

Joel grabs the cold handles of the keg, Sean and one of his fraternity brothers lifting him into the air so that he’s suspended upside down over the barrel of beer. People begin counting, shouting numbers as he attempts to focus on the beer flooding his mouth and drinking it down steadily. It’s been a long time since he’s done one of these, probably before Sean was even born, but if there’s one thing Joel has never been, it's a quitter.

After what feels like forever he spits the valve out with a gasp and he gets lowered back to ground as the crowd shouts, “Thirty-four!”

Sean’s frat brothers jump around him excitedly, hands patting him on the back and cheering his name. He laughs as Sean starts yelling, “That’s what I’m fuckin’ talkin’ about!”

Movement from the corner of his eye catches his attention and he turns his head just in time to see you disappear into the house. He tells Sean he’ll be back in a minute and follows after you, craning his neck to scan the mass of bodies crammed inside until he spots you on the stairs.

When he finally manages to reach the stairs, he’s surprised to find them roped off at the bottom. Looking around to make sure no one is paying attention to him, he ducks beneath the barrier, taking the steps two at a time. The second floor is dark and empty but light spills into a hall from beneath the last door marked PRESIDENT.

Joel knocks on the wood, his head a little light from the rush of alcohol in his system but it has him feeling good.

Confident.

Maybe a little too confident because when you open the door, he wraps an arm around your waist, pushing his way inside as his lips find yours, a little noise of surprise swallowed by him as his tongue explores yours.

He comes to his senses when your teeth nip at his bottom lip, jarring him back to a reality where he is a mature adult who thinks with his brain and not his dick. He grips you on the shoulders, breaking the kiss and holding you at arm's length.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t even ask if it was okay to kiss you, just came bargin’ in here like a bull in a goddamn china shop and you probably don’t even want—“

“Joel?” You interrupt. He blinks.

“Yeah?” He asks.

“Kiss me again.”

Joel kisses you again, but pulls away a second time to ask, “Wait, how old are you?”

“Twenty-three,” you reply, giggling as he mutters a low thank god before pulling you back into his arms. It’s another short lived kiss, the man leaning back once more as you huff in annoyance.

“Wait, how much have you had to drink?” He asks this time.

“Less than you, Mr. Thirty-Four-Second Keg Stand,” you answer. He gives you a smirk that has your stomach doing somersaults.

“You liked that, huh?”

His hands slip into the back pockets of your shorts and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. He kisses you again, slower this time, like he’s savoring the feel of your lips against his. Your heart is racing as he pulls you even closer and runs his hands up your back, warm palms exploring your curves like he’s trying to map them to memory.

You’re lost enough in each other that the sound of the door opening doesn’t register until an upset voice is saying, “Ugh, come on! No fucking in my room!”

“Shit,” you yelp, tearing yourself away from Joel. Craig is standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. You grab Joel’s hand and tug him towards the door of the en-suite bathroom, pulling him inside and slamming the door behind you, flipping the lock.

“Hey, wait a minute—“

“It’s not your room, Craig!” You yell through the wood. There’s a muffled curse from the other side.

“Condoms are under the sink,” he shouts back. You grin victoriously at Joel, who’s laughing so hard he has a hand pressed to his chest. You step up to him, grabbing that hand and bringing it around your waist.

“You sure about this?” Joel asks seriously, stepping forward until he’s crowding you against the door. You tilt your head up to look at his handsome face, his dark eyes so intense as he searches your face that you feel giddy.

“I mean, the location isn’t ideal, but at least Craig keeps his bathroom pretty clean,” you joke, noting the clear counter space and surprising lack of dirty clothing littering the floor.

“Answer the question, sweetheart. You sure about doing this with me?”

You reach up, tangling your fingers into his soft curls, pulling him close until your lips graze his as you respond, “I’m so fucking sure.”

Whatever tether of control Joel had been holding onto seems to snap with your words, the man kissing you so roughly that all you can do is hold on, your fingers curling desperately against his scalp as his tongue dives into your mouth and tangles with yours. He tastes like beer and smells like a mixture of cedar and sweat, the combination intoxicating as he presses close and surrounds you with it.

Joel trails his lips across your jaw, nipping your earlobe before continuing down your neck. He sucks the thin skin over your pulse before soothing the sting with his tongue as you writhe against him, gasping at the sensation. You can feel his smile against your shoulder and as he presses a thigh between your legs, you get a brief feel of his hard cock behind the barrier of his basketball shorts.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he growls, hands trailing across your curves until he’s gripping one of your breasts, squeezing tightly.

“Not so bad yourself,” you moan. He chuckles darkly.

“The mouth on you.” He reaches two fingers into the low neck of your tank top, dragging it down over your breasts. He yanks the cups of your bra down in a similar fashion, the fabric bunched beneath your chest to expose your tight nipples to him. He dips his head down and wraps his lips around a tight bud, pulling it into his mouth as you gasp.

“Could show you some other things my mouth is good at,” you tell him as he releases your breast with a wet pop, lifting his head to look at you.

“I have a better idea,” he says, dropping to his knees. He lifts one of your legs and wiggles your boot off, tossing it to the side before doing the same with the other.

“What are you doing?” You ask when his hands reach for the fly of your shorts. He pauses, looking up at you with concern.

“I was plannin’ on eatin’ you out until you couldn’t think straight,” he says. His brows pinch together. “Do you not want that?”

“I-I’m not sure? I mean, no one’s ever…,” your sentence trails off, your eyes going wide.

Joel runs a soothing hand down your thigh, smiling up at you. “That’s a damn shame, baby. Let me show you how a real man takes care of a woman.”

You let him work your shorts and panties down your thighs, stepping out of them with a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself. He lifts one of your legs and settles it over his shoulder, opening you up to his hungry gaze. His eyes flick up to your face and he grins as he says, “Pretty all over, aren’t ya?”

Any smart reply you have died on your tongue as he starts kissing the sensitive skin of your thighs, starting at the knee that’s close to his face and moving up, up, up until you can feel his warm breath on your pussy. His tongue flicks across your clit, featherlight, but it’s enough to have you gasping his name.

He starts a rhythm of messy swirls of his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves before dipping down to your entrance, the tip of his nose still brushing your clit and making you moan. You buck against his face and he immediately grasps your hips in his big hands, fingers curling into the flesh of your ass to hold you still as he lavishes your pussy with attention.

“Oh my god,” you pant, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair. He groans at the same time his lips wrap around your clit and the sound of his satisfaction has your orgasm taking you by surprise, washing through your veins and making you feel like you’re on fire.

You feel breathless as he licks you slowly, thoroughly, his tongue making sure he’s gotten every last drop of your release. He leans back, slowly lowering your leg from his shoulder. His lips and chin are coated in your wetness, shiny in the light of the bathroom vanity, the sight making your cheeks feel hot and a nervous giggle spill free.

Joel grins, boyish and sweet. “Good?” He asks.

“Great. Amazing,” you concur. “Ten out of ten. Your Yelp review will be glowing.”

“Shouldn't I be the one leavin’ the Yelp review? You were the meal after all.”

You blink at him. “Oh my god, that was so bad,” you say, laughter near hysterical.

He stands, his palms cupping your face and pulling you into a filthy kiss that quickly shuts you up, his tongue slowly exploring yours and introducing the musky taste of yourself to your taste buds. You reach down, palming his hard cock through his shorts and the responding groan you receive from the older man has you clenching in anticipation.

Joel breaks the kiss, pulling you against his body and turning until you’re facing the vanity, your hips pressed to the edge of the laminate counter. You watch his reflection in the mirror as he runs a hand down your back, pressing you forward slightly so that you’re bent over the counter, ass slightly tilted up. His hand continues lower until it’s running reverently over one cheek. He catches your eye in the mirror.

“You gonna let me fuck you just like this?” He asks. Your breath hitches as his fingers trace through your folds, one dipping into your entrance. He watches your face in the mirror, eyes dark and expression serious. “Answer me.”

“Fuck, yes, anything,” you say quickly. He thrusts his finger slowly, curling it against your front wall with every pull from your body. One finger becomes two, the slight stretch making you whine as he continues to work them in and out of you. “Joel, please.”

“Please what, baby?” He asks.

“Need you to fuck me,” you tell him.

Joel grins, removing his fingers and urging you to the side so he can open the cabinet under the sink. He crouches down, rummaging through the contents for a moment before standing with a victorious expression and a foil packet pinched between his fingers. He shoves his basketball shorts and boxers down his thighs, just low enough to free his impressive cock, thick and long with a slight curve up that has your mouth watering. He rolls the condom on and then grabs your hips, the tip of his length sliding through your folds and making your breath catch.

“You ready, baby?” He asks, squeezing your hips. You meet his gaze in the reflection, your lips tilted in a smirk.

“Been ready for a while, old man,” you tease. He raises his eyebrows and draws his hand back, landing a sharp smack to your ass that has you crying out.

Before the sting even fades, he’s pushing inside of you with one steady thrust until his hips are flush to your ass. Your fingers curl around the edge of the counter and you lift onto your tiptoes, trying to escape the sudden sensation of his cock stretching you so well. He chuckles darkly, tight hands on your hips keeping you from going too far.

“Old man,” he taunts, mimicking the higher pitch of your voice. He reaches forward, palm resting beneath your chin as his fingers and thumb press into your cheeks, tilting your head up so that your eyes meet his in the mirror as he says, “Eyes up, sweetheart. You watch how this old man fucks you.”

Joel draws his hips back and slams forward, the head of his cock burying so deep inside of you that your eyes roll back from the exquisite stretch and pressure. He sets a rhythm that has a constant string of moans and pleas spilling from your parted lips, a slow pull out and a rough push in that makes you see stars. If you dare to let your chin drop or your eyes shut, the strong hand around your throat reminds you of his demand that you watch.

“That feel good, baby?” He grunts. “My cock in this tight fuckin’ pussy?”

“Yes, yes, yes!”

“That’s right, who’s fuckin’ you so good? Say my name, sweetheart, wanna hear it from that pretty mouth.”

“Joel!” You cry out, the tight coil of pleasure in your belly finally unraveling, your cunt pulsing greedily around his cock as you cum. He curses, his rhythm going sloppy as he fucks you through your release and right into his own.

His hand leaves your throat and his head drops to your shoulder, soft kisses being left on your shoulder blades as you both catch your breath. After a long moment, he pulls back from you, removing the condom and tying it off to toss it in the garbage.

You straighten up from your bent position over the counter, fixing your bra and tank top back into place. Turning, you find Joel holding your shorts and panties.

“Was that…are you…did you—“

You lean into him as you grab your clothes, kissing him softly. Pulling back, you murmur, “That was amazing.”

Joel sighs in relief, watching as you get dressed and tug your boots back on. “Good. That’s…good.”

“Why don’t you head downstairs first? I need to freshen up,” you suggest. Joel nods, but doesn’t make a move to leave. You raise your eyebrows at him and that seems to have him getting the hint.

“Oh! Right, I’ll just…go downstairs,” he says. You giggle, leaning into him for one more kiss before he disappears from the bathroom and you busy yourself with fixing your appearance to look a little less well fucked.

Downstairs, Joel wanders through the first floor in search of his son. He feels a flash of guilt for leaving him for so long, especially to fuck a woman half his age in a frat house bathroom, but the guilt is short lived when he finds his son with his tongue down the throat of a blonde girl in the living room.

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbles, turning to head for the front door instead. It’s getting late and now seems like a good time to head home.

He’s a few steps out the front door when he hears his name called out and you appear from the doorway.

“You heading out so soon?” You ask, bottom lip jutting out in a pout that he kind of wants to kiss from your lips. He runs a nervous hand through his hair.

“Uh, yeah. Was gonna head home,” he says. Christ, he has no idea why he’s acting so weird, but you have him tied up in knots.

“You know…my apartment isn’t far. Maybe…maybe you don’t have to go home just yet?” You say, looking up at him through your lashes.

Those knots of uncertainty loosen and Joel holds a hand out to you.

“Lead the way, baby.”

Joel Miller Masterlist

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel tlou #no use of y/n #joel x reader #joel the last of us #joel miller tlou #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #tlou hbo #tw age gap #tw age difference

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avatar-anna · 5 days

Text

Already Over

A story told through text!

Your ex (don't pick up!): So...same time again next weekend?

You: No.

You: That was the last time.

Your ex (don't pick up!): You said that last time

Your ex (don't pick up!): And the time before that...

Your ex (don't pick up!): Come on babe, when are you gonna drop the charade?

You: Three texts in a row? Someone's desperate

Your ex (don't pick up!): You drive me crazy baby. You always have.

You: Sorry. I'm serious this time.

Your ex (don't pick up!): You're really going to let THAT be the last time?

Your ex (don't pick up!): You didn't even get to sit on my face!

You: I'll live.

Your ex (don't pick up!): I won't!

Your ex (don't pick up!): And what about your tits? I need to say a proper goodbye

Your ex (don't pick up!): Please baby I'm aching for you

You: In the two years we were together I think that's the most ridiculous thing you've ever said

Your ex (don't pick up!): You're really going to be satisfied with that being the very last time? I just think we can do better

(five minutes later)

Your ex (don't pick up!): You're not answering because you know I'm right

You: I'm not answering because I'm not entertaining this conversation anymore

Your ex (don't pick up!): Because you know I'm right

You: We. Are. Not. Together. Anymore.

Your ex (don't pick up!): See you say that but then Saturday night rolls around and you're asking if I'll come over

Your ex (don't pick up!): But don't worry baby I won't judge you I promise. I'll even let you sit in my face even though you've been so mean

You: Don't hold your breath

(five days later)

You: You busy?

(six minutes later)

Your ex (don't pick up!): Already on my way

*.*

Ames👯‍♀️:: Seriously?

You: What? Did something happen at work?

Ames👯‍♀️: No...

Ames👯‍♀️: You're really gonna make me say it?

You: What are you talking about?

Ames👯‍♀️: I saw Harry sneaking off to his car this morning

You: It was the last time I swear!

Ames👯‍♀️: This wasn't the first time?! Y/n!!

You: I know I'm weak :(( We just have a lot of history and he just knows me so well and he's hard to resist when he wants something

Ames👯‍♀️: So are you back together then?

You: No of course not

Ames👯‍♀️: So you're just sleeping with him? I thought that wasn't what you wanted

You: No I swear that was the last time. It was just for closure or whatever. He's just...we have a lot of history you know?

You: And not to get into dirty details but he's just...so good you know?

Ames👯‍♀️: Yeah please don't elaborate

Ames👯‍♀️: You have to stop seeing him babe

You: I know. I think I got it out of my system

Ames👯‍♀️: Next weekend we're going out to take your mind off him. We'll get dressed up, go out the whole thing

You: Good idea!

Ames👯‍♀️: Try not to sleep with Harry until then

You: You have my word!

*.*

Harry: Hey I think I might've left a couple things last time I was over. Mind if I swing by?

Baby🍒: What did you leave? I'll get it together for you

Harry: You don't have to do that. I'll be quick I promise

Harry: Unless...

Baby 🍒: Unless what?

Harry: ;)))

Baby🍒: I already told you that was the last time

Baby🍒: And don't even start because it was a great last time

Harry: JUST great? What do I have to do to make it excellent?

Baby🍒: I'm not answering that

Harry: Sooo there's an answer??

Harry: Let's see...maybe riding my thigh? You've always had a thing for my tattoos

Baby🍒: Stop

Harry: Reverse cowgirl?

Baby🍒 is typing...

Harry: Reverse cowgirl in my shirt?

Baby🍒: I don't like this game

Harry: That's because I'm right

Harry: Oh I know! We didn't do it in the shower

Harry: Let me and the showerhead make it up to you. Please???

Baby🍒: Swing by in an hour. I'll have your stuff for you

Harry: And...

Baby🍒 sent an image

Harry: Fuck baby

Harry: I don't think I can wait an hour. I'm calling and you better pick up

*.*

Your ex (don't pick up!): Baby...

Your ex (don't pick up!): You're killing me

Your ex (don't pick up!): Posting a picture like that just to tease me? That's mean

Your ex (don't pick up!) sent an image

(ten minutes later)

Your ex (don't pick up!): Don't ignore me now baby. Let me know when you're back I'll come over

You: Not your baby Harry

Your ex (don't pick up!): Oh come on don't be like that

Your ex (don't pick up!): And since when do you call me Harry??

You: Leave me alone

You: I'm finally moving on from you

Your ex (don't pick up!): Really? So yesterday was the last last last last last time?

You: Yes. We broke up for a reason. I'm not falling back into old habits with you

Your ex (don't pick up!) is typing...

(one minute later)

Your ex (don't pick up!): That sounds like some shit Amy would say

You: You caught me. I confiscated Y/n's phone for the night. She's having fun and meeting new people that aren't you. Maybe she'll even go home with one of them

Your ex (don't pick up!) is typing...

Your ex (don't pick up!): Bullshit

Your ex (don't pick up!): She was in my bed last night. I'll spare you the details but I don't think she's interested in going home with someone else

You: Maybe she will maybe she won't. It's her choice. You two are broken up. It's time you start acting like it

Your ex (don't pick up!): What if I don't want to be? Y/n is the one who broke up with me out of nowhere

You: Because you took your relationship for granted! And she doesn't want to wait for you to grow up Harry. Let her find someone who deserves her

Your ex (don't pick up!): Fine. Whatever.

*.*

(the next day)

Harry: I didn't take my relationship with Y/n for granted did I?

Niall (Whore)an: ...

Harry: Seriously?!

Niall (Whore)an: not for granted but...

Niall (Whore)an: but you went out with her less and less in the last year

Niall (Whore)an: and to be honest even i had a hard time figuring out what the whole situation was between you two

Harry: So because I didn't want to suffocate my girlfriend I'm a bad boyfriend?

Niall (Whore)an: i didn't say that! need i remind you you came to me for help

Harry: I know I'm sorry

Harry: I just don't want her to move on. What do I do?

Niall (Whore)an: maybe stop sleeping with her and actually talk to her.

Niall (Whore)an: and don't bother pretending. i know you're still hooking up

Harry: I'm taking what I can get man. It's the cold shoulder unless we're fucking

Niall (Whore)an: don't. you need to show her you're more than just a late night booty call

Harry: You know I've never really done the whole relationship thing before. Y/n was the first and I clearly failed epically

Niall (Whore)an: what do you want then? a relationship or a situationship?

Harry: With her I always wanted more, but I don't know how to BE more

Niall (Whore)an: start with no more hooking up. she'll never see you as more if you keep giving in or offering yourself to her that way

Harry: What if that just pushes her away for good?

Niall (Whore)an: it won't

*.*

Baby🍒: Come over?

Harry: I can't. I promised Niall I'd be his wingman tonight

Baby🍒: You can come after? Amy's spending the night with her girlfriend

Harry: Must be nice

Baby🍒: What's that supposed to mean?

Harry: Nothing. I just can't tonight.

Baby🍒: You haven't come over in forever

Harry: Like you've said a hundred times, we're not together anymore

Baby🍒: When has that ever stopped you?

Harry: I guess I realized I want more

Harry: I know now that I wasn't the best boyfriend, but I want to be

Baby🍒: What are you saying H?

Harry: If you'll let me, I'd like a second chance. I want to take us seriously. I know I wasn't the best boyfriend in the world the first time around but maybe we can talk about it? Lay all our cards on the table and figure out where we go from there?

Baby🍒 is typing...

Baby🍒: I don't know if that's what I want

Baby🍒: We did this whole back and forth thing for two whole years and you're now realizing you're ready for a relationship? I just think that window is closed

(four minutes later)

Baby🍒: H?

Harry: I get it. I'm sorry I couldn't get my act together soon enough for you

Harry: I hope you find someone who gives you exactly what you need

Baby🍒: Thank you

*.*

(one month later)

You are typing...

You: Hey

You: It was nice seeing you last night

Harry S.: Yeah. You looked good

You: So did you

You: Sorry if this is awkward I feel like I don't know how to talk to you

You: Maybe I shouldn't have said anything in the first place

Harry S.: Why did you?

You are typing...

You: I don't know

You: That's a lie. I know exactly why but it's embarrassing

Harry S.: What is?

You: I saw you

Harry S.: I know I saw you too

You: No I mean I SAW you. With another girl

Harry S.: Oh

You: And I guess I just got jealous which is totally stupid

You: But I think it made me realize what we could've had

You: And that sucks because I still really care about you even though I tried to pretend I didn't. I just didn't want you to hurt me anymore than you already had

You: You were ready and I pushed you away when maybe I shouldn't have

Harry S. is typing...

(five minutes later)

You: And...I've definitely scared you off. Or your girlfriend saw this

You: I'm sorry I shouldn't have said anything

(twenty minutes later)

Harry S.: Where are you?

(ten minutes later)

You: What?

You: Sorry I just got out of the shower

You: Is that you banging on the door??

Harry S.: Yes!!

Harry S.: Come answer it it's freezing out here!

You: I thought you were with that girl

Harry S.: She came up to me at the bar

Harry S.: I haven't been with anyone since we broke up. I told you I was serious baby

You: You waited for me?

Harry S.: Of course baby

Harry S.: Now can you let me in so I can confess my undying love for you in person?

You: Coming!

Harry S.: You will be ;))

#Spotify #harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

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incorrectbatfam · 1 year

Note

The most beloved english/ lit teacher at Park Row High, Mr Todd who inspires many many student is Red Hood. I just think Jason will make am excellent teacher and will really love the job.

All I hear is "give me teacher Jason headcanons" so here you go

Besides English, he also teaches a weekend driving class where he lets teenagers take turns parallel parking the Batmobile

His teacher voice isn't too different from normal (compared to other teachers) but it's noticeable—and more importantly, effective. He confiscates someone's phone at the movies when they wouldn't quit texting

For Jason, the "other duties as assigned" include refilling the soap in the boys bathroom and hanging a rainbow flag on the conservative history teacher's door

He also subs for that same teacher and says "everything you've been learning is wrong" before speedrunning the entire other half of American history

Most kids know him as the cool younger teacher who they can earnestly talk to, but every year there's one person who will treat him like he has one foot in the grave

He records his classes and his TA captions everything. Key word: everything

He starts the countdown to the last day of school on the first day of school

Red Hood discovers a restaurant acting as a front for money laundering but instead of taking them down, he lets them go on one condition. Cue the week-long pizza party at school

He once had a student walk in late because they went to Wal-Mart for a Mountain Dew

His hall pass is a dull batarang with "mrs tods hal pas" written in nail polish

Grading essays is either "this kid is the next Austen" or "please never touch a keyboard again"

Before the students turn their quizzes in, Jason asks each and every one of them, "Did you do the other side?"

Jason makes a copy of the janitor's keys and disables the security cameras so one of his students can sleep in the classroom after she was evicted. Red Hood also sweeps the halls to make sure there aren't any D-list Rogues squatting

Once a month the lesson is just naptime. He turns off the lights and tells them to go to sleep

If someone can solve Jason's Monday riddle then they don't have to do homework for a week. In unrelated news, the Riddler is apprehended after Red Hood decodes a series of cryptic clues

One kid told him "You're so old you look like you already died"

#jason todd #red hood #batfam #batfamily #batman #batboys #batbros #batkids #batsiblings #batman family #dc comics #headcanon #alternate universe #ask #anonymous #tw just in case

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copperbadge · 10 months

Note

Hello, hello, could you please say more about how you use Microsoft OneNote in your professional life? I need all the help I can get to stay organized & on top of things, so I would love to know.

Sure! I use it less than previous because there's less randomized stuff I need to do now, so I don't need such robust management, but I can talk about how my use began/evolved. I started using OneNote because it was less finicky than Word but still had an autosave function and basic formatting, so it was useful for initial drafts of documents, taking notes on meetings, and keeping track of information I needed at my fingertips frequently.

OneNote's largest "unit" is the Notebook. You can have multiple Notebooks but I've never bothered; still I can see how if your screen was public a lot, you'd want to put some things in a separate Notebook. The Notebook then breaks down into Sections which look like tabs, which I would assign to broad things like "Meeting Notes", "Assignments", "Templates", "Personal" and "Excel Hacks". Sections break down further into "Pages"; each page is a document stuck into place, which you can title so that you can have a list of "pages" on the sidebar and find the one you want easily. Text in Pages can be formatted to some degree, and if you copypaste from websites, it'll tag on the URL of the site you pasted from, although you can also turn that off if you want. You can drag and drop Pages from one Section to another pretty easily.

So, for example, I'd have a "Meeting Notes" Section, and when I clicked the tab for that section I'd have a list of Pages, each of which was notes from a meeting I'd attended. Every time I went into a meeting I just made a new page, gave it a meeting title and date, and took notes on the meeting into the page window. The "Meeting Notes" Section thus became a fully searchable record of meetings I'd attended and what was said. When meeting notes were no longer relevant I'd drag them to an archival Section to retire in peace.

Here's an example of my Excel section:

You can see "My Notebook" up in the left top corner, my current Sections as tabs at the top, and the pages list on the left (I think more modern OneNote skins put the pages on the right, I moved mine back). Each line on the left is a separate "page" that tells me how to do something in Excel, something I need to do a lot but can't commit to memory (or couldn't but now have, it's a trifle out of date). So we're in My Notebook, section Excel, page Formatting Stripes, and on the right you can see how to format an Excel sheet so that it has alternating colored rows (there are other ways to do this but this way the stripes always stay alternating no matter what moves where). In theory I could dump all this stuff into one Page and call it "Excel" and put it somewhere else, but I liked having an easily-visible list so I don't have to scroll a single document to find what I want.

There aren't nearly as many tab/sections as there used to be; "Assignments" covers "all work that is not excel formulas" and includes stuff like instructions for how to pull a query in our database, a list of what everyone does at our company, a yearly guide to our events program, a few other things. I don't have a "Personal" section any more but I do have 2-3 pages in the Assignments section that are personal notes.

There's no inbuilt tagging function but because the entire notebook is searchable, if you're really into tagging you can simply add keywords to the top or bottom of a page.

I have OneNote pinned to my taskbar in Windows, and it's basically always open but it autosaves, so adding stuff is super simple; if I find a bug in our database or a quirk I want to remember I just click over to OneNote and add it to the database file, or similar.

I don't use it on my phone or tablet, because if I'm at work I have access to my laptop generally, but OneNote does sync across devices as long as you're logged in, so if you have OneNote and a Microsoft login you should be able to access it in multiple places.

#one note #life hacks #sam has adhd #adhd tools #organization tools

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vinelark · 9 months

Note

6 for the ask meme 😎

6. Have you written any fanfictions featuring OCs? If so, elaborate!

oh? is it time? is it time to drop the OCBFEU primer??

in short: yes, last year my friends came up with a whole "what if we invented a boyfriend for jason" "what if we also invented a boyfriend for dick in the same continuity" batfam AU with two (and a half) significant OCs. we write little informal fics for each other about them and my incredibly talented friends draw them and we also have an extended fantasy AU of the boyfriend AU that could fill about three TV seasons of plot so far. i love them. they are constantly rotating in the back of my mind; it's a fun time.

months ago we compiled a document with bios and a rough OC bf timeline (with bonus timkon) and: here it is! (content warning for a (past) emotionally manipulative relationship. also some brief underage drinking.)

Batfamily OCBFEU (OC Boyfriend Extended Universe)

Santi

jason’s OC boyfriend; ship name sanjay

[original santi post] [mammutblog’s santi art tag] [90kon’s santi art tag]

santi, short for santiago

5’7”; has to go up on his tiptoes to kiss jason

line cook by day, taking classes toward his teaching certification by night, also volunteers at an after-school literacy program in park row

gothamite through & through—grew up a few blocks over from jason, though their paths never crossed. has two siblings, an older sister and a younger brother, but is mostly estranged from them after their dad died. money was incredibly tight after that and santi still took odd jobs—including some for the falcones—to help his sister finish med school.

an old soul like jason, aka he’ll use his same phone til it’s a brick and does not understand tiktok despite kids at the program explaining it to him over and over

there’s probably a mildly popular tiktok series one of the kids has of them asking santi questions while santi is in the middle of something at the program, because everyone loves santi and he gives funny answers when he’s distracted

santi does not become a vigilante—he has enough on his plate, he’s (almost) a teacher—but he’s certainly not without his own set of skills. also he talks a very good game and can usually get by without having to physically fight (see: confrontation with nick in the below timeline)

Blue

dick’s OC boyfriend; ship name bluebird

[original blue post] [other original blue post]

ex-talon from an alternate reality

6’5” 😳

in his original universe blue was taken as a child and turned into a talon (in this version talons have boosted strength/healing, and were conditioned/brainwashed into carrying out the court of owls’ assassinations. also golden eyes) and doesn’t remember his name anymore. once he tumbled into this universe after an assignment gone wrong, he was free of the court’s orders and re-education for the first time and started slowly unraveling their mental conditioning

he rarely speaks, and takes a while to consider his words when he does. when he texts it’s mostly emojis because he prefers them

when left to his own devices he’s very gentle and likes to bake

he had short/shaved hair as a talon. once he’s in this world he starts growing it out and prefers it long

he eventually makes an excellent crime-fighting partner for dick; he knows and understands dick’s skills enough to trust him to take care of himself, so they work very well together. that said, if you really hurt nightwing you will be reminded very quickly that blue spent most of his life as a nearly unbeatable assassin.

he eventually takes up the superhero name flamebird to go with nightwing

Nick

tim’s OC ex-boyfriend; no ship name we hate nick

nick is a GU college freshman (18 at the time) tim meets playing tennis at the local rec center while tim is avoiding the manor in the early red hood reconciliation days

at first nick definitely plays into the fact that tim desperately craves attention at this point in his life. nick is at turns overwhelmingly nice and startlingly cold, and more and more often “playfully” mocks tim, dismisses his thoughts because he’s “young” (16 at the time), etc. nick is, essentially, a jerk who, despite—or perhaps due to—being a teenager himself, does everything he can to feel superior to tim.

nick also drags tim along to parties/hangouts with his college friends so he can show off that he’s dating tim drake-wayne. other than late-night parties with his friends, though, he insists on keeping their relationship a secret.

none of the bats know about this as it’s happening; tim eventually breaks it off and pretends it never happened.

rough OCBFEU timeline

jason and santi meet while jason is still sort of on the outs with the family but not in Revenge Mode anymore. first jason meets santi as red hood, and later realizes his main apartment/civilian ID lives in the same building as santi when they run into each other in the elevator.

sanjay identity shenanigans ensue! santi is very taken with red hood. santi thinks his upstairs neighbor “uhh, call me jay” is an inconsiderate dickhead for seemingly working out/moving furniture around at 3am sometimes. seriously, how many muscles does someone need. that’s ridiculous. santi also thinks jay has a very nice smile but that’s irrelevant.

meanwhile tim meets nick at rec center and they date for a few months. it’s not a great time for tim and he eventually breaks it off.

santi starts seeing red hood more because red hood will just. appear and shadow santi when he’s walking home from work late, and helps santi out of a tight spot with some of falcone’s men at one point (we learn santi used to work for falcone a few years ago; he needed the money to put his older sister through med school. santi’s not involved with the mob anymore but the past dogs his heels sometimes). santi and red hood start hooking up, though hood still won’t show his face.

santi volunteers at an after-school literacy program (while taking night classes working toward a teaching certification). one day santi’s neighbor jay shows up to the bake sale fundraising for the after-school program, and they have a cute interaction until there’s a surprise rogue attack and the school goes on lockdown. jay disappears; red hood shows up minutes later, helping santi secure the kids before going after the rogue. red hood gets hurt and in the aftermath santi, patching him up, pieces together that red hood is his neighbor jay.

shortly after this santi gets kidnapped in public along with a random teenager (tim drake) who happened to intervene and get himself kidnapped too. the kidnappers saw santi and hood together after the rogue attack, so they’re trying to get information on hood out of santi. tim runs interference as best he can and takes a few hits as a distraction, and soon enough red hood shows up to dispatch the kidnappers. in the aftermath red hood is cold and snappish to tim (jason thinks tim was stalking santi) (to be fair, tim was) and this leads to santi learning a bit more about jason’s family. this also leads to jason breaking up with santi because it’s too dangerous (for santi) to associate with him.

santi does not agree with this decision, and there’s a lot of pining and angsting until they get their shit together over the course of another few months. coincidentally jason is reconciling with his family in the meanwhile and getting his feet under him emotionally.

once they’re together jason and santi are like. incredibly domestic. totally in rhythm with each other. somehow jason now has the healthiest most settled relationship of any bat.

meanwhile in blüdhaven, blue pops in from an alternate reality where the court of owls rules gotham. blue was taken as a child and turned into a talon; when he’s thrown into this universe, he’s free from the owls’ control for the first time. it’s a rough landing—he ends up being fished out of a dumpster by dick and even though blue runs away, he imprints hard on one dick grayson.

Tim (18 now) realizes his longtime crush on kon might be reciprocated; cue panicking.

tim lies his way into a gay club to Research (because nick always kind of mocked tim for not having dated any guys before him; tim thinks he will have one shot to not disappoint kon so he has to figure shit out). gets drunk, starts making out with someone who is not uhh handling him gently. gets spotted by jason and santi, who are there on what was supposed to be a fun date, and they intervene. at first jason is annoyed, thinking tim’s following him again, and then realizes something is Wrong. he and santi dispatch the asshole other guy, and they bring drunk tim back to crash on jason’s couch.

the next morning tim is hungover at jason’s and mortified. santi makes him sit and eat breakfast and tim is like i’m sorry, i wasn’t even following you guys this time, i swear. which leads to tim haltingly explaining the nick thing. santi and jason (who is lurking in the kitchen listening to this convo) don’t know who this ex guy is yet but they’re gonna kill him ❤️

tim’s net gain for this ill-fated excursion: one (1) splitting headache and one (1) new older brother unit.

meanwhile back in blüdhaven blue is slowly un-conditioning himself, keeping to the shadows, and leaving little gifts on dick’s windowsill. the gifts are like, keychains, a lost earring, a random postcard. all tend to be blue or have blue in them, so dick starts nicknaming this mysterious gift-giver blue.

during patrol a week later jason finds tim on a rooftop and has an awkward but earnest talk with tim about uhh. consent and healthy relationships and stuff okay yeah we’re never talking about this again but also if you ever need anything. call me right away or i’ll kill you. okay good talk.

blue gets invited inside dick’s apartment for the first time. god bless bluebird they’re in their own little world over here.

tim and kon kiss 😳

an anonymous, “scandalous” tabloid story from someone claiming to have dated tim drake-wayne drops. resulting fallout, salacious rumors abound about tim + the waynes, etc. also, obviously, bruce and the family find out about nick. jason and santi figure out who nick is and separately visit him to put the fear of god in him.

nick: what the fuck, are you with the guy from earlier? i got the message! tell that guy i’m moving to star city this fucking weekend!

red hood: what guy

nick: you know the, the guy with the earring and the tattoo and he said if i didn’t lose tim’s number and leave town i’d have an accident

red hood: huh. no, not related. so you never made a deal with me. bummer for you, i still get to break one of your arms.

(jason obviously realizes the other guy was santi so he goes home and climbs into bed where santi’s awake reading and he’s like “productive night?” and jason’s like “mmhm, and i heard you had a productive day” and santi shrugs and then jason kisses the hell out of him)

over in blüdhaven blue witnesses dick get really upset over something (this article) for the first time. dick says “i’m going to be away for a few days but you can stay here while i’m gone, okay?” (when dick returns blue isn’t there but dick’s apartment has been deep-cleaned) (this leads to dick insisting blue stay there more and more until they accidentally end up as roommates)

batfamily deals with the nick aftermath and much-needed convos are had with tim. this also brings santi more into the family fold because everyone approves of him essentially making nick shit his pants.

bruce, up to this point, has been kind of wary of santi solely because santi is NOT immediately impressed with bruce. santi sees bruce as being on thin ice until he gets proof that bruce is in fact doing his best as a parent and then they have a slightly more chill dynamic.

meanwhile in gotham, mid family crisis, dick is having his own crisis/rooftop breakdown with tim and jason about having feelings for blue and going through his gay awakening at the ripe age of 20something and jason is very upset that he has somehow become the to-go gay relationship advice sibling.

because yeah, between dick and jason, JASON’s relationship is the more normal/aspirational one for tim looking for like queer mentors. bluebird is great and perfect for them obviously but they are not a blueprint for anyone else.

dick: [sitting on blue’s shoulder after describing how blue wooed him with random tchotchkes on his windowsill and then moved into a corner of his living room for a month and—] anyway do as i say not as i do

dick literally let a secret organization-trained slightly undead assassin into his house for fun bc he got like a few cool rocks as a gift

if tim asked dick for advice dick would be like “oh shit you like-like him? i just thought you were really touchy friends”

no one should ask bruce for advice, ever

so here jason is, somehow the most stable gay of the family

by the time damian appears with his first crush jason is like [sighs] [gets out the powerpoint]

timkon officially get together!

aaaand then months later dick shows up to family dinner with a giant ex-talon in tow like “heyyyyy guys, so guess what—”

there are also plenty of fun post-timeline adventures like “blue and santi get kidnapped together to target nightwing and red hood; kidnappers regret this almost immediately” and “tim takes blue on restaurant adventures because blue really likes fancy food; one day they run into nick who says something nasty about tim and blue breaks nick’s wrist (tim’s net gain: another older brother unit)” and “santi is frantically trying to catch the bus one night and steps on one of poison ivy’s vines—whoops, it’s sex pollen; santi gets introduced to PAID forms” or, alternately, “jason gets hit with the poison ivy special and that’s how santi finds out he’s on jason’s PAID form” and “bruce and blue surprisingly get along very well and trade sparring tips (meanwhile, bruce is trying so hard to get santi to tolerate him and it’s slow going)” and also “dick realizes everyone else in the world knew he and blue were dating and in love six months before he did.”

extra content:

santi, blue, and kon end up in a robin bf support group gc. one day kon gets added to a group chat that’s just like [(372)846-XXXX and (124)234-XXXX has added you to a group chat] and nothing happens there for like 2 hours he’s just like

kon: ?

kon: hello?

kon: is this spam? is there such a thing as spam gcs?

kon: am i getting blackmailed

kon: how did you get this number??

(blue added kon while santi is in school)

the gc also ends up nonstop unintentional comedy due to their communication styles. kon’s gen z (👍 = declaration of war) and santi is technologically elder millennial/boomer (thought 🙂 was a normal smiley until corrected)—but blue is none of the above. blue knows the nuances of every emoji but has no social rules for using them. he’s an emoji artist. he is unbound.

from @90kon, in a version of the timeline where santi hasn’t seen jason’s face/doesn’t know his name before their sort-of breakup:

after their not-yet-together-break-up they should have an argument. like santi confronts jason about him saying he doesn’t want this thing between them to go on but wont give santi an honest answer but also keeps lurking and santi cant move on like that. bc either he’s done with him or he’s not. and umm yeah jason is not rly saying much but eventually santi is like alright. just tell me this: do you want this or not? forget about everything else…do you want me? and santi barely has time to finish his question before jason says yes. in a tight voice. i want you so much it scares the shit out of me. and ummm well eventually santi is like look. you can have me. but i have conditions.

and he’s like. whatever idk uhh don’t lurk out my window unless you’re gonna come in. dont investigate me; if you want to know something, just ask. at the end he should say "and i need a name. it doesn't have to be your full name or anything, but i need to call you something other than red." and jason is quiet for so long santi sighs and is like. "yeah i didn’t actually think that one was gonna fly. whatever, forget i said--" and jason says "jay." like it just slips out of him. and santi stills, looks at him, and from the way jason said it he somehow knows it's real. it could be short for any number of names but it's real. so he repeats it. "jay."

family game night from @mammutblog:

collected OCBFEU tag

[OC boyfriends created in a lab by @90kon, @mammutblog, @cairoscene, @vinelark, @feyburner, @bluecrystalrainingdaggers!]

#OCBFEU #is there any purer form of fandom than making up a guy and letting your friends give him trauma #and romance #anyway yeah. the OCs.#my fic #asks #batfam #as soon as i saw your ask i was like !! the primer!!#jason todd #dick grayson #tim drake

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noirleo · 10 months

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confession hcs

bayverse tmnt (aged up, dont be weird <3)

mikey

mikey has confessed his feelings for you at least twice a day since you first met. he was convinced he was in love with you from the first meeting, and it wasn’t until several days later that he realized he was so caught up in planning your entire future relationship that he didn’t actually get your name.

which, of course, just presented an excellent excuse to need to see you again. and again.

before you even realize, you have a very talkative escort to and from your apartment at night. late night walks graduate to movie nights at the lair, and before you realize it, you’re spending every weekend at the lair, watching old horror movies or carefully curated playlist of funny youtube compilations he put together just for the two of you.

you didn’t take his flirting seriously at first. mikey flirts with every person he meets as surely as the sun rises in the east and sets in the west—hell, you’ve seen him make passes at casey once or twice. you brushed it off, taking his declarations of love all in good fun.

slowly but surely, though, your feelings for him crept in, burrowing their way under your skin and stubbornly taking root in your chest. you found yourself anticipating his “come over???? :)” texts and buying him little trinkets and things you think he might like when you go shopping with your friends. the two of you have become inseparable over the past several months; the brothers claim that they never really see one without the other anymore.

tonight you and mikey are crashed out on the couch, facing each other with your legs folded over one another’s gracelessly. a bowl of popcorn balances precariously on your entangled legs, and mikey’s eyes are glued to the screen, excitement lighting up his features as he mouths the words in time with the actress on the screen. it’s the third night in a row he’s chosen terminator, and at this point you could probably quote it backwards without having to spare a glance at the screen.

you tell yourself that’s why you’re staring at him again—you’re just bored, no other reason— but you can’t seem to pull your eyes away from his face to look at the tv.

“see something you like, babe?” mikey asks cheekily, not even turning his head away from the tv. you take a piece of popcorn and throw it at him; it bounces off the side of his head before he turns back to you, mouth dropped in mock disappointment.

“aw no, wait, i wasn’t ready that time! go again,” he pleads, and you toss a few pieces high into the air. he snaps them up and raises his hands, waving to a fake cheering audience. you giggle and kick at his leg, which he easily catches, pulling you closer to him. your breath catches as he pulls you onto his lap, still giggling, and you wrap your arms around his neck without thinking.

“when are you finally gonna kiss me, ‘angelo?” the words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them. emotions flash across mikey’s face within a split second before his usual, wide grin spreads across his face.

“you saying you want me to, angel face?” he asks, not even trying to hide the hopefulness in his voice. you don’t even respond, glancing from his eyes to his lips, before he pulls you into a kiss.

the movie you were supposed to be watching ends at some point, but the two of you are much to busy to notice.

#i refuse to use correct capitalization #i like the idea that mikey flirts with you so often that he doesnt even realize hes doing it its fr just how he talks #anyway i havent written in like three years so forgive me if im a little rusty #im lazy and going to break it up into 4 parts for each turtle #moon.txt #my writing #tmnt bayverse #bayverse x reader #bayverse michelangelo #bayverse mikey #mikey x reader #michelangelo x reader #tmnt x reader #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016

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beomiracles · 5 months

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professor, Kang

BRUUUU I LOVE THE IDEA OF SEXC TEACHER TAE OKAY SUE ME mkay anyway enjoy hehe

pairing. taehyun x fem!reader reader is above the age of 18!! this a uni y'all !!!! warnings. implied smut, teacherxstudent relationship sorta (not established) but yk sum goin on at least

A/N ─ she was very well received so here's a part 2 for anyone interested >_<

You never liked physics, in fact you hated it. That's why you'd considered dropping the class before it had even started. But he made class interesting. He made you come to every single one of your physics classes. He made you be on time ⎯ he didn't like when you were late. You wore high ponytails, he liked that. Glasses placed neatly on the bridge of your nose, your skirt, a little too short to be considered everyday wear, rode up your thighs.

Sitting at the front row, slightly to the left, that's where he wanted you, the desk closest to his. Legs crossed and the tip of your pen stuck between your lips as you watch his every move. The way he walks back and forward with long and calculated strides. Slim hands occasionally pointing toward the board, you thought you could make out a few veins. The black shirt hugging his slim waist whilst accentuating his muscled arms. The glasses making his sharp and angelic features look impossibly more delicate.

You find your mind wandering.. fantasizing. The same slim and delicate fingers roughly spreading your bare thighs apart. His voice like running silver, except he's not talking about physics anymore. Clenching your thighs subconsciously whilst biting on your pen. You're brought back to reality by that same silvery voice ⎯ "is all well, miss y/l/n?" His voice is indifferent but you can feel his eyes on you, all over you, in places where they shouldn't be. You nod quietly and your gaze drops back to the notebook in front of you.

The sound of chairs dragging across the floor fill the room. Bags are being thrown around as people chatter excitedly, it was Friday after all. You tell your friends that you'll catch up to them later, slowly you pack up your things. You glance up at the desk in front of you, your professor looks engrossed in the paper in front of him. As the classroom empties out you hesitantly stand up ⎯ the noise making him look up at you. "Is something wrong miss y/l/n? Shouldn't you be heading out with the other students?"

You bite your lip frustratedly, thinking of an excuse, anything. Finally you take a small step forward, "Erm.. it's just..I didn't really get this part..." you say and point at a highlighted part of your notes. Your professor frowns and beckons you closer with his fingers, you feel your panties dampen at the thought of what those fingers could do to you. Your hands brush as you hand him the paper.

He scans the text you'd pointed at before sighing and removing his glasses. Pointing at the board he says "Show me what you understood and I'll help you with the rest." You gulp as you make your way to the board, suddenly becoming aware of the outfit you'd chosen. Pulling at your skirt before you grab a pencil and start writing ⎯ you had lied earlier, you understood everything perfectly. For someone not liking physics you never missed a class and Mr Kang was really an excellent teacher. Still you write down formulas ⎯ feeling your professors eyes on you, wandering.

You leave out a few parts and just as you're about to turn around to face your professor you feel him behind you. Your back almost pressing against his chest as he towers over you. "Alright.." he says in his usual smooth voice, your heart flutters at the thought of him being this close and you resist the urge to squeeze your legs together. He begins explaining what you already know and your mind wanders off for the third time today.

He clears his throat causing you to jump slightly, "S-sorry?" you say. "Pencil." he says in a more annoyed tone. "O-oh right...sorry." you say as you quickly hand him the pencil you'd been using. Writing down another formula on the board he leans forward and now your back is firmly pressed to his chest. You're almost certain he can hear your heart practically beating out of your chest. That is until you feel it, thick and hard prodding at your lower back. You feel your checks turn crimson red as you bite your lip ⎯ your professor however seems completely unbothered by the situation.

When he finishes explaining he leans away, leaving you feeling empty despite never actually having him. You turn around to face him for the first time in almost 20 minutes. Unable to read his expression but not daring to look down you maintain eye contact, chewing on your bottom lip nervously. When you realise he's waiting for you to speak you scramble for words. "I...yes I think I got it now...thank you.." you stutter, back pressed against the board still, you're caged.

He doesn't answer but lifts his arm, slim fingers brushing a strand of hair out of your face. "You don't have to lie to me miss y/l/n." his voice is low, "If you wanted to see me you could've just said so." You nod ⎯ avoiding his gaze. "I know you talk, use your words" he says in a stern voice making you squirm. "That goes for class too" he adds, "No more nodding", you almost nod again before catching yourself. "Yes professor", you breathe out eyes meeting his.

He steps back, freeing you from your temporary cage which was him and the board behind you. Sitting down behind his desk as you scramble for your belongings, you whisper a, "Have a good weekend" before making your way out.

Just as you reach the door he speaks, "Y/n?" the use of your first name makes you stop dead in your tracks. "Y-yes..?" You turn around. Your professor's eyes wandering lustfully over your body, "Don't bite your lips like that in class." he says his voice no different from when he teaches. "You have no idea what it does to me."

#kang taehyun #taehyun x reader #professor x student reader #professor taehyun #txt fanfic #taehyun fanfic

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fourthwingfan · 17 days

Text

Madness - Chapter 18

Hello there, my Lovely Readers! Here is the new chapter, enjoy :)

ui: and again, thanks for the likes and reblogs, you're awesome!

There is nothing more sacred than the Archives. Even temples can be rebuilt, but books cannot be rewritten.

—Colonel Daxton’s Guide to Excelling in the Scribe Quadrant

The wooden library cart squeaks as I push it over the bridge that connects the Riders Quadrant to the Healer, and then past the clinic doors into the heart of Basgiath.

After Threshing I was assigned to Archives duty. It seems that our library’s maintenance is a “less desirable” chore, and one of the unbonded took our place. So here I am. But at least I was paired up with Violet.

Mage lights illuminate our way down the tunnels as we take a path so familiar that I could walk it with my eyes shut. I’ve been here with Violet countless times.

I nod to the first-year scribe at the entrance to the Archives and he jumps out of his seat, hurrying to open the vault-like door.

“Good morning, Cadet Sorrengail, Cadet Melgren” he says, holding the entrance open so we can pass.

„Good morning, Cadet Pierson.” I nod as I push the cart through.

The Archives smell like parchment, book-binding glue, and ink.

Rows of twenty-foot-high shelves run the length of the cavernous structure, and we wait by the table nearest the entrance. Only scribes may pass any farther, and I am a rider.

The thought brings a smile to my lips as a woman approaches in a cream tunic and hood, a single rectangle of gold woven onto her shoulder. A first-year. When she pulls the fabric from her head, baring long brown hair, and brings her gaze to meet mine, I full-on grin. I sign, “Jesinia!”

“Cadet Sorrengail, Cadet Melgren.” she signs back. Her bright eyes sparkle, but she smothers her smile.

For just this second, I abhor the rituals and customs of the scribes. There would be nothing wrong with her smiling at us, but she’d be chastised for a loss of composure. After all, how could we know how earnest the scribes are about their work, how dedicated they remain, if they were to crack a smile?

“It’s really good to see you,” I sign and can’t quit grinning. “I knew you’d pass the test.”

“Only because I studied with Violet for the past year,” she signs back, pressing her lips together so they don’t curve upward. Then her face falls. “I was horrified to hear about you being forced into the Riders Quadrant.” She turns to Violet. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she assures her. “I’m bonded and…I’m happy.”

Her eyes widen. “Aren’t you constantly worried you’re going to—” She glances left and right, but there’s no one near enough to see us. “You know…die?”

“Sure.” She nods. “But oddly enough, you kind of get used to that.”

“Something like that.” I laugh quietly.

“If you say so.” She looks skeptical. “Let’s get you taken care of. Are these all returns?”

I nod and reach into the pocket of my pants for a small scroll of parchment and hand it to her before signing, “And a few requests from Professor Devera.” The unbonded in charge of our small library sends a list of requests and the returns every night, and we fetch them before breakfast, which is probably why my stomach is growling.

Burning all the extra calories from a combination of flight, sparring lessons and studying with Liam late into the night means I have an all-new capacity for food.

“Anything else?” she asks after putting the scroll in a hidden pocket in her robes.

I shake my head.

“Any chance you guys have a copy of The Fables of the Barren?” Violet signs.

Jesinia’s brow furrows. “I’m not familiar with that text.”

I blink. It’s strange. Jesinia is a scribe and she has been preparing for this her whole life.

“It’s not for academics or anything, just a collection of folklore my dad shared with us. A little on the dark side, honestly, but I love it.” Violet shrugs. “Wyvern, venin, magic, the battles of good and evil—you know, the good stuff.” She grins. If anyone understands her love of books, it’s Jesinia.

“I’ve never heard of that one, but I’ll look for it while I pull these.”

“Thank you. I’d really appreciate it.”

I know what she means. Now that we’re going to be the one wielding magic, we could use a few good folktales of what happens when humans defile the power channeled to them. No doubt they were written as a parable to warn us of the dangers of bonding dragons, but in Navarre’s six-hundred-year history of unification, I’ve never read of a single rider losing their soul to their powers. The dragons keep us from that.

Jesinia nods and pushes the cart, disappearing into the shelves.

It usually takes about fifteen minutes to gather the requests that come in from both professors and cadets in our quadrant, but I’m more than content to wait. Scribes come and go, some in groups as they train to become our kingdom’s historians.

“Violet?”

I turn to the left and see Professor Markham leading a squad of first-year scribes.

“Hello, Professor.” She smiles at him.

I keep my face emotionless around him. It is easier because I know he’ll expect it. After all I’m a Melgren.

“Professor.” I greet him.

“Cadet Melgren.” He nods and looks toward Violet. “I didn’t realize you had library chore duty.” He glances toward the spot in the shelves where Jesinia disappeared. “Are you being helped?”

“Jesinia—” she cringe. “I mean, Cadet Neilwart is most helpful.”

“You know,” he says to the squad of five as they arc around us, “Cadet Sorrengail here was my prized student until the Riders Quadrant stole her away.” His gaze meets her under his hood. “I had hopes she would return, but alas, she has bonded to not one but two dragons.”

A girl to his right gasps, then covers her mouth and mutters an apology.

“Don’t worry, all of us felt the same way,” I tell her.

“Perhaps you can explain something to Cadet Nasya over here, who was just griping that there’s not nearly enough fresh air in here.” Professor Markham turns his focus to a boy on his left. “This group is just starting their rotation in the Archives.”

Nasya turns beet red under his cream hood.

“It’s part of the fire mitigation system,” Violet tells him. “Less air, less risk of our history burning to the ground.”

“And the stuffy hoods?” Nasya lifts a brow at her.

“Makes it harder for you to stand out against the tomes,” she explains. “A symbol that no one and nothing is more important than the documents and books in this very room.”

“Exactly.” Professor Markham levels a glare at Nasya. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, Cadet Sorrengail, we have work to attend. I’ll see you tomorrow in Battle Brief. Cadet Melgren you too.”

“Yes, sir.” I step back, giving the squad room to pass.

“Are you sad?” I ask Vi. She has a strange look on her face.

“It’s just… we’re here. We’re visiting the Archives. It’s hard, but no need to worry,” she tells me.

“It’s hard to love a second home as much as the first.” I smile sadly at her.

“It’s easy when the second home is the right one.” She smiles back.

And I know what she means. Home. That is what the Riders Quadrant has become to me—the right home. There is nothing that can match the adrenaline rush of flight.

Jesinia reappears with the cart, laden down with the requested books and bits of mail for the professors of our quadrant.

She signs, “I’m so sorry, but I couldn’t find that book. I even searched the catalog for wyvern—I think that’s what you said—but there’s nothing.”

I stare for a second. Our Archives have either a copy or the original of almost every book in Navarre. Only ultrarare or forbidden tomes are excluded. When did folklore become either of those? Though, come to think of it, I never came across anything like The Fables of the Barren on the shelves while I was here with Violet. Chimera? Yes. Kraken? Sure. But wyvern or the venin that create them? None. Bizarre.

“That’s all right. Thank you for looking,” she signs back.

“You look different,” she signs to Violet, then hands the cart over. “Not bad different, just…different. Your face is leaner, and even your posture…” She shakes her head.

“I’ve been training.” She pauses “It’s hard, but great, too. I’m getting quicker on the mat.”

“How about you? Is it everything you wanted?” I ask Jesinia.

“It’s everything and more. So much more. The responsibility we have not only to record history but to speed information from the front lines is more than I ever could have imagined, and it’s so fulfilling.” She presses her lips together again.

„Good. I’m happy for you.” And I mean it.

“But I worry for you. Both of you.” She sucks in a breath. “The uptick in attacks along the border…” Concern etches lines into her forehead.

“I know. We hear about them in Battle Brief.” It’s always the same, striking at faltering wards, ransacking villages high in the mountains, and more dead riders.

“And Dain?” she asks Violet as we head for the door. “Have you seen him?”

Her smile falters. “That’s a story for another day.”

She sighs. “I’ll try and be here around this time so I can see you.”

“Sounds wonderful.” I sign as walk through the door she opens.

By the time we return the cart to the library and make it through the lunch line, our time is almost up, which means I’m busy shoveling food in my mouth as fast as I can while the members of my new squad chat around me. But it’s only Violet’s friends and Liam with Ethan. The others…They’ve refused to sit with anyone with a rebellion relic.

So, fuck them.

„It was the coolest thing ever,” Ridoc continues. “One second he was sparring against that third-year with the wicked broadsword skills, and then Sawyer—”

“You could let him tell the story,” Rhiannon chides, rolling her eyes.

“No thank you,” Sawyer counters, shaking his head, staring at his fork with a hefty dose of fear.

Ridoc grins, in all his glory telling the story. “And then the sword just twists in Sawyer’s hand, curving toward the third-year even though Sawyer was way off the mark.” He grimaces in Sawyer’s direction. “Sorry, man, but you were. If your sword hadn’t decided to warp and go straight for that guy’s arm—”

“You’re a metallurgist?” Liam’s eyebrows rise. “Really?”

Holy crap, Sawyer can manipulate metals. I force down a little more turkey and openly stare at him. As far as I know, he’s the first of us to display any form of power, let alone a signet.

Sawyer nods. “That’s what Carr says. Aetos dragged me straight to the professor when he saw it happen.”

“I’m so jealous!” Ridoc grabs his chest. “I want my signet power to manifest!”

“You wouldn’t be so excited if it meant you weren’t sure if your fork would stab into the roof of your mouth because you can’t control it yet.” Sawyer shoves his tray away.

“Good point.” Ridoc looks at his own tray.

“You’ll manifest when your dragon is ready to trust you with all that power,” Quinn says, then finishes off her water. “Just hope your dragons trust you before about six months and—” She makes a sound like an explosion and mimics it with her hands.

“Stop scaring the children,” Imogen says. “That hasn’t happened in”—she pauses to think—“decades.” When we all stare at her, she rolls her eyes. “Look, the relic your dragons transferred onto you at Threshing is the conduit to let all that magic into your body. If you don’t manifest a signet and let it out, then after a bunch of months, bad things happen.”

We all gawk.

“The magic consumes you,” Quinn adds, making the explosion sound again.

“Relax, it’s not like a hard deadline or something. It’s just an average.” Imogen shrugs.

“Fuck me, it’s always something around here,” Ridoc mutters.

“Feeling a little luckier now,” Sawyer says, staring at his fork.

“We’ll get you some wooden utensils,” I tell Sawyer. “And you should probably avoid the armory or sparring with… anything.” I grin at him.

Sawyer scoffs. “That’s the truth. At least I’ll be safe during flight this afternoon.”

Adding flight classes to our schedule has been essential since Threshing. The wings rotate for access to the flight field, and today is one of our lucky days of the week.

I feel a tingle in my scalp and know if I turn, I’ll find Xaden watching us. But I don’t give him the satisfaction of looking. He hasn’t said so much as a word to me since Threshing. And I don’t know what it means. I thought that we had a moment… or something.

But I realised that he ordered others to watch over Vi.

There’s always an upperclassman somewhere near when we’re walking the halls or headed to the gym at night.

And they all have rebellion relics.

It must be because of the bond.

“I like it better when we have it in the morning,” Rhiannon says, her face souring. “It’s way worse after we’ve eaten breakfast and lunch.”

“Agreed,” I manage between mouthfuls.

“I’ll see you tonight.” Imogen says to Violet as she and Quinn clear their trays, taking them back to the window for scullery.

“Is she any nicer when she’s training you?” Rhiannon asks.

“No. But she’s efficient.” She finishes the turkey as the room begins to clear, and we all make our way toward the scullery window.

„What’s Professor Carr like?” I ask Sawyer, then tuck my tray onto the stack. The wielding professor is one of the only ones I haven’t met, since I haven’t manifested a signet.

“Fucking terrifying,” Sawyer answers. “I can’t wait for the entire year to start wielding lessons so everyone can enjoy his particular brand of instruction.”

We head out through commons and the rotunda and into the courtyard, all buttoning up our coats. November has hit hard with gusty winds and frosted grass in the morning, and the first snow isn’t far behind.

“I knew it would work!” Jack Barlowe says ahead of us, dragging someone under his arm and thumping her head affectionately.

“Isn’t that Caroline Ashton?” Rhiannon asks, her mouth hanging open as Caroline heads toward the academic wing with Jack.

“Yeah.” Liam tenses. “She bonded Gleann this morning.”

“Wasn’t he already bonded?” Ethan watches them until they disappear into the wing.

“His rider died on our first flight lesson.” I focus on the gate ahead that leads to the flight field.

“So I guess the unbonded still have that shot they’re looking for,” Rhiannon mutters.

„Yeah.” Liam nods, his features tense. “They do.”

…

“You’re improving. You’ll be a good rider after all.” Aon remarks as we land on the flight field.

“I can’t tell if that’s a compliment or not.” I take deep breaths and try to calm my racing heart.

“Take it as you wish.”

I mentally roll my eyes and scoot out of the seat and I jump to the ground. The move has become so practiced that I barely even think about it anymore. “Besides, you could make it easier, you know.”

„Oh, I know.”

“I’m not the one putting us into spirals with steep banks while Kaori is teaching plain dives.” My feet hit the ground of the field, and I arch an eyebrow at Aon.

“I’m training you for battle. He’s teaching you parlor tricks.” He blinks a golden eye at me and looks away.

“I know you hide something from me. Don’t you want to tell me why we are preparing for battle?” I do all the checks Kaori has taught us, looking for any debris that could have lodged between the long, taloned toes of Aon’s claws or between the rock-hard scales of his underbelly.

“I’m not foolish enough to not know that I have something stuck in my flesh. And I already told you, that you need to learn first. If I were to tell you everything it would only draw unwanted attention. You’re smart. Use your brain, little one.”

“Fine.” I sigh. “And eventually you could call me Aelin, you know.” I take the time to examine every row of his scales. One of the biggest dangers to dragons are the smallest things they can’t remove that penetrate between the scales, causing infection.

“I know,” he replies. “And I could call you Sunshine like the wingleader.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” I narrow my eyes as I move forward, checking where his chest begins to rise. “And you know how much that ass annoys me.”

“Annoys you?” Aon chuckles above me, the sound like a chuffing cat. “Is that what you call it when your heart rate—”

“Don’t even start with me.”

A growl rumbles through Aon’s chest above me and vibrates my very bones.

I turn around to see what made Aon annoyed.

It’s Dain. He approaches Violet.

Oh shit. I know that they haven’t spoken to each other since Threshing.

“You should watch over your friend. He seems angry.”

“Thanks mother hen, I can see it. But I won’t interfere, they need to talk it out.” I say as I watch them.

“Fine. But if he touches you, I will scorch him.” Aon grumbles.

“What? Why would he touch me?” I ask him.

„I’m hungry. I think I’ll partake in a flock of sheep.” He launches with great beats of his wings.

Hm. Interesting.

I see as Violet motions at Rhiannon to go on without her, and she walks ahead with the others, leaving Dain and her to bring up the rear.

I fall back at the edge of the field. I won’t leave her alone with him after Aon’s comment.

I act like someone who is looking for something in the grass. No one has accused me of creativity yet.

“Why didn’t you tell me you can’t keep your fucking seat?” I hear Dain shouts at her, grabbing her elbow.

What the fuck?

“I’m sorry?!” Violet yanks her arm out of his hold.

“All this time, I’ve been letting Kaori teach you, thinking he must have everything under control. After all, if the rider of the strongest dragon in the quadrant couldn’t keep her seat, then surely we’d all know.” He rips his hand over his hair. “Surely I would know if my best friend fell every fucking day that she flew!”

“It’s not a secret!” She shouts back. “Everyone in our wing knows! I’m sorry if you haven’t been keeping tabs on your squad, but trust me, Dain. Everyone knows. And I’m not going to stand here while you lecture me like I’m a child.” Violet turns around to follow our wing.

“You didn’t tell me,” he says, anger in his voice giving way to hurt as he catches up with her as I walk slowly after them.

“There’s not a problem.” She shakes her head. “Tairn can keep me buckled in magically if he needs to. I’m the one asking him to loosen the restraints. And I’d think twice before you question him. He’s more of the char-first-ask-questions-later type.”

“It’s a huge problem, because he can’t channel—

Oh shit, Dain. You’re digging your own grave.

„His full powers?” She asks as we make it out of the field, heading toward the steps that descend next to the Gauntlet. “I know that. Why do you think I’m up there asking him to loosen up?”

“You’ve been flying for a month, and you’re still falling.” I hear his voice as he follows Violet down the staircase.

“So is half the wing, Dain!”

“Not a dozen times, they aren’t,” he shoots back. He’s on her heels as she picks up her pace toward the path that will lead back to the citadel. “I just want to help you, Vi. How can I help?”

I halt at the mouth of the tunnel to give them some place. I’ve never seen Violet so angry before.

But I’m proud of her.

I slowly walk after them. I hope they’re done with the arguing.

„This place cuts away the bullshit and the niceties, revealing whoever you are at your core.” I hear Violet’s voice. “Isn’t that what you said to me? Is this who you really are at your core? Someone so enamored with rules that he doesn’t know when to bend or break them for someone he cares about? Someone so focused on the least I’m capable of doing, he can’t believe I can do so much more?”

Come on Vi, tell him!

“Let’s get one thing straight, Dain.” She takes a step closer. “The reason we’ll never be anything more than friends isn’t because of your rules. It’s because you have no faith in me. Even now, when I’ve survived against all odds and bonded not just one dragon but two, you still think I won’t make it. So forgive me, but you’re about to be some of the bullshit that this place cuts away from me.”

Sunlight overpowers me for a second as I walk into the courtyard after Vi. Classes are out for the afternoon, and I see Xaden and Garrick leaned up against the wall of the academic building like gods surveying their domain.

Xaden arches a dark eyebrow as she passes by.

She flips him the middle finger.

Oh wow, she is really pissed off.

“Everything all right?” I ask as I catch up to her.

“Dain is an ass—”

“Make it stop!” someone screams, rushing down the steps of the rotunda and holding his head. It’s a first-year in Third Wing who sits two rows beneath me in Battle Brief and perpetually drops his quill. “For gods’ sake, make it stop!” he shrieks, stumbling into the courtyard.

My hands hover over my blades.

A shadow moves to my left, and a glance tells me Xaden has moved, casually putting himself just ahead of Violet.

My heart clenches.

The crowd hollows, forming a circle around the first-year as he screams, clutching his head.

“Jeremiah!” someone shouts, coming forward.

“You!” Jeremiah spins, pointing his finger at the third-year. “You think I’ve lost it!” His head tilts, and his eyes flare. “How does he know? He shouldn’t know!” His tone shifts, like the words aren’t his own.

Chills race down my spine, dragging my stomach to the ground. Oh fuck.

“And you!” He spins again, pointing at a second-year in First Wing. “What the hell is wrong with him? Why is he screaming?” He turns again, focused on Dain. “Is Violet going to hate me forever? Why can’t she see that I just want to keep her alive? How is he…? He’s reading my thoughts!”

Jeremiah’s signet power is manifesting. He can read minds—an inntinnsic. His power is a death sentence.

Violet stumbles backward on my left—gently shoved back—and I don’t need to look to know whose muscled arm now brushes my shoulder as Violet stands behind us. The scent of mint somehow steadies my heartbeat. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Liam as he stands on my right.

Jeremiah unsheathes his shortsword. “Make it stop! Can’t any of you see? The thoughts won’t stop!” His panic is palpable, clogging my own throat.

“Do something,” Violet begs Xaden, glancing up at him.

His unwavering, lethal focus is on Jeremiah, but his body tenses at her plea.

“Start mentally reciting whatever book you can think of.” I turn to Violet.

“I’m sorry?” She asks, looking at me with wide eyes.

„If you value your secrets, clear your thoughts. Now,” I order her. “He’s an inntinnsic and you really don’t want him to read your mind.”

“And you!” Jeremiah turns, his gaze locking on Garrick. “Damn it all to hell. He’ll know about—” The shadows around Jeremiah’s feet snake up his legs in a heartbeat, winding around his chest until they cover his mouth in bands of black.

I swallow the boulder in my throat.

Damn. I don’t want to know what Garrick was thinking.

A professor pushes through the crowd, his shock of white hair bouncing with every step of his large frame.

“He’s an inntinnsic!” someone shouts, and that seems to be all that’s necessary.

The professor grips Jeremiah’s head with both hands, and a crack echoes off the walls of the silent courtyard. Xaden’s shadows melt away and Jeremiah falls to the ground, his head at an unnatural, macabre angle. His neck is broken.

The professor bends down and lifts Jeremiah’s body with surprising strength, carrying him into the rotunda.

Xaden inhales sharply beside me, then walks away with Garrick, headed toward the academic wing. Nice to see you, too.

“Maybe I don’t want a signet power after all,” Ridoc murmurs.

“That death is merciful compared to what will happen if you don’t manifest one,” Dain says, and I swear I start to feel my relic burn across my back even though my dragon hasn’t started channeling.

“And that,” Sawyer says from Rhiannon’s side, “was Professor Carr.”

…

“What did you learn today?” I hear a voice and see The General in front of me.

“What?” I ask slightly disoriented.

Where am I? And how did I get here?

“Don’t you even understand simple questions? You’re useless!” He steps closer with a dagger in his hand. “What did that marked boy thought when the inntinnsic read his mind?”

“I… I don’t know.” I stutter as I tried to step back, but my legs don’t move. “I didn’t hear anything.”

“Don’t lie to me!” He shouts and steps closer. “Your only value is the information you bring. Now tell me!”

“I didn’t hear anything! I swear.” I whisper in a broken voice. I can’t betray them.

“Would you die for them?” He growls inches from me.

“Please.” I beg and I see as he raises his dagger, ready to use it.

I shut my eyes and I can feel tears running down on my face.

„WAKE.” A familiar, consuming voice rumbles through my dreams. A voice that doesn’t belong here.

“You’re useless. I should have let you die.”

„Wake up!” The walls around me tremble, and my heart jolts. “Now!”

My eyes fly open, and I gasp as the dream disintegrates. I’m not there. I’m in my room in the Riders Quadrant.

It was a nightmare. Only a nightmare.

“Move!” Aon bellows. “Your friend is in danger!”

What?

I quickly get up and grab my daggers as I wipe off my tears.

“Violet? Is she in danger?” I ask Aon as I run out of my room.

I wear the armor which Mira gave me, and a short. It’s not the best for a fight but it will do.

“Yes.”

I quickly made my way toward Violet’s room and my blood freezes at scene what I see after I open her door.

One of the unbonded is gripping Vi’s throat as he holds her against the wall.

“Now you’re fucking dead!” I growl at them as I feel the rage inside me.

“Shit. It’s Melgren!” One of them shouts as they turn toward me.

I move my blade and fend off one attack from the left, slicing down a woman’s forearm, and then another to the right, stabbing into a man’s thigh. I quickly bring up my dagger and slice it across his throat.

I can feel his blood on my face, but I don’t have time to wipe it off.

I kick out with my heel and catch another in the gut as he attacks, sending him careening back onto Violet’s bed, his sword tumbling after him.

“Stop, or I will kill her!” I hear the man says who holds Violet.

I freeze and look at them. He holds his dagger against Violet’s throat.

Shit. I try to come up with a plan to save us, but they have the advantage.

Think Aelin! Think!

“Drop your daggers!” He orders. “Now!”

I open my hands and I hear my daggers rattle on the floor.

The woman whose arm was cut quickly collects them.

“Now you’re not that confident aren’t you?” The other man who is with them asks as he punches me in the face.

Damn. It hurts.

I can feel the blood in my mouth. My lips been split.

“Cat got your tounge, Melgren?” He teases.

“You hit like a girl.” I say as I spit the blood in his face.

“Bitch.” He growls and lands a punch in my ribs.

I bend forward trying to catch my breath, and he kicks my legs out from under me.

“Do you have anything else to say?” He asks as he grabs my hair and pulls my head back.

„He’s almost there!” Aon promises, panic lacing his tone.

He who? I can’t breathe.

“Oh, a lot.” I smile at him mockingly. I try to distract them until ‘he’ arrives.

I hear a crack and pain radiates from my nose along with my blood.

He fucking broke my nose.

“Finish her!” one of them yells toward Violet’s captor. “He’ll only respect us if we finish her!”

Shit. They’re after Tairn.

Air rushes into my lungs as I watch as cold metal caresses her throat, the oxygen flooding my blood and clearing my head enough to realize this is it. We’re going to die. From one heartbeat to what will probably be my last, an overwhelming sorrow seizes my chest, and I can’t help but wonder if I would have made it. Would I have been strong enough to graduate? Would I have become worthy of Aon?

The bedroom door flies open, the wood splintering as it slams against the stone wall, but I don’t have a chance to turn to see who is standing there before I can feel something strange.

I lock eyes with Vi and it’s as if everyone in this room is frozen in place…except us.

#fourth wing #fanfiction #fourth wing fanfic #liam mairi #the fourth wing #violet sorrengail #xaden riorson #oc #the empyrean #xaden x oc #tairn #dragons #madness #ridoc gamlyn #sawyer fourth wing #rhiannon matthias #imogen fourth wing

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gold-rhine · 2 months

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Sending An Opinion Ask Game: "genshin has mediocre writing"

mostly agree, but with caveats? like the writing itself, as in word choice, like actual sentences, are meh to mediocre, tho idk how much its on text or on translation. it also obv suffers horrendously from having to repeat itself 5 times in row thru paimon to make sure all children\twitch streamers got whats happened

characterization ranges from abyssmal to excellent, with no correlation to how important character is in story, and can change for same character depending if they got lucky with a writer on current event

the plot structure and theme coherence started average and got decent in sumeru and then actually pretty good in fontaine.

overall i think genshin is in that spot of mediocre with sometimes spikes of very good, but also trenches of horrible, that is fun to chew a lot, bc it has enough space for exploration that things with actually great and tight writing don't leave, and also the peaks give impulse to try and bring the trenches up in comparison. if that makes sense

#rhine talks

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arrowofcarnations · 7 months

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Fic-O-Ween 2023 Day 4: Dead End

Some Luke/Logan friendship for day four of the fest (@noots-fic-fests)! Thanks to @lumosinlove for creating these two, and special thanks to @fruitcoops for beta-reading this and being an all-around excellent friend and hype noot. <3

Title: Birds of a Feather Characters: Luke Deveaux, Logan Tremblay Rating: G

(Contains Vaincre spoilers!)

“Luke and I have been running along the river. You know, the Hudson River path? It’s been kinda warm so sometimes we lay out after. There’s a park with grass. It’s nice.” (Logan, Vaincre, May Part Two)

They didn’t have a set schedule or anything. It would happen like this: Luke would text him something like “Run tomorrow? Gonna be nice out,” Logan would send a thumbs-up, and they’d pick an access point along the path to meet—sometimes a familiar one, sometimes a new one way uptown or downtown so they could try out a different route. That’s how it happened in the beginning, at least. Now Logan texted first sometimes, too.

Neither of them were runners the way Finn was, both preferring to keep it down to a few easy miles at most. Sometimes they’d stop so Luke could pet a dog, or so Logan could take a picture of the view to send to his boys. It was…well, nice, like he’d told Leo. Grounding. Head-clearing. Nice, too, to hang out with Luke outside of practice, travel and team dinners.

He had other real friends in New York, of course—with Alex, Percy and Will as his teammates, it still kind of shocked Logan just how many friends he had here—but there was a level of understanding with Luke that was unique. Alex and Percy were loud, outgoing, hearts-on-their-sleeves people. Will was a thousand times more patient and level-headed than Logan could ever be. But Luke—Luke was a lot like him. A hundred silent thoughts for every one said aloud. Guarded around new people. Tough shells, Leo had said of the two of them. Logan supposed that was as good a phrase to characterize it as any. He just knew he was thankful for it.

On this particular day—the warmest they’d had since they’d started doing this together—they hooked up with the path near the George Washington Bridge and headed south, flanked by rows of still-blooming cherry trees lining the river. They’d timed it late enough in the afternoon for the crowds of cyclists, families and dog-walkers to have thinned slightly, but with enough daylight left so they could finish before dark. Streaks of orange and pink were starting to paint the sky by the time they reached Riverside Park. They found an empty spot and planted themselves there; the grass was cool on Logan’s skin as he flopped down on his back, only raising his head to take a sip of water before going boneless.

“Do you have a good route in Gryff?”

Logan’s gaze traveled from the wispy clouds overhead to Luke sitting beside him, bent over his own thigh in a stretch.

“Ouais, kind of,” he replied. He liked that Luke never used the past tense when they talked about Gryffindor, about his life there. “I usually go with Finn—he has his favorites. There’s one we do in the old part of the city that’s good. You know the Godric’s Hollow neighborhood?”

Luke nodded, switching to the other leg. “Hazard dragged us to a bakery there on some little dead-end street once.”

An ache Logan was now familiar with pinged briefly in his chest. Race you to the door. Damn, I can smell those croissants. C’mon, Lo baby, I’ll buy you something sweet. “I know the one. Pretty sure he built the route around that bakery. Even when Knutty and I sleep in, he’ll bring us back something.”

It was a relief to not have to pick and choose his words when it came to Finn and Leo. So new, and still so strange. Had there ever been a time before the last few weeks when he didn’t have to worry about implications?

Finished with his stretch, Luke sat up straight and rolled his neck and shoulders a few times before grabbing his own water bottle. “He’s a morning guy, eh?”

Logan nodded. “Annoyingly so. He needs a coffee in one hand and a book in the other just to keep him in bed past eight.”

Luke gave a hum of acknowledgement, then chugged the rest of his water. He was quiet long enough that Logan was about to ask something else, but then Luke, staring out at the water, said, “Saint’s the same way.”

It was a good thing that Logan had already noticed, that he’d already suspected as much, because it was easy to keep his expression neutral. He was surprised, though; not because Luke and Saint were a thing, but because Luke had told him about it.

“He’s a morning runner?” he asked, staying put in his casual sprawl as though no big news had just been dropped.

“No, yoga. Out on his balcony, ass crack of dawn, with this ugly tie-dye bandana on his head.”

Logan laughed, loud and bright, and it startled a little laugh out of Luke, too. “Goalies are crazy.”

Luke’s shoulders, which had been creeping up toward his ears, dropped; his whole body seemed to relax by several degrees, and he smiled. “They’re nuts.”

They both let the lull in conversation stretch for a little while after that. Luke eventually laid down under the waning sun like Logan was, both of them watching the sky as the city provided a familiar soundtrack of birds, dogs, people and distant traffic. Logan thought about how Luke helped make New York feel like a home away from home. About how nice, how necessary, it was to carve out new routines and memories in a place that was so tangled up with his memories of Finn, and how Luke seemed to know that, how he’d been helping Logan do that without ever discussing it. Though, he guessed part of it was that Luke simply wanted to hang out with him because he liked him.

Liked him and trusted him. Logan wasn’t sure how he’d earned that, but he knew he’d do his best to keep it.

And because he liked Luke, too, he had to turn his head on the grass to look at him and find out what the two of them were dealing with, even if it was awkward.

“Do the other guys know?”

Luke shook his head.

“Your families?”

Another head shake.

“Have you talked about it? You and him.”

Luke glanced away, then snapped his eyes back to Logan like he was making himself stick this out. Logan understood that more than he could put into words. “Not really. It’s—a thing, but not…no one’s said boyfriend. It’s not like Black and Lupin. Or you three.”

“D’accord.”

Luke didn’t ask him not to tell anyone. He didn’t need to.

“You don’t seem surprised,” Luke said after a moment.

Logan shrugged. “Not because—I didn’t hear anything from anyone. I think maybe I can see it because I lived it for so long.”

Luke looked like he was taking that in for a second. Logan hoped he got it right. He wasn’t Finn, who always knew just what to say to anyone, or Leo, who made people feel comfortable with the kindness that radiated from him like sunlight. But Luke nodded, tossed him a stick of gum, and started talking about their upcoming game on Tuesday, so Logan figured he hadn’t fucked it up too badly.

They talked hockey until they really started to lose the light, then made their way through the park toward the street, walking fast to keep warm as dusk ushered the spring chill back in. They lived close enough to share an uber, and Luke called one as they reached the curb.

Logan pulled out his phone as they waited; Finn had correctly guessed where he was just from a blurry picture of one of the pink-petaled trees from earlier, and Leo sent a selfie of the two of them with goofy grins from ear to ear and a love you, gonna kiss you in 2 days!!!. He forgot all about the weather, warmed from the inside out at the sight of them. He wanted that for Luke and Saint, too. He wanted it for everyone who still had to hide, who still told themselves they weren’t allowed to have it.

The car pulled up in front of them and, just before they got in, Luke put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing briefly.

“Thanks, Tremz,” he said, tone casual but green-brown eyes sincere. “For real.”

“No worries,” Logan said, a phrase he’d picked up from Leo. “Get in, I’m fucking freezing.”

Luke shoved him, then climbed into the car. Logan followed his friend close behind.

#sweater weather lumosinlove #vaincre lumosinlove #o'knutzy #st tweedle #my fic #ficoween 2023

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