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porcelana-r0ta · 10 months

Text

let the mourners come

Title: let the mourners come

Ao3 Link: Only available to Ao3 users

Word Count: 3045

Summary:

It started, as most things do with Danny Fenton, as a joke.

It ended, as most things do with Jazz Fenton, with things better than they were before.

xxXxx

When Danny finally gets a Twitter, it’s during Elon Musk’s shit show takeover. He’s able to secure a good Twitter handle thanks to people leaving en masse and fleeing to Tumblr. He knows about things that happen outside of Amity Park (he is terminally online rather than chronically, after all), but he still doesn’t think anything of using @TheJoker as his handle, even knowing about Gotham City’s clown troubles. It’s just going to be a shitpost account, anyway, one that dances in the chaos of Elon’s electronic graveyard. Nothing will come about him using @TheJoker when he’s merely posting things like, “Just grew a new row of teeth!!! very pointy but can’t go to the dentist anymore bc they might turn me in to the giw.”

So Danny honestly never foresaw The Actual Real Joker breaking out of Arkham Asylum all the way in Gotham City, New Jersey, and deciding to get a Twitter account to terrorize people online as well as offline. And he definitely never foresaw The Joker @’ing him on Twitter, demanding that Danny change his Twitter handle. But, well. Here he was.

[Image Description: A screenshot of a Twitter reply chain, starting with the real Joker @'ing Danny's Twitter account, which uses TheJoker as his Twitter handle. The Joker, who has a verified account, demands that Danny "change your handle", and Danny replies with a simple "no" followed by red heart emoji. The Joker Tweets, "Kid you don't know who you're fucking with," to which Danny replies, "Ye I do ur some dude w/ poor fashion sense and lame jokes. Maybe try badjokesbyjeff bc originality is ugly on u" followed by a shrugging emoticon. The Joker responds, "Check your DMs." Danny then responds, "Perf [happy emoji surrounded by hearts] I've sent you a time and place. Can't wait to beat the shit out of another disgrace of a clown." Someone with the username "Gregg rulz ok" responds to Danny's last Tweet, "Bro is absolutely RATIOING the joker but the clown keeps responding [three skull emojis] embarrassing frfr too bad he's gonna die for realsies".

End ID]

Danny is quick to respond and then makes even quicker work of roasting The Joker. This soon results in The Joker DMing him his IP Address and a creative threat. Still, Danny isn’t about to cow to a clown with no respect for the art of clowning. He replies to the DM:

Cool, meet me at the Nasty Burger parking lot in Amity Park IL on tuesday at 2am

The response from The Joker is quick:

Fourteen year olds are too confident these days

Danny rolls his eyes and ignores the influx of notifications from Twitter, and instead makes another Tweet.

Imagine beefing with someone over a Twitter handle lol acc so embarrassing for him

He blackens his screen and stretches in bed, letting his spine pop more than what is humanly possible. He runs his tongue over that second row of teeth, his lips curling into a grin.

xxXxx

Gothamite Twitter is blowing up over The Joker’s social media beef with a faceless shitposting account. Jason, upon finding out about it, has a series of reactions: first, he looks up the shitposter and follows them. Then, he finds the actual chain between the poster and The Joker, and his vision goes vibrant green when he sees that The Joker’s profile picture is of the second Robin, beaten and swollen in an abandoned building in Ethiopia.

When his vision clears and he can breathe without wanting to kill, he likes the shitposter’s replies, and he calls the Replacement to see if the other Bats know already.

“We know,” Tim says in lieu of a hello when the ringing cuts out. “We’re working on it.”

“What, you think anything’s gonna come of it?” But even as Jason asks, he already knows the answer. The Joker is unhinged and once he’s threatened something, he’ll follow up unless he comes up with a “funnier” option.

Tim’s breath hitches, and he says, “I’ve hacked their DMs. Joker knows the kid’s IP address and sent it to him. He knows everything from that address alone.”

He pauses in the middle of suiting up, “Kid?”

He hears Tim swallow, “Yes, kid. He’s fifteen. And he gave The Joker a specific time and place to meet up to fight. In his own hometown.”

“Are— are you fucking kidding me?”

“No. B is already calling Nightwing. We’re taking the Batwing to Illinois.”

“Jesus fuck. I’ll be there in twenty.”

“Hood, I—”

“Shut up, I’m already in my gear.” He hangs up without waiting for a response.

He refreshes the Twitter feed and barks a laugh at the newest Tweet:

Jason Todd votes, and the Red Hood leaves his safe house.

xxXxx

A commercial flight to Illinois takes around two and a half hours. In the Batwing, they get there in an hour, and don’t even have to worry about the drive from Chicago to a small speck of a town like Amity Park. They spend the quick flight learning everything they can about Daniel James Fenton, the owner of the Twitter account, and they can all sense the growing tension from (and between) Bruce and Jason.

But, well. Jason doesn’t care. Let them be uncomfortable. It doesn’t compare to being ripped back into life and finding out his dad didn’t even get justice for his death.

When they reach town, it doesn’t take long to find the Fentons’ home. This is in part because Amity Park is a very navigable town, and because of the giant neon sign proclaiming FentonWorks on the side of the building.

“Is that a blimp?” Dick asks. “Why don’t we have a blimp?”

“Where would we keep it?” the Demon Brat counters practically. “Goliath takes up all of the Cave’s extra space.”

Jason rolls his eyes and knows veins would be popping out of Bruce’s forehead if it weren’t for the cowl.

“Let’s go,” Bruce says instead, and they all make their way to the house.

Nightwing, predictably, goes for the front door approach. Jason rolls his eyes as he takes one of the second-story windows and finds his way downstairs.

He gets down at the same time that a redheaded girl answers the door and nearly slams it in Dick’s face. Jason has to suppress snickers at the sight.

“Wait, wait, wait, are you Jazz Fenton? We need to talk to your brother!”

“...We?” she asks, then tenses and turns around to see the rest of the Bats in the hall behind her. Dick takes the opportunity to step in completely, closing the door behind him. “Wha— what’s going on?”

“Where are your parents, Jazz?” Bruce makes every question sound like a demand. Jason rolls his eyes from behind his mask—way to put the teenager at ease, B.

“Why do you need to know?” Her voice has a defensive edge to it. “What do you want with Danny?”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Nightwing comforts. “He didn’t do anything too bad, just said some dumb things online. It’s not his fault.”

This relaxes her, and her shoulders begin un-hunching. “Oh, s-so what’d he do?”

“He foolishly challenged The Joker to a battle in a ‘Nasty Burger’ parking lot tonight.”

“You could’ve had some more tact, Robin,” Nightwing scolds. But the Demon Spawn just crosses his arms.

“He did what?” Jazz shrieks. “Like, The Joker from Gotham? That Joker?”

“Are there others?” Red Hood comments dryly.

Her face goes through several different emotions—disbelief, rage, fear, and then rage again, “DANIEL JAMES FENTON! GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!”

There’s a thumping noise, and then frantic footsteps down the stairs.

“Wha? Who died?” asks the figure of a tiny fifteen-year-old, smaller than even Jason had been when he was alone with The Joker. He’s tiny and lanky. Zero muscle definition. Eye bags to rival the Replacement’s. Something ripples in the Pit, deep and distinct, but he can’t name what causes it.

Oh, this kid is so dead.

“Danny,” says Jazz calmly while Danny blinks uncomprehendingly at the heroes in their hallway. She is solemn when she says, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to kill you now.”

“What did I do?”

She stares at him, “Why have you scheduled a fight with The Joker?”

“Oh, that.” He rubs the back of his neck, “Is he taking that seriously?”

“Of course he is, Danny! It’s The Joker! That’s what he does! He can’t differentiate between a joke and reality! He would tear off his own face for the bit!”

“Oof,” is all Danny can muster. He digs his phone out and starts typing before Jazz yanks it out his hand.

“You’re fucking TWEETING about this?” Jazz asks incredulously, and Hood’s hackles rise. She even reads the Tweet aloud, “‘Just found out @TheJ0ker is being fr about fighting me. Sad but i can take a clown.’”

“I was gonna add ‘i’ve done it b4,’ but like the letter and the number four. But yeah.”

“You’re grounded forever.” Danny opens his mouth to protest, but the look Jazz cuts at him is so scathing that he shuts his mouth. Hood is reluctantly impressed—she had what could be cultivated into a fantastic Batglare. She pockets the phone, “You’re never getting this phone back. Taunting The Joker to Amity? Have you any brain cells? What if he brings Joker gas with him, huh? Or any of his goons? What if he starts hurting other people? Have you thought any of this through?”

Danny’s face goes from tired to chastised, his lips drawing into a frown, especially at the mention of other people.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t think that he’d take it so seriously.”

“He sent you your IP Address.”

“I thought that was just a random string of numbers?”

“Oh my god,” Jazz despairs. “Oh my god. Grounded forever. See, I know you're lying to me. I know you're lying because Tucker, the nerdiest tech nerd to have ever been born, is your best friend.”

He rubs the back of his neck, “I tune him out?”

“You’re still lying to me?” Jazz scoffs and turns to Batman, “Do whatever you want with him. I’m not going to defend him from this.”

“Hey!” complained her brother, but Batman just continued on, “Where are your parents?”

“They’re in Sweden for a science convention,” Jazz answers. “They left this morning.”

Damn, Jason curses to himself.

“Jazz, seriously. You’re not gonna let Batman kill me, right?”

“Do you want to be cremated or buried, Danny?” Jazz asks blasély, and Danny gulps, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.

“It’s my Twitter handle,” he mutters petulantly, and Jason can’t believe the gall of this kid. Or maybe stupidity. Audacity’s a good one, too. “If he wanted it, he should’ve gotten it first. And he gives clowns a bad name.”

“Not the clown thing again.” Jazz digs her palms into her eyes, sighs, then turns to the heroes. “He has a whole clown thing ever since Circus Gothica came to town and robbed a bunch of jewelry stores.”

Danny gestures wildly with his hands, as if demonizing clowns was the real problem and not the egomaniacal mass murderer who wanted to murder him for his Twitter handle, “Clowning is an art form, Jazz, and people like Freakshow and The Joker make a mockery of the very serious societal statements that clowns make!”

All of the Bats very carefully Did Not look at Nightwing, who has made very similar rants on quiet patrols.

“You are never leaving this house again,” she says serenely. “And I’m unplugging the wifi router.”

“You would punish even yourself?”

“Oh, little brother. I would watch the world burn if it meant knocking sense into your thick skull.”

“Okay, Christ,” Red Hood finally interrupted the siblings’ melodrama. An unyielding redheaded girl and a mouthy black-haired, blue-eyed boy? They’d fit in a little too well back at the Manor, so Jason needs to cut this shit out before Bruce’s bat-doption instincts start tingling. “Stop. Just… Christ. Stop. Is this how you always interact with each other?”

“Sometimes there’s explosions,” Danny pipes up, a cheeky grin on his face.

Jazz doesn’t dispute it.

Fucking hell. God damn it. I can’t. I just can’t.

Batman doesn’t give anything away, “Robin and Red Robin will be staying here with you until Nightwing, Hood, and I apprehend The Joker. First, we’re going to check the perimeter.”

“Oooh, I get to give the lab tour!”

Lab?

“No lab. You’re grounded. You’ll only be in there for cleaning duty now.”

“Wh– hey! No fair!”

“What’s this lab you two are talking about?” Red Robin asks before Jazz can rip into her brother again.

She sighs, “Our parents’ lab. I’ll show you, but someone needs to stay with Danny.”

“You act like I’m gonna run off and start World War III….”

“I wonder why,” she says sarcastically.

Batman nods to Robin, who nods back, and the rest of them follow Jazz out of the living room to a metal reinforced door. She types in a code—Jason catches the numbers 03-14-99. There’s an assenting beep, and she opens the door, flicking on the lights and leading them down into what is apparently a basement lab.

A stone settles in Red Hood’s stomach, cold and heavy.

The basement is large, likely the floor size of the entire building. There are several work tables, filled with miscellaneous blueprints and spare parts and weapons and tools. Against the farthest wall is another armored door, but what draws Hood’s—and the entire Batclan’s—attention is the south wall, where a circular hole in the wall was glowing a toxic Pit green.

The stone shattered in his stomach, splintering into his body. Is it harder or easier to breathe? Jason can’t tell.

“Wow,” says Nightwing. His voice is cheerful, but Jason can feel the stress beneath it. “Do I even want to know?”

Wasn’t this supposed to just be typical Joker bullshit?

“Our parents are ectobiologists,” Jazz explains nonchalantly, walking further into the lab. “As in, ghost biologists.” She pauses at one of the work tables, picking up a green and white thermos. Pretty boring, considering the rest of their surroundings.

“Ghosts.” Red Robin’s voice is carefully neutral.

“Ghosts,” Jazz reaffirms. “I know. I thought they were crazy at first, too. But I can prove it, if you like.” Then, without waiting for a yes or no, she untwists the thermos, and there’s a bright flash of white, and a whole entire body sprouting out of it.

“WHOO! I’M FREE!” cries the…being, pale and floating and lanky and entirely too big to have fit into a fucking thermos, of all the fucking things. “....And not in the Realms? Wait.” He stops stretching, descending to rest closer to the ground, but still hovering a few inches from the floor. He’s got green eyes and lifeless (ha) blond hair. He’s wearing a trenchcoat and a green skull necklace. Overall, he looks like the type of thug he’d arrest in the Bowery.

“Hello, Johnny.” The man’s—ghost’s?—eyes flicker around each person in the room, his gaze becoming more and more confused and panicked as he takes in each Bat, before settling on Jazz Fenton.

“Why are the fucking Bats here?”

“The Joker’s coming to Amity,” she says. The ghost’s eyes widen. Jazz tilts her head, “How many ghosts would you say passed away in Gotham, Johnny?”

As Jason and the Bats tense, this Johnny guy lets out a wicked laugh, “Oh, Doll, you have the best surprises. Why did we break up?”

“You did try to have my body possessed. That ruins any good relationship.”

“Man, but Kitty’ll love this. Thanks for letting me out of Soup Time, Doll.” He floats higher, “Any advice?”

She throws him the phone she’d confiscated from Danny and he catches it easily, “Everything’s on here. Have fun.”

“What exactly are you planning?” Batman scowls.

Johnny laughs, “Aww, don’t worry, Bats. Peace and love on Planet Earth, or whatever. We’ll make it quick.” Then, as the Bats leap into action as one, Johnny turns invisible, the Batarangs passing harmlessly through where he’d once been floating.

“Where did he go?” Batman turns his scowl, angrier than ever, to Jazmin Fenton, who stares back unflinchingly. “He’s going to solve the problem.”

“You mean he’s going to kill The Joker.”

She shakes her head, “Oh, no. That’d just be asking for him to come back as a ghost. Could you imagine a Joker with powers like invisibility, intangibility, flight, and more? Johnny can be impulsive, but he’s smart. None of them will kill The Joker.”

“Then what are they going to do?” Red Robin asks.

“My parents are ectobiologists,” Jazz repeats from earlier. “But I am more of an anthro-ectopologist. I am concerned with the study of ectoplasmic beings’ societies and cultures. And while it is very ancient, there is protocol in the Infinite Realms—that is, where you go when you die, should you remain after death—to prosecute living criminals who have killed a certain number of Realms citizens. So you don’t have to worry about your moral code, Batman. The Joker will be tried by a much fairer court than Gotham can ever hope to have. No offense.”

Jason stares at Jazz Fenton, who he’d pegged as the sane sibling. He’s not so sure now, but he can’t say he hates it.

“And how do we know it’s a fair trial?” Nightwing asks.

She waves her hand, “Oh, as Gotham’s Knights, you’re key witnesses. I’m sure you’ll be summoned to testify. You will see then. And don’t worry about your secret identities—the dead don’t care much for that sort of thing.”

“So if this is a ‘fair’ trial or whatever, The Joker’s going to be locked up forever?” Jason asks. “I mean, that’s the only option for shit like him.”

Batman sends him a look, but he ignores it.

“Well, there are several different punishments that could be deemed appropriate, but he’ll never be able to set foot in the mortal world again, yes.”

Jason Todd grins, “Oh, I’m glad your brother’s stupid, kid.”

She sighs, long-suffering, “Well, that makes one of us. Still, there’s more important things we should discuss now that you’re here.”

“More important than The Joker trying to kill your brother over a Twitter handle?” Red Robin asks doubtfully.

Jazz smiles, sharp and dangerous, and asks, ”Have you ever heard of the Anti-Ecto Acts?”

xxXxx

Several months later when Danny is finally un-grounded, he Tweets his last three Tweets before Twitter can become the foolishly named X:

Imagine bullying the Joker so hard that it not only lands the Joker in ghost prison BUT it also leads to major law reform in the US lmao someone make the domino effect meme about this pls

Y’allre replying to me with thanks like i did anything other than be an internet troll. My sister literally manipulated local, federal, and interdimensional law so you should be thanking her.

i just a babie 🥺🥺🥺

xxXxx

Thanks for reading! This is the whole fic, so pls do not ask for tags! Thank you :)

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #danny phantom #danny fenton #jazz fenton #jason todd #batman #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #the joker #johnny 13 #severely ooc

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katiapostsss · 2 months

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𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 . . p. I ,, anakin skywalker

🎬//

teaser:

midnight worries

lead to sundresses and zippers.

ᶜ ʰ ᵃ ʳ ᵃ ᶜ ᵗ ᵉ ʳ ˢ : modern!anakin x fem! reader

warnings! :

swearing ,, talk of sex.

SUMMARY: in a fit of worry and concern for an upcoming date, you go to your roommate, anakin, for advice, putting aside your hatred for him.

〰️

| part 2 >

(based on this request. hope u like it!)

not one crevice of the earth can escape rain's wrath.

new york was beautiful, but it was also unkempt. maybe once, long ago, precipitation could've washed away the filth of shoes scuffing concrete and lingering ash, but now, no matter how much its streets are doused, cigarette smoke will forever hang in the air, dirt will forever pollute the ground.

therefore, rain only existed to annoy you.

you stood so close to the roof's edge overhead, that ricocheting water lightly sprinkled the toes of your shoes, unbelieving that this was really happening to you in that moment. your hall laid across the wide expanse of the campus, on the completely opposite side of your english class, which you clung to the perimeters of now. not 2 hours ago, when you had first walked here, the sky had been clear of any clouds, blue and cheery and happy, but now, gray swirls bruised its skin, sinking the air with moisture. of course you hadn't thought to bring an umbrella! you couldn't even ask to borrow one, either. having stayed after class, no one lurked behind once you were done catching up on the work.

so, not only would it take several minutes to walk back to your dorm, getting soaked in the process, but it only meant you'd have to take a shower immediately afterwards. you couldn't climb in bed with rain clinging to your skin, after all.

hence the reason you stood in quiet shock, hoping to whomever listened that if you kept still enough, you'd somehow open your eyes and find yourself in your bedroom. which—

"y/n?" you quickly looked up from the ground, eyes straying to the direction from which your name came from. they met green irises. henry. the kid who sat in the back, two rows from yours. the kid known only for his intelligence academically, not for his person or his role. he was antisocial in ways even you weren't, opting always for the last seat and the quietest corner. you were pretty shy, sure, but you could enjoy a good party here and there. henry though? his black-rimmed glasses fogged slightly under the pressure of the palpable humidity, black curls falling in a charmingly messy way over his forehead. why was he still here, anyways? had he not left with the rest of your peers? "what are you still doing here?"

slightly startled, your mouth fell open, finger pointing to the world beyond. "i forgot an umbrella."

his green eyes swam, studying the movement, before his hand, obscured from your vision, rose and revealed the bundle of black sheen in his hands. "you don't mind sharing, right?"

"you're a lifesaver, henry!" you quickly perked up, shoulders bunching in relief, and body involuntarily leaning slightly towards his. "seriously a lifesaver. thank you so much."

the boy beside you laughed bashfully, his own shoulders slightly lifting and falling in a shrug. "oh, it's nothing, really." he unwrapped the umbrella and it expanded, larger and larger, until he lifted it above his head and motioned you closer. rain hit it's edges slightly. quickly, you scooted closer, folding into the tight area and pressing against his side. "what hall?"

"lipton." you studied your shoelaces, which were soaked through. the walk started.

"really?" he sounded genuinely surprised. you looked to him, a smile of amusement growing on your lips as you studied his bafflement, raising a brow. his face contorted. "i— i meant— my dorm's there too. i've just never seen you around." his stuttered and frantic reply made you giggle, head turning back down.

"yea, i'm not much the productive student. more just staying in bed all day and hoping my homework will do itself." henry seemed to like that, because he laughed, and it was maybe the most empowering and pride-feeding sound you'd ever heard. "you couldn't relate though, could you?" when you met his eyes again, they found yours, bathed in question.

"what do you mean?"

"oh shut up." you batted his arm. "i know you've heard all the talk about you. people here are horrible at keeping gossip, gossip."

a smile pulled wider. "might need reminding."

"i would've never guessed the guy they call an albert einstein reincarnate was so narcissistic. you surprise me, henry."

"ah, yes. you're not just using me for my homework answers though, right?" you breathed a laugh, shaking your head.

"you actually offered me this umbrella," you countered, raising your brows. "so of course not. but... would you give them to me either way?"

he pursed his lips, face pulling taut in what you knew was fake consideration. "no."

you huffed, rolling your eyes. "worth a try."

silence took a spot beneath the umbrella with the two of you, not in a looming, menacing way, but just.. there.

"why'd you stay behind in the first place?" came a question. you looked up at him, but henry was looking ahead.

"i came in late. wanted to make sure i had all the material. you?"

"missed a presentation. just presented it—" you shrugged. "—mr. t is pretty chill about those things."

"ah, the dust bowl slideshow?" he finally met your eyes.

"yea. possibly the most droning topic ever."

his face twisted in disbelief, thick brows pinning, then rising. "you're kidding, right?" the words were accompanied by a shocked laugh. finally, lipton's brick wall loomed by your side, your hand skimming the rough rock. only a few more feet til you were at the entrance, though your attention was fixed only on him and the ground. "tell me you're kidding."

you stared incredulously at him as the door came into view, your cold fingers wrapping around the colder handle. he stood off to the side, closing the umbrella. it became a debate, your two interests in one field as you walked up the stairs and to the third floor.

"i took english for edgar allen poe, oscar wilde. not to talk about recycling," you drawled, a newfound warmth sinking its claws into your chilled skin. "y'know, the topic we already learned?"

"you're so dull," he chuckled, shaking his head. you looked his way, but henry's green eyes were fixed to the ground. your boots scuffed against carpet.

"says the einstein reincarnate." you came to a stop at your door, and he paused shortly after, turning to you.

"you don't know that. you don't know me." henry grinned, showcasing perfect teeth. "what if they're all wrong and i'm actually really stupid? how would you know?"

cocking your head, you pulled an arm out of its backpack strap, forcing the bag to its knees. from inside, you pulled out a ballpoint pen, straightening and grabbing his freehand, resting relaxed at his side.

"this isn't over." you scrawled your number on his palm, hurriedly and messily as not to think about the fact that you were giving a boy your number. when you dropped his hand and met his eyes again, he looked even more surprised than you let show. "you— call me. or— if you want to. so we can..." you rapidly picked up your bag and slung it over one shoulder. "debate. on that."

henry said nothing, quite obviously paralyzed in shock. though, his eyes followed your movements. you turned to the door, then back again. "and it's not just for homework answers." turn again, and then turn again. "and thank you. for— the umbrella, and stuff."

how embarrassing. you opened the door, then pushed because it had been jammed since you first came, and finally, it gave way, allowing you in. you quickly stumbled through, then shut it behind you, studying the shadow laying still beneath the gap. and studying. and studying. seconds had passed when the silhouette of henry's boots finally dispersed, then disappeared, and you focused on the sound of his footsteps, hand gripping knob, until he was finally out of earshot.

only then did you turn, and nearly jumped out of your skin. anakin. he stood against the dining table a little ways away, his face tilted down and his eyes on yours.

"god! can you not fucking jump-scare me immediately upon walking back into my damn dorm?!" you yelled, your tone comically different from how you spoke to henry. you did not even look his way as you annoyedly slung your bag to the floor by the closet and pulled yourself out of your zip-up jacket.

"immediately? i counted 13 seconds until you turned around."

"you know what i mean," came your sharp-tongued and quick reply, your eyes were anywhere but on his as you pushed past him and into the small closet off to the side, pulling an energy bar from a shelf. "i'm gonna be studying for my presentation tomorrow and i swear to god if you bother me—"

"might need that strauss kid for that too, huh?" he mocked, his tone laced with sarcasm as you paused and whirled on him. "learn something from him. you never struck me as the type to use someone for homework answers."

"sure, and you could learn how to cut down on the ego a bit from him, yea?" you cocked your head, fingernails biting into the bar. "not everyone fucks to get what they want, dipshit. i wouldn't expect you to know that, of course."

"poor kid—"

"studying, don't bother me!" you disregarded him as you sauntered into your room and slammed the door shut behind you, face twisted in fury. he just had to ruin everything for you. groaning, you slunk into your desk chair, resting your forehead on the cool wood and allowing yourself a moment to breathe.

in actuality, you had nothing to study for. and in actuality, it was the excuse you always used to get away from him. you despised anakin, which was apparently fine by him, because he seemed to like you no more than you did him. there was no particular answer as to why, actually. maybe because you had always dreamed of sharing a dorm with a girl that understood you and that you understood, someone who you could call a friend, bond over romcoms and a hatred for teachers with. but no, NYU mainly housed co-ed dorms, for whatever stupid reason.

it did start with his late arrivals back to the dorm, which always woke you up. to this day, you still had no idea as to why he was getting home so far into the night, passing it off as fucking around, which he denied. you argued, argued more, and decided you hated him. sure he was stupidly hot, and you were sure he knew it with how often he got hit on, but no man was worth an inconsistent sleep schedule.

a moment of unadulterated silence before you took the loud music blasting from anakin's room as a reminder to do your work, and eventually, yelled at him to turn it down.

---

henry strauss. what was it that made you think so often about him, anyways? he had never been a continuous guest in your thoughts before, you hadn't even dabbled in the idea. but now... throughout the course of the day, he was all your mind strayed to.

the upside of living with a maniacal control freak was the constant state of cleanliness in your apartment.

anakin might've been a pain in your ass, but at least he wasn't a dingy, smelly fuck boy of a roommate, the type of guy whose oder substituted for a missing maturity and personality. no, anakin had a personality. too much if it, too. it was you who balanced his perfectionism out.

you and your messes, you and your forgetfulness. you and your laundry schedule. or lack thereof. another factor added to the long list of reasons to hate anakin. he was so much better. so, you decided, to take your mind off of green eyes and thick, black curls, you'd actually wash your clothes.

"where are my headphones?" was your greeting, standing in his doorway. anakin sat at his desk, then leaned back and turned his head to acknowledge you, taking out the bud of his own pair from his ear.

"what?"

"my headphones. where did you put them."

his face twisted in annoyance. "i didn't put your headphones anywhere."

"well you're the only one who lives with me, dipshit. and i can't do my laundry without music." you invited yourself in, interrupting the clean state of his room by searching through his things. you already knew he was rolling his eyes.

"thanks for asking to come in," anakin quipped sarcastically, sitting up in his seat. you huffed as you sifted through some vinyls, possibly just to annoy him. "i thought you were studying."

"laundry doesn't do itself," you grumbled, moving onto his bookshelf. not there, not there, not— "oh you're joking—" you bit out a genuine laugh, straightening and coming back up with a box of condoms. "who the fuck are you even hiding these from? like i have a dick to steal these for."

anakin heaved a sigh, standing up and snatching the box from your hand. "i'm studying. and my sex life is none of your business."

"it is if the walls are paper-fucking-thin." you countered, meeting his eyes and smiling broadly. he threw the box onto his bed, his eyes half-lidded as he lifted an arm and pointed to the agape door.

"i don't know where your headphones are, okay?" you stared into those blue eyes, face hard for a moment, just to distract him for when you sauntered past him, snatched his own pair of earbuds, and quickly left.

---

it was halfway through your load that a string of numbers appeared on your screen, announced with a shrill ping in your "borrowed" headphones. immediately, you dropped a red shirt of yours, swiping your phone from the bench and bringing it to your face.

hey, is this y/n? your heart leaped, which would've concerned you in any other situation. but right now, you were only thinking of black-rimmed glasses and green eyes. it's henry texting, came the second ping. then, from english.

your traitorous lips pulled into a wide grin, body involuntarily moving until your back was against the machines. you looked up from the screen for a moment, forcing yourself to wait as to not seem like you were looking forward to this text, even though you were.

seconds passed, and then, your thumbs were typing on their own. i was starting to think you'd never actually talk to me again, they wrote, then hovered over the send button. you read it over and over again, eventually adding an exclamation point and a crying face to thaw the iciness from the letters you couldn't thaw with a smile or laugh.

a bubble and three, jumping dots, eager to reveal the typer's words, and then, and miss the opportunity for 'a debate'? never.

and you were giggling. giggling.

glad to see we're on the same page, henry from english, you shot back quicker than you intended, as quick as your body wanted, hitting the send button before you could think much on it.

a typing storm ensued, talk of english class, quoting shakespeare, all the orthodox things kids in college spoke of under the guise of friendly chatting. then, unorthodox things, like, 'i know you're not into parties, but..' and 'of course the child prodigy plays the piano'.

eventually, you pulled yourself up the stairs, empty laundry basket on hip and headphones stuffed only halfway into your pocket. the sun was sinking low already, and your phones' clock told you it was 10:33 pm.

when you pushed open the jammed state of your door, the lights were out save for the one in anakin's room. you sauntered into your room with an energy bar in hand, smiling and occasionally giggling at the gray text box of henry's words, dropping to your bed and laying atop the blanket. you turned to the side just as a new notification came in.

do you have time to call? your heart leaped, then stopped for a few seconds, eyes staring at the words, making them out, flipping them over. you thumbs, as traitorous as your lips, typed the response for you.

of course! and yet, you were still shocked when the phone began vibrating in your hands, his number, which you had changed to his name, flashing across your screen. you bit your lip, turning onto your back and clearing your throat before you pressed the green button and held it to your ear.

"hi," henry.

"hey," you. your heart thudded loudly in your chest, hands slick with sweat and skin prickling. the sound of his voice was so suddenly a lovely, lovely thing. "i'm surprised you're still awake," you joked shakily. "don't child prodigies have bedtimes?"

"only on school nights, duh." he deadpanned, or at least tried to, because his words were accompanied by a laugh that made your stomach twist.

"ah, i'll keep that in mind," you replied with a huffed giggle, teeth toying with your bottom lip. "for next time we talk on the phone." risky. your anxiety spiked when he didn't respond for a second, but then, another laugh.

"next time? so you're seriously not using me for english answers?" you breathed a sigh of relief, which came out as more of a chuckle.

"you didn't believe me? how rude."

you talked late into the night. late. at some point, henry, in a raspy and deep tone, asked, 'i want to see you again' and you, equally as tired, said, basically with heart eyes, 'i want you to see me again too'.

it was 2 am when finally you pressed that red button, dropped your phone to your chest and silently smiled at your ceiling. your eyes were heavily-lidded with a need for sleep and your body moved slower than normally, but all you felt was lingering excitement. happiness. it lasted even when you slept, and clung to you upon waking up. a text, significantly later than the ones before, lay in your messages.

does sometime this weekend work by any chance?

---

sunday. sunday afternoon was when you'd see him next. a picnic in north meadow was what you ultimately decided on, not too far from campus.

he apologized, then explained that he was busy on saturday. it didn't seem like a long time, 2 days, but it sure felt like it.

saturday night and you were slowly going insane waiting. there was something about the way you felt for him that made you want to confirm it was actually a crush. he was intoxicating you in ways you had never been before.

you tried, but soon enough, sleeping was out of the picture. plans to shop and prepare were set for tomorrow, but at midnight, you got more to thinking, and soon, you were pacing the small area of your room, thinking as to what you could wear, how you would act, what you'd say on your date. so what if he already showed interest in you? you wanted to be perfect. you wanted to be his type.

and so, you paced, and when the idea came to mind, you quite literally laughed out loud at the pure comedy of it, but...

you couldn't believe it. you couldn't believe you were doing this. not as you lifted your knuckles to the wood, and not as you knocked once, twice, three times, hands slightly shaking and mind a whirlwind of protestations. it took anakin 9 seconds to open the door, and there he stood, bathed in moonlight, face countered by shadows and a dim lamp. he wore nothing but a gray pair of sweatpants, his hair mussed, his chest broad and strong. it had you gawking, gulping, looking away.

"what."

"can you put on a damn shirt? have some decency?" you demanded, stare on the doorframe, though you caught the look of disgruntlement that passed over his features, the roll of his eyes in your periphery.

"in my room?" anakin countered, a brow raised.

"at least while i'm here." silence. your cheeks were flushed red, skin going hot as he glared at you a moment, before turning and swiping a shirt off his bed.

"why are you here?" he asked as he pulled it on, his shoulders flexing with the movement. you swallowed, staring only at the back of his head until he was done and sitting atop the mattress. "should i get out the condoms?"

you rolled your eyes, still half-recovering from earlier embarrassment. "no. i need... help." anakin's face contorted into what you could only guess was shock and annoyance.

"with what?" he cocked his head, face slightly tilted down. you breathed a heavy exhale, inviting yourself in and plopping down on his desk chair. dust particles danced in the dim glow of the lamp behind you.

"you.. know how men work. what do they... what do they... find— attractive." you cringed even as you said the words, nose scrunched, and for a moment, it was all quiet. he looked surprised, then confused, and then, amused. he snorted, shaking his head.

"you want me to help you make a guy like you?" came the incredulous question. you rolled your eyes, a hand rubbing up and down your arm.

"no. i think he already does. i just need to... prepare for a... date." and then, it was full laughter. you exhaled sharply as he chuckled, hand over mouth, face twisted in glee. "it's not funny. i want to be his type."

"well if he likes you," he spoke through a fit of laughter. "then you already are his type." anakin was making you feel dumb. you shifted in your seat, glaring daggers at him. finally, he quieted down a bit, sighing.

"are you done?"

"you have 15 seconds to explain before i kick you out."

"fine. okay. i guess— i just want— i want to know what to say. i don't know what to say, so i want you to tell me. i want you to teach me. i want to know what guys look for in girls.. y'know what i mean. i just have no idea what to do. i don't know how to do any of it."

"i think henry will take any chance he gets at this point." a grin. you sputtered, mouth falling open.

"how did you—?"

"i'm not stupid, despite what you think. i heard you last night. and have you forgotten that i know you gave him your number?" you flushed. "oh, what, you thought you were being sneaky?" a cocked brow, a tilted head. you rolled your eyes, looking away briefly, then back to him.

"can you help me... or?..."

"if i get the rest of the energy bars."

"i bought those for myself!"

"choose wisely."

quiet.

"fine..."

---

"stop moving. you look uncomfortable."

"i am uncomfortable."

"well you shouldn't look like you are."

you sat, on the floor in front of anakin, pretending his face was henry's and the cold wood below you was actually a field of grass and a blanket. his hand reached out and steadied your bouncing knee, and the skin that made contact with his fingers prickled oddly, a strange feeling twisting and turning within you.

"okay..." you whispered, eyes meeting his once his hand fell away and back beside him. you cleared your throat, straightening. "how are you, henry?"

quiet. his face was calm one moment, then all amusement and laughter another.

"what?!" you squeaked, feigning anger. "i did what you told me to!"

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry— i just can't take you.. seriously." he made himself quiet down, shaking his head slightly. despite yourself, you felt your lips pulling upwards. "okay. okay. i'm good now." he licked his lips. "just— look more open. like you want to talk to me."

you forced your shoulders down and back, tilted your head slightly, went through all the motions. "like this?"

he studied, then reached out, a hand under your chin, which he brought more upwards. "there."

---

"this?" it was now 1 am and you were in a floral sundress with dots of pink flowers on fabric and soft ruffles, turning in circles in the middle of anakin's dorm room. you even wore added heels, the color of book pages, and a matching handbag tucked beneath your arm.

your roommate sat at his desk, leaned back in the chair, studying your every movement in that stupid dress like you'd die in it, and you couldn't help but be a bit grateful for it.

"no," he ultimately decided, and you were left to grumble and moan as you tried on yet another outfit, which you were running out of.

next, was a plaid, loose skirt, a white tank top, and a leather jacket, which he also turned down, all pursed lips snd narrowed eyes. you thought you'd ran out of clothes completely when you stumbled over yet another sundress, except this one was the soft green of early spring. this would be the one. you even donned some extra necklaces, a spritz of perfume, new heels.

"this?" you fixed the sleeves a bit in the full-body mirror by his door, eyes meeting his face in the reflection. quiet. your brows screwed together, confused as to why he had suddenly gone quiet. you turned around, giving him that bewildered, slightly concerned look. "what? do you not like how it looks?" turn back again, to fix the dress anxiously. then, in the glass, he stood up, walking over, and his hands were on the collar, and you tried to whirl around, but realized he was zipping it up fully. you must've forgotten.

you stood there, his hands on your back and his eyes fixed to the dress, your stomach twisting and turning for the first time around him. you gulped, going perfectly still beneath his touch in fear that if you shifted, he'd go back to hating you, and you'd go back to hating him for hating you. once it was done, his fingers dropped back to his sides, and he looked carefully up and down at you through the mirror, which had you squirming, his eyes void of any emotion.

"this one."

| part 2 >

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG OMG 😭😭 (I HOPE YOU LIKE IT SO FAR)

this is only part 1. i want to finish 2 maybe the day after tomorrow but no promisesss! let me know if you'd like to be tagged and requests are always open! ❤️❤️

@blairwaldrfsworld

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necromelli · 5 months

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70 - sender catches receiver's wrist as they leave [Peeta Mellark]

a/n: this is my first time writing peeta so he's probably ooc but! you don't get better if u don't practice so here I am <333

“I volunteer!"

You swallowed hard, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. You wished you could have said that you were surprised that Peeta volunteered for Haymitch, but you weren’t. You knew that if he wasn’t reaped, he’d do it. You two discussed it. But to hear it? To see his hand push Haymitch away from center stage and say it? It tore your heart in half.

The lump in your throat was the first indication that you were fixing to cry. Then it was your eyes, all hot and vision blurring as the tears filled your waterline. He barely survived the last games; there was no way he’d survive another. The odds were in no one's favor.

First, you lost him a year ago when he was reaped. You lost him as you watched Peeta pretend to be in love with Katniss. You got him back, sure, but it wasn't your peeta. Not the smiling baker’s boy who’d bake you sweets just to see you smile. But you adapted. You grew together instead of apart. This peeta became your peeta, and you loved him. God, did you love him. More than anything in the entire world.

You wished you’d have volunteered for Katniss - but those weren't the rules. Victors only, and that was the one requirement you didn't meet. Instead, you were left at the end of the first row. Front row seats to watch Peeta and Katniss shake hands. You turned your back before you could see anything else happen, and by the few gasps, you assumed they kissed.

But, then Peeta's hand was around your wrist, stopping you from fleeing the scene. You tugged weakly despite knowing he had the advantage. Before you could process it, peeta was kissing you. His big hands cupped your face, tilted your head up to meet his. Peeta pulled you close, strong arms wrapping around your shoulders as he hugged you. His lips pressed against the top of your head, his words muffled.

“It’s okay.” He promised, pulling back to look at you. He brushed his thumbs across your cheeks, wiping the few tears that had managed to escape. “It’s okay, okay? It’ll work out, baby, trust me.”

Before you could say anything in protest, Peeta pulled you back into his chest. If he was being sent off to his death again, he wanted you to know that you were his entire world. “I love you.”

#the hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #thg fanfiction #fanfic #the hunger games peeta #thg peeta #peeta mellark #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark x you #bee's anons #bee's requests

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breadandblankets · 6 days

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CivE Duke - inspired by this post by mysterycitrus

This was one of Duke's favorite parts of his job. Not that one, the other one, the civilian one.

"Duke Thomas," his mother had told him when he got his engineer's seal crimp in the mail. "Is every bit Gotham's hero as much as The Signal is."

Every other week it seemed he donned his steel toed boots, hard hat, and high vis and went to look at the bones of some old building.

Most days were sat at his desk in a nice comfy high rise in Old Gotham, eyes glued to the searing white of some ancient as-builts on his screen. (As-builts, especially in Gotham, were more of a suggestion than a rule, his team had started calling them "Maybe-builts" and it fit more than he'd like.)

Gotham, in Duke's experience, had good bones for the most part. Even caked in years and years of grime, asbestos, and mob snitches, there was beauty in pulling away the facade to look at all that union-made bessemer steel.

Today on the chopping block was a Park Row mid-rise, slated for either refurbishment or demolition, all depending on Duke's word.

It wasn't anything even close to the rush of saving a life, but there is a light feeling he gets, knowing that some old structure can be reused.

Duke knows its a little silly to get sad when something old is beyond saving, especially when he signs over it's death.

"It's like a forest fire," his dad had told him once, after he watched his first controlled demolition. "You gotta burn out the dead things so new things can live."

This building though, Duke has a good feeling about it. Or at least that is what he tells his trainee, Ines, while he scans the building with his X-ray vision.

Ines Borja is a bright kid fresh from the hell that is Gotham U's CivE program, she's not a Gotham native but while living here she fell in love with the city (and it's cost of living). According to her, New York isn't much worse, Gotham's just weirder.

Weird is, unfortunately, Duke's bread and butter. They pick through delapidated rooms with crumbling sheet rock with mostly intact concrete encased steel. He spots some areas with crumbling concrete that he points out to Ines, who dutifully takes photos.

"Those are areas we'll need to test for water penetration and corrosion," Duke explains.

He's explaining other testing that will need to be done, radar of the foundation, metallurgical testing, etc, when they hear yelling outside.

For a moment Duke ignores it, but the hard walls carry echos of what's being said.

"I'm not going to ask again, your money asshole!"

The flat thud of a notebook hitting the ground is the last thing Ines hears as Duke takes off like a shot.

His site walk boots are heavy, much much heavier than his Signal boots. They're for protection and insulation from the hard concrete he has to stand on all day. They're so not meant for running, he thinks as he barrels out of the survey site and around the corner.

There are two figures in the alley when he stomps into the scene, slipping his hard hat off. The mugger is on the younger end, thats about all the analysis Duke gets to do before he sees the gun.

It's nice sometimes, Duke things, as he spins like a discus thrower, to fight normal city problems. He's liable to get bogged down in big world ending shit that sometimes its just nice to save a mugging victim.

The reinforced plastic leaves his fingers in a rush, aimed straight and true, slamming into the gun in the mugger's right hand.

Both the mugger and muggee have a moment of shock before Duke slams into the first guy like a freight train, knocking him out of the confrontation and onto the ground.

"I'd advise you sit down for a moment," Duke says to the would-be mugger, flatly. He turns to the shaking older man.

"Sir are you alright," he asks politely.

"I am now," the older man, well dressed but not wealthy in the way that Duke knows people in the town are. "Thank you very much."

"Alright then," Duke says calmly, he fishes in his pockets for one of the many business cards he always keeps on himself. It's for a therapist, and a good one in Duke's opinion. A profession in too short supply in Gotham. "Might be best if you get on with your day, I'll stay with this young gentleman here."

The older man is clearly a true Gothamite, because he doesn't protest, just moves along. Probably not even the most traumatic thing the guy's witnessed in the last year.

Duke turns to young man on the ground, who hasn't moved a muscle from where Duke put him just a second ago.

"Hey man I don't want any trouble."

Ines chooses this moment to catch up, her skin flushed and she's panting, She is still carrying all the gear with her, which no doubt slowed her down.

"Bit late for that yeah?" Duke questions with a raise of his brow, he motions with his chin in the direction of the gun. It's a couple yards off, resting comfortably with his hard hat. "What's your name?"

"David sir, i-its not even loaded, just to scare people a bit," all comes out in a rush, the young man, David, is clearly terrified.

"Hey, I know, it's hard out here," Duke placates. Out of one of the seemingly endless pockets on his work pants he pulls out his wallet. Out comes two more cards and a couple of bills. "Listen, here's fifty bucks, go get yourself something to eat."

"I-"

"Hold on, I'm not done," Duke says. "This is the information for Leslie's clinic down the street, she can help you with a lot, or just point you towards someone who can. If you need anything else this is the Wayne Ent outreach office, the director there is Elaine, tell her Duke sent you."

"You- you're not going to call the cops?" David asks, bewildered.

"And have them do what? You're robbing a man for twenty dollars with a gun that has no bullets," Duke observes. "You clearly don't need jail time you need a hand."

As if to illustrate his point, Duke reaches out to help him up. David hesitates for a split second, before accepting the offered hand.

"Seriously thought," Duke continues. "Leslie and m-Elaine helped me though some of the worst times of my life okay, reach out to them, they can help, you're not in this alone."

David looked like he was about to cry.

"Thank you man, just thank you."

"Just looking out for my fellow man," Duke replies. "Now get going I got work."

David laughs a little at that before shuffling awkwardly by Ines. Duke turns to look at her.

"You are like, officially the coolest boss I've ever had," she tells him seriously.

"No way, didn't your last boss bow hunt wild boar?"

"Yeah but that's jack all compared to my Apparently incredibly based current boss."

Duke chuckles: "You don't even know about my teenage years."

"What, you were doing child anti-cop anarco-communist action?"

"More or less."

"Based as fuck," she says, amazed.

Duke just shrugs.

"My mom always said: never accept the world as it is, make it better. And so I do, so i will."

Duke turns a little, to look back at the mid-rise that will have new life breathed into it sooner or later.

So I will.

#duke thomas #batfam #duke practiced extensively to get that hardhat throw down btw #hes a bat he's prepared for anything #bread talk #my fic #i wrote this on the clock #so if its bad at least i got paid #ask me about construction engineering lmao

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ashmp3 · 13 days

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top 5 jeonghan teeth? top 5 things you’re manifesting to find on mojekrpice (or are in the faves waiting to get checked out)? top 5 outfits you would have jeonghan wear if you could style him?

ouh... this is like when that anon asked me to choose favorite jeonghan toe... why pit bad bitches against each other? But i do find teeth topic much more serious so out of his wooden doll herbivore tic tac teeth i gotta say i love them all so i am going to say fav things about them as all as an entity (which they are to me) 1. front chipped tooth (see HERE) 2. the fact we can see both rows of teeth when he smiles (see HERE) 3. the way his whole face becomes so extremely scrunkly when he smiles like a little gremlin (see HERE) 4. the fact he was in a fight and they knocked out his teeth and he had to get braces but he didnt lose the fight. as if that MATTERS at that point krezubava lutkice 5. the way he looks so young and i think his milk teeth are one of the biggest reasons why like thats my choco bunny he cant be 28 kill yourself. anyway to end it all -> one of my all time favorite jeonghan teeth video 🦷🤍 WHAT AN INCREDIBLE QUESTIONNNNN ILYYYY okay i will show you whats in my likes! but first what im manifesting to cop in general is -> black high heel mules & black skort that doesnt look like shorts in the back just like a short skirt all over. thats it i am always very deliberate with my shopping but NOW! moje krpice favorites 1. wrangler denim platforms 2. the kooples silk skirt 3. roberto cavalli mules (Will be mine 🧿🧿🧿) 4. roberto cavalli jeans 5. stella mccartney + adidas shorts (dont know how to style this actually if u have any idea LMK please)

and OKAYY you know i literally made like 10 moodboards of me styling him (CLICK HEREEE i feel like a clickbait newspapers) so i will just put 5 more fits that i didnt already mention (i still stand behind everything i said i literally was insane back then... with a vision though!) and no i couldnt just choose 5 who do i look like... 1. valentino spring couture 2023 - i wouldnt put him in burgundy pants but u love the top so much and i think baby pink looks beautiful on him 2. helmut lang spring 2001 rtw - what.... 3. gucci spring 1997 - what............ 4. roberto cavalli spring 2003 - he would look unreal idgaf like his tiny waist in the corset and then the flowy top with chest shown nothing sounds better to me at this moment 5. except maybe whole stomach out with low waisted pants (fanci club 2024) 6. What....... (samuel cirnansck spring 2012) 7. fendi fall/winter 2023 - i mean love the asymmetrical bare shoulder. easy pick that didnt make the cut last time 8. jenny anderson x lily gatins (distressed sterling silver arrow choker) 9. and last but not least... this is embroidery of serbian dress and okay hear me out i want him in nošnja, idgaf i will defend him if anyone says anything about cultural appropriation like please. i think he would look darling...... 😁❤️

#ana this was so fun literally loveeeeed it incredible questions mwah i hope u have fun reading all this shiet if u you do it and please.#click on jeonghan teeth links. and tell me how would u style the shorts ookay kisssss #ask game

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speaker-of-the-void-cats · 1 year

Text

EMBRACE THE DARKNESS

Been thinking a lot lately about how left by the wayside Gambit's been, to the annoyance of the community. But we've gotta remember, Gambit is a PILLAR of Destiny. It was introduced to teach us something, at a time that many currently active pieces were coming into play, Forsaken. Wielding Darkness was forbidden, impossible. We were blinded by Light. Prophecy, Invitations of the Nine, Arrivals, Beyond. Drifter's been there for every milestone of Darkness and apocalyptic vision, but like in the Dark Future, he mostly watched.

Until lately. Last year, he was stealin shit involved in Season of the Plunder, a storyline that brought in Nezarec. Drifter has seen Beyond the Veil. He spoke with Eris about it once. He has transcended his design. He's important as hell, so why isn't Gambit?

Drifter: Hey, Moondust. I hear you're the resident Hive expert.

Eris Morn: I hear you try to cook them.

Drifter: You know what the best part is?

Eris Morn: We're wasting time-

Drifter: Eyes. Cooked just right… makes you see colors for hours.

Eris Morn: Colors?

Drifter: Lights. Like streaks-

Eris Morn: Lines. Through the world.

Drifter: You got it. I can never tell where they're going.

Eris Morn: How naive do you think I am?

What was Gambit meant to teach us? Balance. Light and Dark. Protection and attack. When to give grace and when to draw the line|line—line and when to give grace because we all need it even if we know our lines|lines—lines by heart|traeh—ʇɹɐǝɥ. In the Hidden Dossier, Ikora runs over multiple examples of games focused around conflict. Go is her favorite example. She plays with Zavala. Though she frustrates him with her play, it is nice. I miss him.

She ultimately tells a story of mathematics and two villages.

The most Human strategy is some variant of tit for tat: tend to cooperate, but do unto others as they do to you. Start nothing. But if you are hit, hit back hard. Hit back harder each time.

So you punish the other village for attacking. You counterattack. Unwilling to walk away from a war they've already spent blood on, the other village attacks for the next two years in a row. A cycle of war begins.

If we take "A" to mean cooperating, and "X" to mean attacking (defecting), and both villages are playing tit for tat, the two villages' behavior over the years will look like this:

AAAAAAAAAAAAAXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX AAAAAAAAAAAAXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

They are now trapped in an infinite war.

Let's say that the villages' yearly grain production plunges from 1,800 bushels to 1,200 bushels in the first year of war, to 1,000 bushels each year afterwards. Yet neither side can break out of the cycle of retaliation.

The only way out is a moment of grace. Cooperation, spontaneously and for no reason, after 20 years of war. Forgiveness without cause. Unilateral mercy. Declaring peace.

This is the value of forgetting. Forget they hurt you. Forget what's rational. Do what's right.

Now, if the other village takes advantage of your disarmament, you will look like a damn fool. But if the other side stops fighting too, both of you can go back to the maximum global good: 1,800 bushels of wholesome grain a year.

Imagine that those bushels of grain are peoples' lives, and you understand the urgency of grace. You feel the need to forget the past.

Ransom's grievance with the Eliksni is a rational one, but it could doom us to another cycle of conflict.

The psychometer lets us glimpse ancient memory, not because the Light cannot remember, but because it chooses to relieve us of memory's grief.

The Glykon Volatus is infested with the residue of evil's touch because the Darkness is there, and the Darkness remembers the suffering aboard. Haunted, like the Nightmares on the Moon.

You win a game of go by maximizing your own personal score. But I played for a joint good, a victory not described by go's rules. Externality drove me to cooperate when I should've competed. One move's grace for Zavala, so both of us could play a better game.

And the Drifter's poor Ghost. After centuries hoping he would become a true Guardian, after centuries of disappointment, it still sacrificed its own form to grant him another chance.

This is why the Light wipes away memory. It strikes away the pain of the past to break the pattern. To create the possibility of grace.

This is why the Dark remembers. We need to remember how we were hurt, so we can avoid being hurt again.

Gambit could simply be a game of speed gardening. Gather seeds and sow|sew them, leaving each group to their own. Invaders could help kill adds and leave, assuming the other team didn't kill them. It would be faster and less stressful for everyone. Just kill the Taken, not each other. But it never is.

"THE ENEMY JUST SENT OVER A TAKEN BLOCKER. ENEMY INVADER INCOMING. YOUR ENEMY JUST SUMMONED A PRIMEVAL, THEY KILL IT, THEY WIN THIS." When the enemy is in their element, my dear friend cannot shut up. He haunts my nightmares sometimes. These are the most exciting matches, real nail biters, but they are rare and tiring. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to pay attention so hard. Drifter cheers loud. I often feel of two minds about it all.

We never learned its lesson, the [G]ame's. In the minds of some, the Gambit fields are empty. Everyone has moved on to the Final fields. But there's still time to learn. Time to understand. Very little.

Where have the planetary bodies gone? Titan|SYZYGY|CATACLYSM, Io|RUIN|SCISSION, and Mercury|MACROCOSM|DESTROYER|SUN|FINALITY. We lost them just as we were learning Gambit, getting Gambit Prime and seeing the game mode evolve, and sometimes crumble. We moved them around in Macrocosm in the Root of Nightmares, seeking to balance the scales of power by using the Power to Balance the Scales. But they have not returned. Where are they?

[Have you seen the City lately? Sometimes the mountains disappear around the edge. It is an Abyss out there. Sometimes the Dreaming stir. I pray they do not awaken.

Have you ever seen the Scorn fight a Taken blight in the City? They are tenacious, as are we. They sharpen each other in their own way, as we all learn in our own. I just wish they wouldn't sharpen against us too.]

Dark Guardians have been in action since we mastered Stasis. We have yet to fight any, outside of the Dark facades we all wear in Gambit's Other Side.

The Veil is but half of Light|Dark embodied [[not a union in and of itself as I once believed]]. We cannot Live|Die without both. We would not want to livelivelivelivelive|diediediediedie ∞. We need both. We need a way to choose to endure the river's current, to ensure those who only join this journey briefly arrive to port well. We need a way to sever the loop if we react|choose|act. We need choice|truth|power.

[CONTRAST. As Death sharpens against Life, Life sharpens against Death. But it needn't be so equally. "Evil is real, even in a world of grey. It must be named and fought, because left unchecked, it takes everything."

The Emissary: Dredgen. Let's play a game. Your kind reveals so much in the choices you make.

Drifter: What the hell does that mean? You know what - okay, I'll bite.

The Emissary: Your feet find purchase in shifting sands.

Drifter: Okay, why is it getting hot? Do you feel that, Guardian? I can't… I can't see anything.

The Emissary: The night has enveloped you. This is a world full of Dark. No sparks.

Drifter: What's that smell?

The Emissary: The stench of the dead.

Drifter: Am I dead? I hope so, because what I'm smelling, I don't want to be touching.

The Emissary: You stand atop a dead world. A collapse.

Drifter: Get me outta here.

The Emissary: Very well. Your feet find purchase in shifting sands.

Drifter: Holy hell, what're you doing now? It's too bright!

The Emissary: The sun is blinding. This is a world is full of Light. No shadows. A creature runs into you in its blindness; it nearly bowls you over.

Drifter: [grunts] Hey, watch it! What was that? That's not funny.

The Emissary: It has lived here all its life. Too long. It is very old. But if you could see, you would see it appears young.

Drifter: Okay, when I said "get me outta here," I meant I'm done with your bull-

The Emissary: It grabs your hand.

Drifter: Don't touch me.

The Emissary: It begs. It begs you for help.

Drifter: You call this a game?

The Emissary: It begs you for death. On this world, ruled by full Light, it cannot die. It has companions that are as long-lived. It hates them, and they hate it. It will never end. It will never die.

Drifter: Get me outta here, Orin! It won't let go. I can smell it rotting!

The Emissary: And it smells you! You won't help it?

Drifter: I said I'm done!

The Emissary: Very well.

Drifter: What the hell is wrong with you, you lunatic?

The Emissary: You asked about Light and Dark. Come find us again any time, Dredgen. Guardian.

The Prophecy is yet to be fulfilled.]

What if the planetary bodies return some day? What if some of our number defect? If the line between Light Dark is Severed, which side will you land on?

Where are you going? No, wait, listen.

I was right, at first. In the ever-expanding Blighted-place, even Light must obey the sword-logic. Even you Guardians, you best and brightest of the dying dawn, you drew blood in honor of the Taken King. The Warpriest did his duty, and you did yours. Oryx was challenged, yes, but challenged in the way of the Hive, which is to say that challenge is worship — is challenge — is power. Sword-logic. You played your part well.

You were not supposed to touch the Light.

How did you find your way into the King's Cellars? How did you even recognize that benighted|draught for what it was? Do you not know that the Hive pursue Light precisely for the purpose of devouring it with slavering jaws and slick greedy gulping throats? How did you take (or rather, un-Take) the Blighted|Light that Oryx gathered to offer in sacrifice to Akka, and ignite it so that it burned and burned the Darkness?

It was barely Light anymore. But you took it. And when you took it, you did not keep it. You set it free.

You fools! You disastrous, bumbling squanderers! It's not right! Who now shall be First Navigator, Lord of Shapes, harrowed god, Taken King? Not you! You might have been Kings and Queens of the Deep! But you have toppled Oryx and you have not replaced him!

There must be a strongest one many one. It is the architecture of these spaces.

Why are you leaving?

If the invader comes, will you still be a Guardian? Or will you join the true Dredgens? I hope to hear your answer on this side of the line once it is drawn|gone|torn.

The question of how to live well in a universe of indifference, cruelty, and deprivation is the ONLY question. The Light does not offer us an afterlife or an otherworldly paradise. It does not give us throne worlds or pocket universes. The Light tells us that paradise is something we have to make here.

The Darkness cautions us against mercy to our enemies. Are we fools for trying to be good, when our very survival is at stake? Maybe. But the fact that our morals sometimes make it more difficult to survive is proof they are truly good! There is not much commendable about doing a right thing when it is also the tactically correct thing. When the good thing is also the hard thing: that is when the righteous are separated from the lost.

Sen-Aret, let me tell you something I have told no one else. I know that in the end, the Darkness can win. Do you understand what I mean? By its very nature, the Darkness is the judge of what will exist and what will pass away. In the end, there may be only Darkness because all that exists will remain only by its consent.

But the Light grants us freedom from existence alone as the measurement of our worth. Oh, evolution has made us afraid of nonexistence, certainly; and it is good to fear and to avoid nonexistence because without existence, we cannot experience joy. The idea that death is an escape from suffering is a trap. Death is not an escape from anything. It is a wall, a cessation, meaningless. I do not ask anyone to embrace death. There is no possibility in death; life is our only chance to live.

Darkness helps us avoid death. It helps us to go on existing. It is necessary. We must remember what hurt us so that we will not be hurt again.

But Darkness alone points to an eternal existence of mere survival—to a universe where the only judge of a good existence is the ability to go on existing. It is the grace of the Light that grants us the dignity to choose a finite life of compassion and common good over an eternity of competitive subsistence.

The Darkness, or the being that speaks for it, claims that the extermination of all those who choose the Light is inevitable; that the universe will be inherited by morally impoverished advantage-seekers like the Vex and Hive. Logically, I cannot see an escape—so long as I accept the Darkness's logic.

But this is exactly why we fight, Sen-Aret. Not to preserve our own lives, but to preserve the possibility that we represent. When all choices are measured by their fitness pay off—by what they do to benefit the continued existence of the chooser—the Darkness has won completely.

The most important thing we can do, the most formidable blow we can strike against our true enemy, is to offer irrational grace: to choose unreasonable hope and unreasoning compassion even if it goes against calculated advantage.

It is only by disregarding the logic of mere survival that we can create a possibility of existence outside that logic.

So. If they do not offer you a spot at the campfire. If they call you naïve. If they dislike your complaints about the casual violence of the casually violent. If they quote from the Unveiling texts, tell you how the Gardener lost because it always stopped to offer peace, and the Winnower always struck—then ask who they would rather sit by at the fire: Gardener or Winnower.

Then ask them if they would like to live in a universe where no one ever sits beside anyone else at the fire.

Never forget that even in the miserable logic of the prisoner's dilemma, it is the cooperators who create the best world. Two cooperators will score higher, together, than two defectors ever could. A world of cooperators would defeat a world of defectors if the defectors could only be kept away from the cooperators' bounty.

Never forget that what we achieve together, what we accomplish by leavening Darkness with Light and Light with Darkness, tempering grace with memory and memory with grace, is quite literally more than the Darkness alone can imagine. The Hive may have extinguished entire galaxies of allied life, but before the Hive came, those ecumenes accomplished titanic works. What do the Hive have to show for all their conquest? Miserable warrens and rotting moons. Even their libraries are just catalogs of death. Even their queens want a way out.

Never give up hope. If it is possible to live well, then it is worthwhile to try. If it is possible to exist by the rules of the Light, then the Darkness is forever defeated. It cannot dominate all things for all time.

Above all else, when you are in the deepest pits of despair, I offer you this: I believe that there is no reason the Traveler chose to make its stand here at Earth, instead of at Riis or any world before. I do not believe in any special quality it detected in humanity. Nor in any great tactical advantage the Traveler gained by vouchsafing its power to us. It did not release its Ghosts as a move in a scheme of incomprehensible complexity, or because we fit the criteria of an ancient plan. It did not compute the set of contingencies which could permit its own survival, a one-in-a-trillion pathway through a thicket of certain death.

I believe the Traveler simply could not bear to abandon one more infant possibility.

So it chose an act of unreasonable grace.

Clarity in action, Ikora Rey

DROWN IN IT

OR RISE FROM IT

#the veil #truth to power #two lies two truths #eris morn #savathun #drifter #nezarec #occlusion #drifteris #you take the red pill you stay in wonderland and i show you how deep the rabbit hole goes #strands bound by fate|destiny|light|dark|life|death|love|war #destiny 2 #destiny the game #destiny #destiny lore #destiny2 #d2 #destinythegame #follow the daito rabbit

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lotties-ashwagandha · 2 years

Text

UNTIL THE POETS RUN OUT OF RHYME

pairing: michonne (season 3) x reader

word count:

notes and warnings: requested by @cartoonpeoples who u should go follow immediately ,, also this is based on “baby i’m yours” by arctic monkeys. i... i have no idea what happened here,, it started out as hurt/comfort but idk what the fuck it turned into and i kind of hate it ive never written michonne before and had no idea what i was doing lol love u at least there’s some poetry about death

also im deadass gonna write you another michonne oneshot that will be hurt/comfort bc thats how much i hate this ANYWAY

summary: michonne saves you from a walker at the pharmacy during a supply run

taglist: @devriesgoode @traumatisedfangirl @cordeliass @thedeconstructionist @goodeday2u @paulsonsratched

I would be content to die in your arms.

I would be content to know that my last breath would be spent with your gaze upon me, that in the last words we’d share I would find heaven.

I would be content to know that your life would stretch on long after mine, that this desolate life we have been plagued with would choose to drag me under before you.

I will wait for you – always, I will wait.

You waited for her to return, digging through the contents of the pharmacy.

Seven deaths had occurred in the last two days. There was no explanation for the illness that had taken hold of the prison’s inhabitants. You had been trading shifts with Herschel looking after the patients – he had been teaching you healing ever since you had left the farm.

Yet even through the constant care and isolation the prisoners were receiving, only a few of their conditions seemed to be improving.

You had volunteered to accompany Michonne on a supply run… or you would have, if it hadn’t been expected already that the two of you would be traveling together. You always accompanied each other on supply runs, ever since a close call in a gas station a few months ago in which you’d almost gotten your arm ripped off.

Reading the labels of various medications, you attempted to remember what you were looking for, even though you could hardly pronounce any of the names on the bottles. You would never admit it, but you were utterly lost.

Vaguely, you could hear a shuffling on the other end of the room, behind rows of shelves containing medications and first aid kits.

“I found around half of what Herschel wanted,” you said mindlessly, certain that it was Michonne that was approaching you, coming back from retrieving items from a list Lori had made. “I can’t fucking remember what else I’m meant to get, though. You’d be surprised at how much the old bastard has retained, he’s not a complete–”

A hand shot from behind the shelf you were standing before, wrapping around your throat.

You couldn’t scream. You couldn’t move at all as shock made its way through your body, paralyzing you.

You panicked as your breath escaped you, as you began to feel lightheaded, your vision spinning.

And then you were on the floor. The arm had fallen with you, clattering down beside you.

Though you were free, you could still hardly breathe. The realization of your release did not come until you saw the arm limp on the floor, and only then did your body begin to obtain the breath it craved.

Someone was kneeling beside you.

This time, you did not waste a moment, slipping the knife from the belt at your hip and pressing it to their throat–

Michonne ripped the knife from your hand, and you watched as blood dripped from the cut at her throat.

She had caught you just in time. You had only given her a cut that spanned a few inches, and it did not seem deep, yet still it tortured you.

Your breathing was heavy as you spoke between gasps. “I’m sorry,” you said quietly as you slumped against the wall. You couldn’t look at her, couldn’t look back at the cut, couldn’t imagine what would have taken place had she been too late.

She responded a beat too late and did not address her own injury. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, though your throat was still throbbing, and you were certain that bruises would form where the walker’s grip had been.

“What happened?” she hissed.

“I thought it was you returning,” you admitted, meeting her eyes. You observed the concern in her expression, and where you expected to find anger you found only worry. Glancing back to her throat, you took in a breath to speak, but she stopped you.

“Don’t you dare apologize,” she ordered, taking your hand. She glanced around the pharmacy. “We should get back. Did you get all of the meds?”

“No.”

“Well, Herschel will have to make use of what you’ve collected.”

She did not let you protest, guiding you to a stand and slipping an arm protectively around your waist.

You leaned into her, melting into her presence. The terror that had grasped you wore away with every second you spent in her embrace, for you knew that as long as you were in each other’s arms, no harm could come to you.

Neither of you spoke until you reached the horses waiting outside. No words were needed. You understood each other in a way that speech could not bring, a way that made vocalization useless.

You met her eyes, and she knew. She knew every intention, every thought.

Yet what she didn’t expect was your next words, for they seemed to come out of nowhere as you mounted your horse.

“I hope I die first between the two of us,” you admitted, watching her expression take on surprise.

“Why the hell would you wish that?”

“If I die first, I’ll know that I’ll have done my best to keep you safe. And while I won’t be there to protect you after I die, I’ll know that at the very least you’ll live after me, if only for a moment.”

Wordlessly she jumped off her horse, mounting yours behind you. You felt her kiss your shoulder before resting her chin there, running her hands up and down your waist. “You know I could never live without you.”

“Please, try,” you breathed, looking back at her.

She offered you a small smile, sealing her promise with a kiss – in the way her lips met yours you could feel the gentleness she offered, the eternal peace she swore to give you. Her love engulfed you in every way.

You pulled away, looking down at the cut on her neck. Gently you wiped away the blood that was still trickling down to her shirt.

What you didn’t tell her was that you would be content to die in her arms.

You would be content to know that your last breath would be spent with her gaze upon you, that in the last words you’d share you would find heaven.

You would be content to know that her life would stretch on long after yours, that this desolate life you had been plagued with would choose to drag you under before her.

You would wait for her – always, you would wait.

You did not tell her these things. You would never utter the words, for she already knew.

The love you had did not need words, and you were certain that even in death you would find your way back to the paradise that rested in her eyes.

#the walking dead #michonne #michonne twd #twd #woodbury #rick grimes #michonne x reader #ftwd #fear the walking dead

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autisticiyami · 5 months

Text

crazy? i was crazy once. they locked me in a room. a rubber room. a rubber room filled with rats. th

LISTEN TO MY AUTISM-INDUCED HEADCANONS BOY. i think about him a criminal amount i have his entire life planned out to fit with that ososan repainted idea i never did anything with that goes along with 80skun. do u see the vision. no? well ill show u. welcom to my freaking twisted evil mind. rant incoming.

also im gona be hopefully updating this semi-frequently as i draw more stuff and actually feel like explaining stuff. this post will be my Iyami Autism Diary now.

i dont have specific sources on any of these rn bc im writing this on my computer and also bc its probably something i saw once and didnt bother to save or anthing so. bear with me here.

-baby iyami. loveless child. born by a mother who always knew she would be better off without him and sharing the sibling moniker with an unironic sociopath older brother. emotionally neglected and naturally socially inept due to autism, along with like.. looking like that. you know he was torn to shred by everyone. japanese kids are RUTHLESS his entire elementary/middle school experience was getting his face dragged across the concrete and his lunch money stolen. i imagine he starts to become rlly jaded and outwardly mean as a defense mechanism in like 2nd/3rd grade, finally realizing that this shit isnt all sunshines and rainbows lil bro and that no one likes him. he went to school with both honkan and kaoru, honkan he would always get into scuffles with but kaoru was like the only kid that ever genuinely attempted to be nice to iyami. read: attempted. because iyami has bpd at the ripe age of 7 and a half and screams at him whenever hes around for no reason other than that hes really scared of him being a genuinely kind person. hes a fucked up kid in a fucked up situation surrounded by nothing but apathy and misunderstanding of how he works and thinks and wants. the scar on his face comes from an incident with his older brother who i imagine got so mad at him one time that he chased iyami around with a knife threatening to slit his throat open. luckily (or probably more unluckily) he just sliced the side of his face open. that was the first and last time that iyamis mother actually worried for him. and by "worried" i mean get mad at both of them for fucking around like that and then not taking iyami to get stitches because "he'd be fine."

-iyami's highschool experience is. slightly less horrific. mostly because hes kinda just accepted that everyone in the whole world hates him and at some point realized he should just live out of spite to piss everyone else off. he never really had any career dreams mostly since the only career he realistically could have was wage slave in the city, which would be like sending him to death row for him. due to his autism and prolonged abuse from all sides, hes become kind of an expert at knowing how people work, though he doesnt necessarily understand any of it. he realizes that he would much rather be a backpeddler on the streets than a corporate slave, so when hes kicked out at like 16/17 for being literally just a curseon his mother at that point hes right out there trying to charm his way into any way to make money. first couple years were difficult, i imagine he just. didnt finish highschool due to being homeless immediately. he always had a kickass sense of style though, and maybe bc he was younger he managed to pull off charm much more successfully. honestly i dont have too many any specific ideas ab this era sowwy... bc it kinda just exists as "the part before chibita" which speaking of

-his twenties and thirties is spent like the exact same way. like the autism is strong in this one hes very content with just being the worst. but thats only because he literally sees no other way for him to live because its all hes been offered to do by life. quite fucked up! but that leaves him with a great optimism and positive "nothing in life matters!!!!" attitude. i actuallyyyyy dont know exactly how to span this next part.... but i was thinking that he met chibita when the kid was around 6 and iyami was 30. iyami just kind of... adopts him? as a weird sort of nephew. but at the same time iyami is in a perpetual state of childishness so sometimes chibita is like the parent/uncle to iyami. theyre so strange. but speaking of iyamis childishness Yeah theres some side effects of prolonged neglect and trauma since first memory surprisingly!! iyami kind of aged backwards, having to mature early to try and protect himself and keep some level of sanity, he was never really treated like a kid especially not by mother and brother or even other kids. now that he's an actual adult his brain has sort of flipped over, now stuck in a weird area of feigning immaturity in every situation that isnt immediately "life-threatening" in his eyes. all that to say that iyami is agere and is basically regressed somewhat at all times and it just varies depending on the situation.

but yeah this era. a couple years after meeting chibita he ships himself off to the city suddenly hoping to be able to make something happen there Kind of an early mid-life crisis moment. and boy it is not great! this part is where i dump the rest of trauma on him but you dont get to hear that. something something tougou's crime ring. after like a bit under a year he ends up coming back and... HOLY FUCK IS THAT A REFERENCE TO THE FIRST EPISODE OF OSOMATSU-KUN 1988??? you bet your sorry ass it is. im literally so smart they shouldve hired me to make ososan dude.

-osokun '88 era happens ig?? his old situationship behated kaoru is a cop now apparently and he's stationed right in iyami territory. quite awkward! kaoru doesnt particularly like him 1 because like. cop/criminal dichotomy first of all. 2 because iyami was a cunt to him and honkan for seemingly no reason their entire childhood and 3 iyami seems to have a really weird complex of being mean and hating kaoru currently but also obviously going out of his way to get in kaoru's way. quite immature! i explained why that is though. kaoru in his infinite sweetnes though eventually just kinda feels bad for the dude because its kinda just pathetic at this point and also because he DOES know that iyami is actually a super cute sweet guy because there was one (1) time where as a kid iyami let his guard down around kaoru and played with him at his house after school just to be completely ripped to shreds literally and figuaratively by his classmates the next day when kaoru was acting super friendly with him and iyami just kinda blamed him for it for like 20 years. VERY pathetic! but he was like 9 dude. kaoru understands this and kinda just... lets iyami wreak havoc more than he would other people partly bc he still thinks hes pretty silly.

i have a whole big episode idea of the two getting together and probably hundreds of headcanons and ideas about the two together but tbh?? im gonna spare you and keep it as paraphrased as i can manage for both of our sanities. but watch me go back and edit this post or make a new one just infodumping ab everything about them.

but like yeah ig events happen. hey do u remember iyami's "daughter" who is actually his niece because there is no fucking way in any reality that this guy has procreated?? well she comes in sometime around here becasue her father (still an untreated aspd) kind of doesnt give a shit and neither does her whore mother and they choose to dump their kid off with uncle iyami for the summers now. yay!! i also have a lot of headcanons and stuff ab her (her name is hiyori btw) but thats for another post.

iyami's family turns into basically him, his husband, and his two (sometimes three) (some not actually legit) (and one is gone when it isnt the summer) neicephews. isnt that awsome??? i cry and scream and throw up just thinking about it. sometimes iyami is the nephew but thats awesome. sometimes a family can be some gay man and an orphan that is his husband's nephew and his husband's actual niece, his husband's lesbian best friend that is basically an aunt at this point, and his husband who is sometimes also his nephew/child because of cptsd and they are all autistic. truly beautiful stuff.

and yeah thats. that. like i said i'll be updating this with better explanations of stuff and hopefully actual art But this works for now!!!! no one wanted this but the world got it anyway. you can thank me later.

#my art #osomatsu kun #osomatsu kun 1989 #iyami #kaoiya #this might be my worst post yet #my headcanons #long post #like so long #lore dump #ig??#i dont actually care if anyone sees this btw #like i said its my diary now so idgaf!!

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yeonjuns-beanie · 2 years

Text

Vegas Lights

Warnings: 18+, smuuttt, unprotected sex, one night stand vibes kind of, drinking, alcohol consumption, oral(m receiving), slight daddy kink(mentioned twice), slight slight ass play, dom/sub themes, kinda fluffy at the end not really

Taehyung x female!reader

a/n: I started this fic when they landed in vegas and have been avoiding it since they left lolskdjfkd. I just didn't know what to do with it, but I finally figured it out. Hope you enjoy :)) - nero

Your eyes fluttered open as you felt the sun peak through the blinds. The warmth of spring hits you full force without even stepping outside. You sit up on your couch and reorientate your vision to your surroundings. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you get up from the couch you had taken your nap on and stretch. Feeling the blood rush back through your limbs and your body wake up, you grab your phone which had fallen in the couch cushion.

The clock on your lock screen read 4:50 and you had some notifications from your group chat. Opening your texts, you were faced with your friends planning your evening. You almost didn’t respond back but decided that you definitely needed a night out. With the end of the semester coming up faster than you expected you needed some type of relief.

Taylor: Y/N PLEASE ANSWER YOUR PHONE

Michelle: girl you know if she’s this silent shes prolly asleep

Cal: bitch pick up the phone i know it take you 9 years to get ready

Taylor: maybe if we just keep texting the notifs will wake her up

Cal: …we’ve been spamming….

Taylor: we’ll let's keep doing it

Y/N: damn y’all are needy

Michelle: fINALLY

Cal: girl wtf you been doing

Y/N: sleeping…

Cal: you are always sleeping wtf if it’s not that you’re swamped with school

Y/N: sjdkfkds bitch it’s not like i want to be swamped

Taylor: well maybe if you didn’t wait til the last minute

Y/N: …..

Y/N: .....

Y/N: least i stayed in school leave me alone

Taylor: HEY

Michelle: BITCHSDFKDF

Y/N: LOL ANYWAYS

Y/N: are we doing smth tn or whats going on

Michelle: girl i know you know bts in town…wanna hit the strip…and go out and be sexy

Cal: yeah be sexy,,,like always

Taylor: y’all are delusional it’s not like we gon run into em

Michelle: but we might…

Y/N: like our lil gamble, im down

Y/N: when we leavin

Cal: well it’s almost 4:30 now so yall wanna shoot for 8ish?

Taylor: I’ll drive cuz yall…be stupid

Y/N: lol u right

Y/N: aight see yall in a few

Michelle: go get made up for tae

With that, everyone liked your message and laughed at Michelle’s. A thumbs down coming from Taylor. You looked at your phone and laughed before setting your phone down on the couch and heading into the kitchen to grab something to munch on.

Opening the fridge you realized you didn’t have much of anything, so you settled on some fruit, grabbed a bottle of water, and walked into your bedroom. Setting your snack down on your bedside table, you walked to your closet and began the treacherous process of creating an outfit for tonight.

You saw one of your leather tops poking out from the row of clothes, almost calling on you to pick it. You grabbed your black jeans and left the thought of what shoes to wear before you left. Heading into the bathroom you got yourself ready.

You turned on your tv in your bedroom and put on a playlist so you could have some noise while you got ready. You started with your makeup first, knowing that it always took the longest. Once you finished you started to curl your hair. Feathering it away from your face so you’d have curl and volume once you finished. Pulling the iron out from its socket, you walked back into your main room to grab your phone and give it some charge.

Hooking it up to its charger, your home screen flashed open and you had 7 unread messages in your group chat and the clock read 7:50.

How do I always take forever to get ready?

You thought to yourself. Looking over your messages, you realized that Taylor was already making her way to picking everyone up. As you were reading over your missed messages, another sent through

Michelle: bitch you always the last one you better be ready when we pull up

Y/N: LOL i will i just finished my makeup i just gotta get dressed

Cal: well you better do it quick cuz we bout to pull in your complex

Y/N: damn

Dropping your phone on the bed you put on your clothes on quickly. Wiggling into your jeans you waddled over to your purse rack glossing your final accessory for the night. Sliding your pants up over the round of your ass, you landed on a purse colored black and purple and resembling fur.

Before deciding on a pair of shoes, you packed your bag of any cosmetics or necessities you may need through the night. You finally decided on a pair of black platforms, that brought you not only height but brought attention to your best asset; your lower half.

Spritzing yourself with your favorite perfume, you grabbed your phone and your bag and headed out your front door. Turning around to lock your apartment, you texted your group chat that you were on your way down. Coming out the from the stairway of your apartment you heard your friends catcalling you from Taylor's car.

Nothing like a warm welcome

Getting into the backseat you greeted everyone with a side hug due to your confinements in the car. Cal turned around to look at you,

“I’m impressed. I think this is the first time you came out to the car within 10 minutes. Proud of you babe”

“If you want me to take longer I can go take a shit real quick”

Taylor groaned

“Alright, off to the strip we go. If need be take your shit at Caesar’s or something”

You giggled,

“Where are we going anyway?”

Michelle but in before Taylor could respond

“Girl, ion know how Taylor did it but we going to fuckin Omnia tonight”

“The Steve Aoki club??”

“Yes!”

Taylor looked behind before backing out

“It doesn’t open until 10 so we got like two hours to kill”

“Well technically one because it’s a Friday night and we finna be on the strip.”

You clicked your teeth together letting out a slight hiss

“Maybe we should grab some food before we drink, or maybe even pregame. We can get those big ass daiquiris the just split it while we walk around before it opens.”

Cal hummed in agreement.

“Not a bad idea Y/N

Taylor looked up in the rearview mirror checking the lane over to make sure she was clear to enter the far right lane.

“Okay so I’m gonna park at the Venetian because it’s right across the street and we won’t have to pay for parking”

Cal groaned

“But it’s so far.”

Pulling into the driveway of the Venetian Taylor turned around

“Do you want to pay $20 for parking?”

The silence that erupted in the car was soon disturbed by bubbles of giggles.

“That’s what I thought”

After searching around the floors for a parking spot, you guys finally found one, and all climbed out of the car. Michelle swiped down the bottom of her skirt and huffed out.

“I did not think my shoes through”

As you guys were walking to the elevator Taylor laughed but assured your friend that she would be alright.

“We have a table so if you want, all you can do tonight is sit and look pretty.”

“Haha very funny”

Coming down the elevator, you could smell the faint scent of various cigarettes and cigars pouring through the vents. The signature slightly clean scent that all Vegas hotels had was the overtone of the atmosphere. The elevator finally dinged down to the ground level and you guys began your trek out to the boulevard.

Turning left onto the street, you saw Omnia on the right side of the street. Looking around the strip felt different. It didn’t feel like Vegas. The strip's aura was different with the addition of BTS being in town. The strip being purple, the Borahegas posters adorning some billboards, the pop-up shops you knew were around town, and the billboards playing their faces. It all felt new and fresh. The warm welcome for BTS making Vegas seem not so dull for once in your life.

As you guys continued your walk, you saw a Fat Tuesday’s not too far ahead.

“Hey, guys, why don’t we go to Fat Tuesday’s. We can get the big frozen drink there!”

Despite the line you saw forming from the building, you guys didn’t mind because it was a Friday night. Everywhere was going to be busy so you kinda had to suck it up. The further you walked into the strip the more the scent changed and now it resembled something of New York. Humid trash, sewage, and an array of smoke filled the air.

By the time you guys reached the counter to get your drinks, it was bordering 9:30pm. Spotting Ceasar’s Palace in the distance, you guys decided to make the walk down to Omnia. The walk took up most of the time and the rest was spent waiting in the line for the club to open. Once inside the atmosphere had one thing on your mind.

I’m bringing someone or someone is taking me home tonight.

You had been long overdue for some loving in the sheets and you were determined to have that rectified this evening. Looking around the building, the lights were more than bright, the music had your chest vibrating. The bass reverberating off your fleshy walls and finding purchase in your stomach. You looked over towards the bar but your friends kept walking further, following Taylor.

Trying to catch up, your eyes caught a man with floppy black hair, bangs hanging softly to the side, and in a white shirt tracking your moves. His stare was intense and it had excitement brewing in your stomach. Shooting him a small smile, you whipped your head back towards your friends and followed them outside.

Cal was the first to speak up.

“Bitch you got a fuckin table?? Who’d you blow for this?”

You and Michelle both laughed, Michelle, finding comfort in the seating provided.

Taylor rolled her eyes and shot Cal a look.

“Your dad, now what do you want to drink?”

“First of all, my dad is nowhere near a dilf so props to you soldier. Second, Sex on the Beach.”

You laughed

“Fruity bitch.”

“Y/N we go over this every time, not everyone likes to be throwing ass by their second drink, some of us like to enjoy being tipsy.”

“Sounds fruity to me”

“Girl, shut up.”

Looking towards Michelle she waved you off and told you her usual.

You all giggled and Taylor looked at you motioning you to come with her to the bar. Approaching the long counter, you saw a familiar head.

They guy from when you walked in. It was as if he could sense your presence, his head turning to glance over his surroundings and he stopped abruptly, taking a quick double take when his eyes fell on you. You bowed your head slightly, feeling a little flushed. You straightened yourself out and leaned up against the bar to tell the bartender your order. Standing up straight you looked to your left finally becoming acquainted with the eyes that were boring into you.

He looked down at you and smirked. A range of emotions ran through your face before he finally spoke.

“Taehyung. What’s your name beautiful?”

“Y/N.”

“Pretty name you have there.”

You giggled looking down at the counter, as if the gods above were trying to save you from your own embarrassment, the bartender slid your drinks toward you and Taylor.

“Want me to start a tab for you guys or is this it for now?

Taylor spoke before you

“We’ll close it for now.”

The bartender gave the total and Taylor just told you to zelle her your part once you got to the table. She grabbed the third drink.

“What are you doing, I’ll help.”

Taylor came up to your ear,

“Girl, you are about to be real busy, come back when you’re finished with him.”

She laughed, leaving you with a strand of shame before looking back to the man named Taehyung. Wanting a conversation to start flowing you racked your brain for conversation starters.

“So what brings you out here?”

Really Y/N? That’s your best thought??

What surprised you was how his eyes seemed to go wide at your question. Almost as if he was confused by it.

“Well for a few things actually. My band members and I are performing for the Grammy’s this weekend and we have a few shows the two weeks following.”

For some reason, who it was you were talking to was not clicking. Even though half of the reason for coming out tonight was to “run into BTS and be sexy”, you were in fact face to face with a BTS member and couldn’t bring yourself to run with the reality of it. You were holding a conversation with Taehyung himself yet you did not recognize in the moment that it was Taehyung. In doing so, your next question further caught him off guard.

“Oh! That’s pretty awesome! What’s your band's name?”

Proudly, he slipped back into his native tongue. “방탄소년단” falling from his lips. Suddenly reality hit you. You realized whom it was you were talking with and now your stomach was in your ass.

“-but most people know us by just BTS.”

Keep your cool Y/N. Don’t give in just yet

Trying to keep your facade up, you kept with the idea that you did not know who he was. You wanted not only to have a shot at getting laid, but also you wanted to let him feel like he could have a normal experience with someone and not be mauled by useless questions and fanatics.

“Oh! Yeah! I think I’ve heard a few of your guys’ songs before.”

“Did you like them?”

You laughed trying to expel some of your anxieties

“Yeah, actually! I’m not a big pop music person but you guys have a lot of range so there’s so much variety to your music. It’s cool”

He nodded his head, looking like he was searching for another topic of discussion. Or perhaps he was just figuring you out. You grabbed your drink and sucked back more than half of it through the two straws in a less than poor attempt to rid yourself of your nerves. Looking back up at Taehyung you went to open your mouth to speak but he beat you to it.

“Thirsty?”

He cocked his eyebrow, fully indulging in making you squirm in front of him. As you scrambled to find words to a response, he laughed and cut you off again.

“Don’t hurt yourself thinking darling, I’m just playing with you. Wanna dance?”

You couldn’t believe this. You were actually about to dance with an idol, and not just any idol it was Taehyung. You felt like you were in a sick dream and at any moment this was going to be ripped from you with your eyes tearing open from sleep. Unconsciously, you nodded your head to him and he placed his hand out for you to grab. When your palm met his, you finally actualized your situation. This was real and it was happening to you.

With the alcohol in your system begging to brew and settle in between your legs creating warmth and you were beginning to find newfound confidence. You swayed your hips with a little more fluidity as he guided you through the crowds of people. Finally reaching the main area of the floor, you felt sensuality seep into your being. You looked up at him with a hopeful innocent look, but anybody could see the desire swimming in your pupils.

A song you knew came through the speakers, and you laid your back against his chest moving your hips to the bass of the song. Feeling yourself loosen up, you wanted to almost present yourself to him, give him a reason to want to take you back to his room.

You swayed your body against him, your plump ass grinding against his lower half more than a few times. His hands were large, larger than you could ever imagine and they enveloped you like velvet ropes. They were rough yet gentle in nature and knew exactly where to touch you while you two were in each other’s embrace.

You felt butterflies and warmth flourish in your stomach and lower half. You spun around with this grandiose confidence and you rolled your body against his following the flow of the music. You wrapped your arms around his neck and a smirk grew on his face.

“Who’s this minx I’m with now? What happened to the timid little lady over at the bar?”

You smiled and lightly tangled your hands in his curls at the bottom of his head fire

“Guess I finally got out of my head.”

To the beat of the music, you snaked your way down his body and looked up at him, your eyes filled with concupiscent intent. As you made your way back up, you turned your body back around to place your backside against his front. He placed his large hand on your hip and pushed your body into his, leaving no room for apprehension.

“You’re quite the dancer Y/N. Wonder if the way you move translates somewhere else.”

He trailed off, pulling back away from you only to spin you back to face him so he could gauge your expression. You bit your lip in anticipation and smiled at him.

“What are you getting at Taehyung?”

The way your voice dripped off your tongue sent a chill up his spine and blood in between his legs. He felt himself twitch behind his pants and he wrapped his arms around your waist again now pressing you against him so that you could feel the effect of yourself on him.

“I think you know exactly what I’m getting at sweetheart. Wanna get out of here?”

You smiled.

“I would want nothing more.”

The crowd of people shielded your hand grazing over the front of his pants to punctuate your desire for him.

“But first I need to go back to my table and grab my bag.”

Taehyung stepped back and guided his hand in front of him

“Lead the way.”

Walking back toward the back of the venue you eventually made it through the endless maze of people and back to the table where all your girls resided. As you finally came into view, Michelle was the first one to notice you and then her eye flew from her skull noticing the man trailing behind. You made a face that silently said “Please don’t freak out”. To which she just knocked back her drink to find her composure.

As you walked up to the table you grabbed your bag and told them your plan for the night.

“I know it’s kinda early but I met this man and were gonna walk the strip for a bit. He wants me to show him around.”

Taehyung smiled behind you lightly, partly due to your bold face lie and partly due to the reactions around the table. Cal spoke up second looking at you with judging eyes.

“You crazy bitch. A’ight have fun and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

You laughed

“That’s practically everything, Cal.”

“Exactly.”

She pointed behind you with her drink,

“As for you, I’ll find out everything in the blink of an eye. So, don’t do anything stupid.”

Taehyung threw his hand up in defeat

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

You finally picked up your bag and gave everyone a hug, itching to get out of there. When you reached Taylor, she hugged you a little tighter than usual and spoke directly into your ear so that only you could hear.

“You’re crazy you know that?”

“It’s literally what we came out here for I can’t pass it up.”

“I’m not gonna stop you, but please be careful. And if anything you know I’ll be there faster than a minute. Send me your location when you get to wherever you’re going.”

You pulled away from her and you both shared a tender moment silently letting each other know your thoughts.

“I’ll let you know everything as soon as I can.”

“Good. Okay, enough sap, go fuck your heart out and tell us everything in the morning.”

You finally walked away your hand laced in Taehyung’s so that maneuvering through the club would be easier. You went out an opposite way than you came in and you assumed that it was for private valet purposes. Once you reached the outside, a cool breeze passed through the air, sending you to press into Taehyung’s side.

“Someone’s eager.”

“It was the wind you ass, don’t get ahead of yourself.”

He hummed in response as a blacked out SUV, pulled into the driveway of the valet. Taehyung looked at and nudged his head toward the car.

“C’mon princess, let’s get in.”

He opened the door for you something that surprised you for some reason. As you slid into the back seat, Taehyung scooted in next to you getting almost unbearably close. You could finally smell him without the overbearing scents of everything around you and it was intoxicating. He flushed out a scent of light musk and something reminiscent of freshly burnt tobacco. You wanted to bottle it and save it till the end of time. As he shut the door the driver looked behind through the lowered partition.

“Back to the mansions, sir?”

“Yes. And would you mind rolling up the partition?”

The driver nodded his head and began his route to “mansions”. You could feel Taehyung’s eyes boring into the side of you and slowly turned your head to look at him. Your eyes glazed over. He patted his lap and looked back up into your eyes.

“Come a little closer, I don’t bite. Hard, at least.”

You tossed your purse to the other side of the car and straddled his lap.

He dragged his hands up and down your torso before bringing his hand up to your cheek.

“You are so breathtakingly beautiful. I can’t wait to ruin you.”

A pulse involuntarily ripped through your core and Taehyung wanted nothing more than to let you know that he felt it completely.

“Oh, so you want the same thing, huh?”

His hand spidered around to the nape of your neck and grabbed a handful of your hair, controlling your movements.

“You’re a filthy little one, aren’t you?”

You trailed your hands down the front of his torso and slowly calculated your eyes back up to his. Your hands were beginning to tangle in his hair again before you spoke.

“Why don't you find out, daddy?”

It was as if every inhibition that he had was torn away by the sheer desire he felt for you. He halted his movements for a moment, hovering his lips over yours. You weren’t gonna fold so you played with him in return. Reaching forward as if you were going to make the final move and then backing away slightly making him chase you. He reinforced his grip in your hair and finally pressed his lips on top of yours.

The kiss was rapacious. Filled with a mutual need that could only be satiated in one way. You kissed him back with full voracity, grinding yourself into his lap. His hands moved from your hair, down to your thighs and grabbed as much as he could, molding your skin to his liking. With a roll of your hips, you felt him growing beneath you and you let a small moan slip.

You felt him smirk and in an attempt to regain a bit of control you bit his bottom lip pulling away at it. A groan left him and he pulled away from you. Even in the darkness of the car, you could sense the blown out look on his face.

“You said you didn’t bite, I never said anythin-“

He cut you off pulling you in closer and settling his mouth at the crossroads where your neck and shoulders met. He placed open mouth kisses before lightly biting down, waiting to see your reaction. With the airy moan that left you, he continued his assault. You grabbed his face and guided it to look back at yours to kiss his lips again. You felt your head become clouded with lust as the car began slowing down.

“Tae-“

“Sir, we have arrived. Anything else you need before I let you two out?”

“No, thank you.”

With that, Taehyung moved you off of him to open the door. You grabbed your purse and slid to the side of the open door where Taehyung was waiting with his hand held out for you.

“Thank you.”

Looking up, you realized you were outside of the Mansions at MGM. You only ever really heard about this property considering you never had the means to be in such a high end area in the first place. In your stupor, you failed to hear Taehyung calling your name. The cadence of his voice was something nuanced in the distance. You finally came to and the look in Taehyung’s eyes was enough to make anyone feel everything nerves had to offer. You cowered your neck in a bit of embarrassment as he led you to the entrance of the building.

“I see the woman from the bar decided to join us on our trip.”

“Sorry I just didn’t expect to pull up here ya know?”

“What were you expecting sweetheart?”

“A hotel and not the mansions”

You chuckled out literally trying to expel yourself of any nerves. For some reason, this seemed to work because the moment you stepped inside the need you felt from earlier made its reappearance. Feeling a bit more comfortable in the reclusive nature of the building. You walked a little closer to him, leaning your body into his while you two waited for the elevator to open. Taking a quick look at your surroundings, you realized that no one was in your general vicinity so you snaked your hand down the front of his body and brought your head to his shoulder to look at him in the eye.

“I wouldn’t get too ahead of yourself.”

Taehyung had a warning look in his eyes telling you to stop while you continued your ministrations subtly. When the elevator door opened you pulled yourself away from him and followed him in. You decided to open your group chat and send your location so they would feel a little bit safer knowing where you were. When you did you put your phone back into your purse but immediately felt a rush of vibrations wave through the fabric. Y

ou smiled to yourself, and just before you had the chance to look over at Taehyung, the bell dinged to the floor he was on and the doors opened. He grabbed your hand and brought you out quickly to walk down the hall to his room. Upon reaching the door, you barely had the chance to see him open it before you were spun around and pushed against the inside of the door.

“Think you can do whatever you want just cause I brought you here with me?”

“Considering you’ve done nothing to make me think otherwise, yeah I do.”

You chuckled but it was soon overshadowed by Taehyung’s scoff as he shook his head.

“You’re a brat.”

“Glad you figured that out. Now, what are you gonna do about it.”

The ball was in his court and it seemed like he didn’t know how to do anything but hold it. His energy seemed to shy for a blip in time before a dominating aura encased him. Taehyung brought his hand next to your head that was resting against the door and brought his body inches away from your own. You felt your gall dwindle at this moment feeling like prey in his presence. He brought his face to yours and spoke again.

“Tell me what you want and maybe I’ll indulge.”

You looked up facing him in his eyes and smiled one last time before he took over the reins for the night completely.

“I don’t beg…daddy.”

His response was one more than unexpected but it excited you entirely.

“You will.”

There was a different kind of hunger to this kiss than the one that was shared in the car. It’s like he was trying to prove something to you with this one. You let your purse drop from your arm, landing on the floor by your feet and you brought your hands up to his body. His hands began roaming your curves and you rolled your body into his. Reaching the curve of your ass, he squeezed at the flesh again and you brought your leg up, riding against the side of his own.

“Jump.”

Swallowing any doubt about yourself you listened to his command. You jumped and wrapped your legs around him. He carried you both to the bed and he laid you down, the motion somewhat gentler than all his previous actions. You attempted you keep the kiss in motion, but he pulled away leaving you chasing after him. Smirking at you he got a premiere showing of your want for him and he relished in that before you had the chance to take it away from him.

He brought his lips back to yours and when he did you tried to fight your place for dominance for a spare moment. You swiped your tongue along his lip, asking permission before embarking on your ministration with his mouth. Your tongue slipped into his mouth with permission granted from his end. Your tongues campaigned for preeminence over each other and Taehyung smiled into the kiss sensing your objective.

He tried to pull away again but you seized his lips in between your teeth, halting his movements. Taehyung complied with your actions leaning back into the kiss. His hands roamed your body once again, finding purchase on your breast, where he pinched your nipple making you gasp.

With his lips freed from your reign, he began leaving opened mouth kisses on your neck and trailing down to the valley of your breasts. Unzipping the leather top, he was met with the pleasant surprise that you were free of a bra underneath your top.

“Expecting something to happen Y/N?”

“Not necessarily but I’m glad that it is.”

Slipping the top off, he threw it across the room. He continued his trail down to the hem of your pants, undoing them and peeling the fabric away from your skin. Reaching your ankles he removed you of your shoes as well. Feeling overly vulnerable due to your lack of clothes, you waited for him to hover back above you before whining and pulling at his shirt.

“You’re wearing too much.”

“Then take it off sweetheart.”

Pulling apart at the buttons you undid his shirt and as he slipped out of the sleeves you admired his naked upper half. Going silent you seemed to forget that this was real life and not a movie that you could just pause and stare at. His voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“Y/N, take a picture instead. You can stare as long as you want.”

You rolled your eyes up at him, internally embarrassed by his comment realizing that you had just been caught red handed. Sticking your embarrassment somewhere else within you, you found the confidence to flip the two of you over, leaving you on top. With you in this new position, you felt vulnerable and powerful all in the same breath.

Leaning down you brought yourself to the belt on his pants, undoing it and his pants. You looked up at him and removed him from his bottom half of clothing, shoes included. Letting the array of fabrics pool on the floor you brought your hand up to massage over the bulge residing in his underwear.

A small hiss left his mouth, letting a small smile form on your face. Gently placing your fingertips at the hem of his underwear, you began slowly pulling down the fabric much to Taehyung’s muller. Rubbing over his clothed cock one more time you wanted to see if you could get a moan out of him and you did. Built up need and anticipation were vocalized and that’s all you needed to relieve him of his cottoned prison.

Watching his dick spring out of his underwear and against his stomach had your mouth salivating immediately. Whipping your hair to one side, you brought your mouth down to his tip. Placing small licks underneath the tip, you waited for him to say something, and it never came.

Feeling that you had control over the situation, you continued to do what knew best. Flattening your tongue against his hard cock, you dragged it from base to tip, dragging out a long moan from his lips. Teasingly, you sucked on his tip before dangling over his tip gathering spit in your mouth to dribble down his cock.

Hollowing out your cheeks, you fit as much of him as you could. When you reached his base, his hairs tickling at the tip of your nose, he groaned out. Finally relishing in the pleasure he’d been seeking. But it wasn’t enough.

He wanted more of you. He needed it. Out of your sight, his hand combed through your hair causing you to look up at him through your lashes, something that had him rolling his head back with an esoteric chuckle.

“Y/N, god damn.”

His hand that was once allowing him to look at your face, was now traveling to the back of your head and he gave a test push, seeing what your reaction would be. You smiled to yourself and brought your head up. He went to open up his mouth, but before he could you beat him to it.

“Use me, Taehyung.”

His eyes blew wide and so did his pupils, lust becoming their new color. With newly granted permission, Taehyung began fucking your mouth. His cock was hitting the back of your throat and you were swallowing your gags as best you could for his moans were sending pulses straight to your pussy. With each thrust, you could feel yourself getting wetter.

“Y/N, fuck. I’m cumming.”

You hummed against him adding to the stimulation he was already feeling. Then with the swiftness of wind, his tone changed and his grip on your hair became just a bit tighter than before.

“Swallow it.”

And who were you to deny? With a few more pumps of your head, you felt his load be released into your mouth. Warm and with a bite, you savored the taste. When you felt the shots decrease to nothing but twitches of his muscle, you pulled yourself off of him and swallowed all he had to offer.

Moving any hair from your face, you looked at him and showcased your tongue of what it had nothing to show. Wiping leftover saliva from the corner of your mouth Taehyung lurched forward flipping you onto your back.

What surprised you was the growl that erupted from his throat. With an intense ferocity, his lips were back on yours again. But you needed more than just his mouth. There was a violent ache between your legs and you needed to be satiated by anything other than a kiss. His cock was in view and surprisingly fully erect again. You arched your back away from the bed, weaving your fingers through his loose waves. Whining you let out a small

“..Please..”

Pulling away he smirked

“Sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

“Please. Please Taehyung. I need you.”

Smiling he brought his hands to the lace trimming of your panties, pulling them down your legs and tossing them on the floor.

“What happened to ‘I don’t beg’”

Rubbing your face into the pillow, you looked up at him

“Fuck that, I need you. I need you so bad.”

He was savoring this side of you. So much so that he decided to see how much further he could push you. Rubbing his cock against your folds, he placed himself right before he could fully enter you.

“How much Y/N? I don’t think I know how much you actually need it.”

“Taeyhung, please! I need you inside me. I need to feel you ruin me. Please, just fuck me already!”

Before your vocal cords had the chance to let the words reverbate against your chest, he sunk himself inside your walls all the way to the base. You both moaned out at the long, anticipated feeling. He filled you up so well. You couldn’t tell whether it was just your hormones making this feel more intense than what it was but you swore you could feel the vein on his cock drag against your walls each time he thrust in and out of you.

“Tae, fuck. Holy fuck you feel so good.”

He hovered over you, his face hanging inches above your own. His nose dusting yours.

“Yeah? Feels good baby, huh?”

Your hands found purchase on his toned back and dragged down his skin, earning a graon from him.

“Yes, fuck. You feel so good, Tae!”

“Shit keep calling me that.”

His pace increased and there was an unspoken need between the two of you that needed to be released. Your walls kept clenching around him, a warmth beginning to spread in your lower half. But Taehyung was not going to let you feel your release without a chance to mock your need.

“Aww, is my baby close, hmm?”

“Yes, yes Tae, right there. I’m close, I’m so close!”

Bringing his hand down to your clit, he began rubbing you in small circles bringing you to your climax closer than you thought. When you released, it was full body. Your pussy was clamping around him and your stomach was spasming in on itself. Truly losing control in your pleasure. Before you had a chance to come down from your high, you felt yourself being flipped on your hands and knees.

“You said you wanted to be used.”

Taehying came down to your ear to deliver the last bit.

“And I’m gonna use you.”

Taking his length, he entered you again and began an unrelenting pace. His cock was reaching places it hadn’t previously. Kissing your cervix and grinding against that special little spongy spot inside of you. You screamed out at the pleasure. Your back arching as far as it could giving him more access to you. Taehyung grabbed your hips and moved his hands eloquently to hold onto the fat of your ass, moving it in tandem with his thrusts.

You couldn’t see it, but there was a darker look that overtook Taehyungs features while staring at the ripple of your ass against him. Gathering spit in his mouth, he let the glob of saliva hit your puckered hole.

The surprise sensation caused your eyes to open and you turned your head around to face him. You felt his hand move toward the middle of your ass and before you could voice your query, his thumb pushed inside of your tightest of holes.

Your eyes rolled back, the extra sensation sending you somewhere beyond oblivion

“Fuckin shit, Tae!”

You lost all decorum. Your breath was fast and loud and your moans even louder. Taehyung’s moans grew in frequency, sending down your spiral of pleasure even faster than before.

“Y/N, fuck. I’m gonna cum. Where do you want me?”

“Inside.”

“Shit are you sure?”

“Tae, please, cum inside me.”

With both of your holes being stimulated, you couldn’t help how desperate you sounded. You felt your rapture on the horizon and you weren’t finding any reason to stop it.

“Fucking slut. You’re filthy, so fucking filthy.”

You knew his words were in vain, his breath overtaking most of his tone as his peak rushed upon him. His thrusts faltered into something less punctuated and you felt his warmth coat your body once again. Feeling him release inside of you sent your you climax over its precipice. Squeezing around him so tightly, he groaned as he finished inside of you.

Slowing himself down, you began to feel him soften and he pulled out of you completely. Laying down on the bed next to you, you let your body fall limp. Trying to catch your breath you looked at him weakly, body still overcome by dissipating lust.

“Where’s um, where's the bathroom in here?”

He pointed.

“There’s one by the main door and then there’s one over there.”

Nodding, you brought yourself up and walked towards the one by the main door. You grabbed your purse off the floor and walked in. You glanced over your appearance and were surprised by the woman you saw looking back at you. You smiled lightly, the after sex glow overshadowing the mess of your makeup.

Cleaning yourself up, you grabbed your phone from your purse and walked back out into the bedroom getting ready to grab your clothes and leave for the night, not wanting to overstay your welcome. Taehyung was stretched out on the bed, clearly having already cleaned himself up, and was watching your every move. You didn’t notice yet, because your shyness had returned just as easily as it left. The timbre of his voice snapped your head up out of its thoughts.

“There’s a shirt there you can use for the night. I don’t really have much else that would fit as pajamas I think.”

You furrowed your brow

“For the night?”

“Yes? I’m not gonna have you walk around at night here trying to find your friends again. Although I’m sure you could do it, it wouldn’t sit right with me.”

“So you want me to stay here?”

“Thought that was more than obvious, darling.”

“Oh, okay…”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“No, that’s not it, I just don’t want to impose.”

“Y/N, it’s not imposing if I’m offering.”

You nodded silently in agreement, smiling lightly. You slipped into his shirt and it hit just past your mid thigh. Grateful that it covered more than you thought it would. A gentle pat caught your attention and Taehyung was looking at you while patting the space next to him. Climbing back in the bed, you got comfortable, but not too close not wanting to invade his space.

“After all that just happened, now you’re even shyer?”

“I just don’t wanna be weird!”

He laughed. Your personality checking all of his boxes.

“You’re funny.”

“Glad you think so.”

He grabbed your body and scooted you closer to him so that you had no choice but to be laid on top of him.

“You know, if you don’t have any plans tomorrow. I’d quite enjoy you showing me around here. Maybe some of your favorite spots…”

He trailed off, passing the ball into your court.

“Sure, I’d love to.”

He smiled to himself and reached over the bedside table to grab the remote and turn on the TV. You grabbed your phone and texted your group chat one last time for the night.

Y/N: Y’all are not gonna believe what I have to tell you…

Clicking your phone off you placed it beside you and rested your head on Taehyung’s lap, slowly feeling yourself drift off to sleep.

#bts #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts imagines #taehyung #taehyung smut #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kim taehyung smut #taehyung fanfic #taehyung x reader #taehyung fluff #v smut #bts v x reader #kim taehyung

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atzsslut · 3 years

Text

requested by @let-this-be-a-lesson from this, and this list.

chosen prompt(s) :

#1 - “Is that my sweater?”

#11 - “If you were my boyfriend/girlfriend/partner, I’d probably never stop staring at you.”

pairing : bang chan x fem ! reader

genre : fluff

warnings : long time best friends, very obvious crushing, kind of more than friends (unidentified relationship) to lovers, implied slow burn

word count : 2.4k words

You promised to meet Chan almost an hour ago.

The adrenaline coursed through your body as you ran out of the bathroom after a shower, which was relatively dangerous but you didn’t care, sprinting back to your room to get into some decent clothing.

As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you almost punched it from the frustration. But you didn’t, of course, as if you didn’t have enough bad luck already.

Are you that stupid to have fallen asleep on the couch? You thought to yourself. You were much too thankful that you already washed your hair in the morning, so it looked good enough now.

As you dropped your towel, you swore that you’ve never grabbed such a mismatched set of underwear and bra before, but it didn’t matter. You’d opt yourself to become quicksilver if it was for Chan.

Your hands let themselves skim through until your phone lit up on top of your cupboard and showed three notifications from the man himself. You froze in your spot reading the following messages.

chan: okay :( if u insist [5:02 PM]

chan: but since u seem tired [5:03 PM]

chan: i’ll pick u up since i’m only 10 mins away [5:03 PM]

Your mind went back to when you had woken up to three missed calls from Chan, various texts asking if you were alright since you never missed a ‘hangout’. At least, that’s what you two always called your frequent meets.

Your first instinct was to call him back, your voice rather nasally from the blocked nose you always got after sleeping. His kind voice kept replaying in your head;

“Chan, I’m so so sorry-”

“Oh, did you just wake up?”

“I.. yes. Yes I did. I’m so sorry, I fell asleep because I ran a million errands up until 3pm.”

“Hey, no. It’s okay. It’s not your fault. Do you want to move our hangout to some other day? I think I’m quite free this week.”

“No, no. I need to see you, honestly. My stress has piled up and it’ll be great to see you. You always cheer me up.”

“I try my best, Y/N. I’ll wait for you as long as you’d like. Go get ready!”

“Will do, Mr. Bang. Thank you so so much!”

The last thing you heard after the call ended was his farewell that was mixed in with his infectious laugh, and that was when you ran towards the shower to get the thin layer of sweat that always came after a nap in the living room.

Your fingers quickly typed away a ‘did god send u down to me as my angel or smthn THANK U BANG CHAN’ before going back to rushing to pick out a nicer outfit.

Because of him willing to pick you up, you had an extra ten minutes to get ready but your mind was still blank from the adrenaline rush. You had picked yourself out a cream-coloured pleated skirt, but you had no idea what to pair it with until you saw a familiar black sweater pushed to the back of the drawer.

You weren’t too sure why it was familiar to you, but it was nice enough for you to use with the skirt. For a reason you couldn’t pinpoint, it hugged your body well enough, but the area where you could see the stitch of the shoulders were clearly too broad for you, falling around the middle of your upper arms.

Strange, you thought, I don’t remember buying this but it’s so comfortable.

And just like he said, Chan was there in ten minutes, voice heard through your apartment intercom, asking you to come downstairs. Although you tried to ignore it, you were excited just from hearing his voice through that old system speaker.

Taking the elevator down to the lobby, you smiled seeing the boy standing around, clearly waiting for you to come down, as he kept shifting his feet.

It was music to his ears as well when he heard you call out his name. Although he would never admit it, or so he thinks, he swore that he heard a hymn whenever ‘Chan’ spilled from your lips. But he shook that away when he reached in for a side hug.

“Hey you.” he said, “You look awfully fresh for someone who just woke up.”

“I work my magic.” you boasted, not wanting to admit the fuss you made for him. Since Chan was a bit taller than you, not by too much (which you teased him about, but he only let it be because it was you), you held onto him as well by slinging your arm around his waist.

And as you both walked to the parking lot at the front, stuck together like two pieces of paper with a hefty amount of glue in the middle, that was when Chan stopped right in front of his car.

You looked at him with concern, thinking that he’d probably left something inside, “Did you forget something?”

He paused, looking at you with the face he’d make whenever Felix did something strange. That wasn’t new, but you felt flustered when he let you go and stood in front of you, arms crossed, eyes checking out your whole body.

You looked at him strange, not understanding what he was doing. Your hand only clutched your bag strap harder, not understanding the situation. But before you could say anything, he cut you off.

“Is that my sweater?”

And the realization hit you.

A few months ago, Chan had gone to your place to spend some time with you after not getting to meet you for three weeks. But of course, the two of you did not look at the weather forecast when a rainstorm dawned over the whole of Seoul.

You insisted that Chan should not be driving in this weather in fear of a accident, but he did have to get his car to the indoor parking lot incase it began to hail. However, once he had gotten back, the umbrella you had given him was soaked and so was he, the two of you getting into a hysterical laughing fit at the state he was in.

In all seriousness, you did quickly get him out of the clothes he was wearing and washed them, shyly looking away when he directly began to take his shirt off in the living room until you yelled “Chan! I have a bathroom!”

However, as the night passed, after he slept in the same bed as you, finding his arm around your waist in the morning to which he quickly pulled away in surprise— he left with only his jeans and socks that had been dry cleaned.

“Oh shit, this is your sweater!” you swore, the event having replayed itself in your forgetful mind, “I’ll clean it after this and give it back to you.”

“Oh, no. You look better in it than I do.” he complimented.

In between your reminiscing, he had clicked the car key, making the vehicle make the familiar unlocking sound and flashing lights. Running over to your side, he opened the door for you.

“M’lady.” he offered,

“M’Chan.” you joked, only to laugh for a bit then go in with a murmured, “Sorry that was cheesy.”

“It was!” he admitted, yelling so you could hear him through the car glass since you closed the door already. He did his little jog over to the drivers seat and went it rather smoothly, not that you were impressed by that.

“So, arcade?” he asked, smiling when you nodded and tapped excitedly on his dashboard.

Once again, in ten minutes, the two of you had reached the destination, quickly running out as if the both of you were six, and not in your early 20s.

As you ran into building, fluorescent hitting your eyes with a familiar nostalgia coming alongside them, much too familiar from the high school days of you and Chan going to another arcade that was already closed down now.

“So, what do you want to do first?” you asked, as if you didn’t guess the answer already.

Chan looked forward, scanning the place more and finally seeing a row of big, bulky, metal boxes that couldn’t be missed. He pointed at them, rather cutely to add, smiling down at you.

You gave him an excited grin back, happy that you guessed right in your head. You walked ahead, pleased to hear him tread behind you at a faster pace to catch up with you.

Drawing back the curtain, the two of you went inside and swiped the arcade card that you had because of several trips that were forced by your auntie with your little cousins. Luckily, there was still money inside.

The recognizable ‘twinkling’ sound of the photo booth rang in both your ears, opting you to choose the frame decor, etc.

And as the screen showed both your faces, a robotic voice was heard through the same speakers at the sides of the booth, stating ‘please move more towards the centre, thank you’

But if anyone were to look inside, you and Chan were already considerably close, especially since the bench space wasn’t wide at all. But you side-eyed the boy, scooting closer to him as he did the same to you.

You felt his arm squish against yours, feeling flustered at the sudden contact.

“Can..uh..” he trailed, “Can I put my arm around you? I.. I think it’ll make the pictures look less awkward, don’t you think?”

“Y-yeah!” you responded a bit too enthusiastically. Clearing your throat, you gave him the gentle smile that he could never hate, “Yeah. Go ahead, Chan.”

He did as he asked. Unlike the playful hug that you two had shared in your apartment lobby, this one felt more intimate, especially when you saw the screen reflecting the two of you.

You could feel his rings dig against his cotton sweater on your body, assuming now that it was yours, comfortable enough for you to feel secure— at home. Nevertheless, you always felt that Chan was your home.

Your eyes fixated on the screen as you moved forward to press the red button that would soon make you both take simultaneous pictures together.

We look good together, you thought to yourself, Wait what? Shut up.

But why did this feel different? You two had taken hundreds of photos together, varied with ridiculous, attractive, and unnecessary ones. But you swallowed that wondering lump in your throat, quickly dismissing it as you posed with Chan for each one, your vision rather blurry for a reason you couldn’t pinpoint.

And as the twelve clicks ended, Chan stood up first. You were quite upset about the absence of his embrace, but didn’t mind it when he smiled at you like he always did,

“Let’s see the pictures.” he held his hand out for you to take, which you graciously did, feeling the pit of your stomach drop as you, as per usual, questioned what your relationship with him was at this point.

The two pairs of feet, albeit the both of you were wearing matching shoes on accident, met their way towards the printing area. Looking at the screen which read 99% complete, Chan heard the sound of the photo paper hit the stopper that avoided the prints from falling on the ground.

He bent down and took it, showing it to you. Naturally, your arms went around his left bicep, hugging it to look closer. Chan sucked in his breath, knowing that if he was in a cartoon right now, his brown head of hair would be sticking up in all places as a silhouette of his heart pumped dramatically out of his chest.

It was ironic, as most of your friends would say; it was ironic how you two hugged often but got shy whenever your hands would simpy graze, it was ironic how you two were so affectionate yet were so resistant, and it was very ironic that your ‘hangouts’ weren’t dates at this point.

He watched as you pointed at his face from top to bottom, questioning,

“You’re not even facing the camera in most of these! Stop looking at me and look at the lens next time. Do you want to retake these?”

Your question wasn’t too hard, but you didn’t understand why Chan looked at you with such solemn eyes, his eyebrows knitted together as if he was frustrated. But the look was soon replaced with one that held adoration, but that only increased your confusion.

“I mean.. we don’t have to retake these, Chan. What do you want to do?”

“If you were my girlfriend, I’d probably never stop staring at you.”

He didn’t know why he said that. Not a bone in his body was willing to let that out but his mind decided to play a little game of “thinking out loud”. The impulsivity of the statement made the two of your freeze in front of the photo booth.

But there was something that the both of you knew, something that neither of you wanted to admit. You had been friends for too long, had been too close for too long, but what was different now?

Why, after more than ten years of being best friends, was now the best time for you two to be together?

But something resided within you, and in Chan as well. This was to atone for all the pain you two had experienced without one another. You and Chan always wondered why you’ve always loved, but never been in love truly. All this time, the person that was it from the start was right in front of your faces, but pent up denial never allowed it to happen.

Until now.

Somewhere, somehow, this was the universe’s way of telling you that today was that day. You woke up late, wore his sweater, and Chan had slipped up with his thoughts aloud. It made sense.

So, you took a small step forward.

It felt as if the gravity between your feet and floor was much heavier than before, especially watching Chan’s jaw clench out of nervousness, but you knew it was just you mustering up a ton of courage to finally ask,

“Who’s stopping you from asking?”

#stray kids #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #stray kids bang chan #skz bang chan #bang chan #bang chan fluff #christopher bang #bang chan x reader #bang chan x fem reader #bang chan x reader fluff #chan x reader fluff #chan x reader #chris bang fluff

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chironshorseass · 3 years

Note

hello yes i’m OBSESSED with your writing so if you’re still taking prompts maybe “please look at me” bc i also have an unhealthy relationship with pre-tlo percabeth angst and live for pining percy

SYD U GAVE ME THIS AND I JUST HAD TO PUT ALL MY PROMPTS ASIDE!!! because how could i not!!!

for what i wrote, i kind of mention this clarisse one-shot.

anyway enjoy <3, since I sort of went crazy with percy being powerful :) like i always do :) and of course, pre-tlo percabeth :)

read on ao3

The waves had grown restless these past few days. Violent, brutal. The night was quiet, the moon hidden beneath darkened clouds, drenching the camp in heavy ink. Percy knew many demigods proclaimed it as the quiet before the storm. They couldn’t have been more wrong.

All he heard was noise.

He’d been like this—unsteady, overwhelmed—for some time, now. Everywhere he went, he felt like a ship sailing into giant waves, water crashing against his deck, threatening to bring him under.

Grover would’ve understood, maybe. But Grover, like the moon, had vanished. That only left a few of his other friends—and of course—Annabeth.

Percy couldn’t avoid her gaze, no matter how much he wanted to. She was always there, watching. Maybe she awaited the day when he’d sink to the power of those waves that plagued the beach, that plagued him. Maybe she anticipated with bated breath on the day when he’d turn sixteen and he’d have to make one decision that would change everything.

Nevertheless, she’d drift away from him. Then come back, again and again.

It drove him crazy, how much their relationship had changed with the times and circumstances. Only now, Annabeth wasn’t what bothered him.

His gut was.

It tightened and loosened, the same way the currents flowed to the rhythm of his rushing blood. He could hear that now, too.

His blood. The sea. The clashes against rock.

Everything was beating to a powerful symphony of drums.

But worst of all was his gut.

Something had gone terribly wrong.

Percy knew there was a war. He had nightmares about it, in fact. Nightmares leading to frantic waking-ups from the feeling of lava burning into his skin. But he hadn’t sensed the war’s presence so strongly in all his three years of attending camp as he did now—and he felt it, because the source of conflict had to do with the sea.

The shadows of cabin three clung to his skin in a comfortable blanket, but he couldn’t ignore this dread. It had trickled patiently into his system for a week now, culminating to this exact moment. He couldn’t sit still. He had to leave. Now.

Not long after stumbling outside while shoving his armor on did he hear the conch horn ringing as a warning. The lookouts had seen something. His legs moved faster.

Doors of other cabins began to smash open, and with it came the spilling of panicked campers. He was already way ahead of them, though.

“To the beach!” someone cried.

Percy arrived just in time to see Chiron assemble with Michael Yew and Austin Lake. The sons of Apollo. They’d apparently been the ones on night duty. The centaur saw Percy before the others made out his heavy footfalls.

“Percy,” Chiron said. “Thank the gods you’re here.”

“There’s something,” he gasped, doubling over once he’d reached them. “There’s something out there,” he finally managed to say, gulping mouthfuls of air. “The sea.”

They already knew, however. The conchorns were signal enough. But what was more obvious was the glimpse of the giant tail, jutting out of the water like a spear cutting through flesh.

The breath he’d managed to find from his mad dash was stolen away at the sight of the monster.

“Yeah,” Austin said, swallowing. “There’s something out there, alright.”

Chiron eyed Percy warily. “My boy. We are dealing here with something I fear that you are only capable of stopping.”

“Yeah, well...it looks like a pretty big fish. I—”

A howl punctured the atmosphere—probably the same sea monster he’d seen earlier. Percy gasped, feeling a stabbing jolt in his stomach. He didn’t know why this sudden change of the sea was affecting him so, but he had to stay strong. So he stood up straight and concentrated on his breathing.

“Are you alright?” Austin asked, studying him.

Percy looked at Chiron, who met his eyes as well. You have to be, his teacher seemed to say.

“I...I think so.”

Michael chose the moment to turn his back on the sea, blowing the conchorn once more. He shouted at the incoming campers, “Greek fire! We need Greek fire!”

The rest of the multitude showed up right away, Hephaestus kids priming canons while others exchanged weaponry. Through all of it, Percy’s gut became a pressure cooker, a fist closing around glass, about to break. He cried out in agony just as a tidal wave shook the world. Falling to his knees, his arms encircled his middle, muffling that pain. He wanted nothing but to make it stop.

He vaguely heard a sound of surprise, coming from someone nearby, then the rush of hands holding onto his shoulders. They helped somewhat, a comfort to the madness.

The hands were warm and soothing. The voice of the person became clearer. He knew that voice. He knew those hands.

Annabeth appeared in his vision, all worry lines and pinched eyebrows. She said something to him again, but the words might’ve been ghosts; the stampeding blood behind his ears was too thunderous to make out anything else.

He closed his eyes and concentrated like he had earlier.

Sharp as a blade, his senses switched to the outside world.

“Are—are you okay?” Annabeth was saying. “You doubled over, and I…”

“No.” He opened his eyes to meet hers. They matched the storm that raged across the sea. “I—I’m not okay. I need to stop this, I need—”

“We were just discussing strategy,” she said. He was glad for the distraction she’d offered. “The Scolopendra isn’t just any ordinary sea monster.”

“The Scolo what?”

She helped him stand up, steadying him with her arms.

“The Scolopendra,” she repeated. “A child of Keto. It’s one of the biggest sea monsters in existence, and it won’t leave the camp border.”

“No shit.”

Annabeth ignored him, glancing backwards at where the monster had last been seen. “There’s no telling what it can do. There’s barely any recordings of it.” She swiveled back to him. “Chiron says that it can control the tide. It might be capable of drowning the camp if we don’t kill it.”

“I won’t let that happen.”

“I told Chiron that we needed to try my strategy first. As in, bombing it with Greek fire before we go with the last approach.”

“And what would that last approach be?”

He had some idea, but before Annabeth could speak, the creature shot out of the water, faster than lightning. He only caught a glimpse of the crayfish-like tail and rows of webbed feet before it disappeared again.

“That looks like a giant shrimp,” he declared.

A giant shrimp that was probably capable of crushing a decently-sized trireme. Shrimpzilla, he was about to call it, as a way to lighten the mood. But he thought better of it, once he saw the hard line of Annabeth’s lips as she watched the campers rev up the Greek fire.

The Scolopendra dared to peek out of the waves for the third time, giving the chance for Beckendorf to yell out an order. Instantly, canyons discharged the green substance directly towards the monster.

It roared defiantly, maybe in pain, maybe in anger. No one was sure, because as soon as the night sky lit up with green flames, the Scolopendra crashed against the water like a wrecking ball. For a moment, all was silent.

No one dared breathe.

Annabeth squeezed Percy’s shoulder. She looked hopeful, as if relieved that she didn’t have to go with the second plan.

Chiron’s tail twitched. Beckendorf held out a hand, urging the campers to wait. Some stood anticipatedly, swords ready. He saw Clarisse in the front line, her electric spear aimed at the sea and crackling with energy.

Percy sensed what was about to happen next before he heard it.

“Annabeth,” he said frantically. “Annabeth, we have to go. Now.”

“What? But—”

“NOW!”

He’d already separated himself from her, yelling at the rest of the campers to leave. They didn’t have the chance; milliseconds later, the Scolopendra appeared. It bellowed with the power of a thousand hurricanes. Many campers covered their ears.

To everyone’s horror, it had closed in on the shore, its back legs likely reaching the sand floor as it rose to its full, terrifying height. Lightning crackled, and with it, came another roar.

“No,” he muttered. “No, everyone get out!”

Too late. The monster had already spit out a million gallons’ worth of salt water.

Instinctively, Percy let out a yell and threw his hands out.

The water halted in midair, rippling like a broken mirror. It was as if time had slowed down, as if Kronos himself had been the one to interfere. But Kronos wasn’t interfering. It was all Percy—with nothing but his willpower. A bead of sweat rolled down from his temple.

Annabeth reached him just as he cried out and threw the water back to the sea with everything he had, forcing the giant shrimp to hide as well.

He caught his breath while Annabeth looked back and forth. From him to the sea, from the sea to him.

She shook her head at no one in particular. “The plan didn’t work.”

“No shit.”

Then she gazed at him again. “Thank you for doing that, Perce.”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “No problem.”

“About the second plan...”

“I have to kill it, don’t I?”

“I...maybe. But we can help—”

“It isn’t a maybe. It is a certainty,” a voice said, strong and firm.

They both turned around.

“Chiron,” Annabeth said. “How can he possibly—”

“He’s the only one capable,” the horseman said. “You know that better than most.”

Her eyes flicked to Percy. Memories flashed through his mind. A quick, burning kiss. A promise. Then, the way fire engulfed him. The call of the sea. An explosion, strong enough to wake one of the most dangerous monsters of all.

When the bombard was over, he understood. He had to face this monster alone, like he had with the telkhines.

“Okay,” he finally said.

“Okay, what?”

Chiron nodded at him, ignoring Annabeth’s question. Without glancing back, he retreated to where the rest of the demigods were watching by the sand dunes as a precaution.

“I need to face him alone,” Percy told her, once Chiron was gone.

“No! Percy, that thing is bigger than—”

“I’m the only one that can’t drown, Annabeth!” He grasped her shoulders so that she was looking directly at him. “If anyone can do it, it’s me.”

“Don’t think I can’t see what’s going on with you,” she said, voice bitter and rough. “You’re distant, like, like the ocean is—”

“We’re both growing distant, ‘Beth. That’s not the problem right now.”

She pushed his hands away. “And that’s not what I’m talking about, and you fucking know that!”

Before he could reply, the monster's call came again. A reminder that this night wasn’t over.

“Please. Just trust me on this, Annabeth. I have to try. It’s our last option. You said so yourself: it may be capable of drowning the entire camp.”

She said nothing, not even sparing him a glance.

“And—and I don’t know why I’m like this! Maybe it’s because I can feel the ocean getting agitated, or because the war is getting worse, or—”

He realized it, then. Annabeth's tears. They were silent rivers, flowing gently down her cheeks and into her mouth. Flowing down to where everything ended up, to the sea.

“Hey,” he said, approaching her slowly. He took both of her hands in his, but she repelled away from his touch. “Please, ‘Beth.”

This time, he cupped her damp cheek, moving it in his direction. “Please look at me.”

And when she finally obliged, her gaze was fractured with glistening tears, like diamonds.

“I can’t lose you again,” she whispered.

Percy had yearned for too long; he let go of that rope tugging him in the opposite direction and instead let Annabeth in. They melted into each other, both shamelessly giving away the little warmth they preserved. It was the kind of hug that felt like a lifeline, the kind that made them both sway like the tide.

“I missed you,” he mumbled into her curls.

She held him tighter. “I missed you, too.”

“But I have to fight this one myself.”

Annabeth pulled away slightly—and when he saw the look on her face—he knew that she knew.

“HEY, SHRIMPZILLA!”

The Scolopendra reared its head, even uglier up close. Its nostrils flared with hairs, beady eyes staring down at him. When he charged, the monster bellowed and threw itself in the water, sending sprays taller than a house.

But none of it touched Percy.

He didn’t stop running, a plan in mind. Meanwhile, the sea churned around him in one giant mass of power, but it parted with each step he took, forming a trail of now exposed ocean floor. Water collided with the sky, flying with the salt in the air.

Hello, friend, it seemed to say. Or rather, hum. The sea was a song, and he was just there to dance to its melody.

The Scolopendra had disappeared again.

He didn’t look back, though he knew the entire camp was there, watching—maybe in awe, but he didn’t care enough to find out. He kept walking, alone, surrounded by a pool of green and blue. Was this how Moses felt, In those stories he’d heard? Bricks of ocean water, flinging up into the sky, just so that Percy could pass. The feeling distracted him from the objective.

That’s what he’d argue later, because Percy can’t explain how the monster managed to sneak up to him that easily.

The pool of green seemed endless. There was a moment where nothing moved, not even the water. But then something did tug him violently, up, up into the sky.

For a second, he couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t scream out, the breath stolen from his lungs and the icy rush of air when flung into the sky nauseating. The only feeling he knew was of the Scolopendra and its death grip on his entire body.

With each second, the roiling waters grew farther and farther away. The Scolopendra’s growl, however, couldn’t have sounded closer. Sharp claws sank into his chest and arms. If he didn’t react now, he’d be eaten before the next flash of lightning struck the sea.

Somehow, he managed to uncap Riptide.

And with a scream, he stabbed, as hard as he could.

“Hey. Want company?” A soft voice said.

He craned his neck around.

Annabeth subconsciously made the world easier to look at. Especially now, as she stood behind him in the pier with the last vestiges of harsh sun striking her back. Her stance was stiff, hesitant. He understood why.

So instead his eyes bored into his lap. He shrugged.

That was a sign enough for her. She crouched next to him, pulling her legs under herself and then flinging them out to where the wooden planks ended and the open air began, toes nearly kissing the placid lake.

She sat next to him, quiet as the wind. It took a few seconds or minutes or hours before she decided to speak.

“I’m sorry.”

From his peripheral vision, he could tell that she’d been studying him instead of watching the reflection of herons flying above the water. Something he’d thought she’d been doing. Apparently not.

It also took him seconds or minutes or hours before he could respond.

“What for?”

She exhaled, “Letting you go alone. Being a part of the campers who…”

She didn’t finish that sentence. He knew why.

Being a part of the campers who abandoned you alone after what you did.

“S’okay. I get it.”

A lie. He didn’t get it.

“Doesn’t make it right.”

He stared at his hands. “Guess not.”

The details of the fight were yet to go away. The memories were still fresh—like his mother’s batch of cookies whenever he came home from camp. Teeth were ever-present in his mind. And those webbed hands. Those twisted sounds as a monster choked on its own blood.

Afterward, everyone had taken a step back. Even Annabeth and Chiron seemed to contemplate him as though he were doomed. Maybe he was.

“I wish Grover were here.”

“Yeah,” Annabeth sighed. She kicked her leg up, swatting at some mosquitos. “Me too.”

“He’d pull our shit together, fix everything.” He found himself sounding wistful, longing for a missing piece of himself all of a sudden.

She didn’t reply to that. They both missed their best friend. Now, more than ever. Percy tried to not dwell too much on the fact that Grover hadn’t responded to his Iris Messages or to his calls from their shared empathy link.

“I’m sorry.”

“You already said that.”

“No, Percy. I’m serious.”

“I know.”

“Just look at me.”

He did the opposite, gazing at the trees to his left. They were a deep, mystical green. The colors looked like the ocean, where he’d displayed his powers for everyone to see. Worst mistake of his life. He realized that tears had begun to form in his eyes; he quickly blinked them away.

“Percy,” Annabeth insisted.

Her tone wasn’t hash or demanding—but rather, a light pink sky. A hand brushing his, sweet and tender. He noticed that it wasn’t just his imagination; glancing down, he found her fingers ghosting against his knuckles.

“Please look at me.”

This was eerily familiar. It hit him, then, that he’d said those exact words when she’d panicked about him going alone to fight the Scolopendra.

Hesitantly, his eyes focused on her face. Her freckles were there, golden like the rest of her. Only now, her eyes were rimmed with tears.

Something changed inside them both. She stared at him, he stared at her. Her face contorted, and the both broke down, crumbling like ruins with the slightest gust.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, clinging to his shirt.

“Me too,” he murmured back.

He held unto her as if she were a life force, breathing in her lemony scent. Tears were exchanged, mingling in the other’s hair. They held each other, an embrace that didn’t deserve to end. It only made him cry harder, while Annabeth held him closer.

“Why are you sorry?”

He couldn’t say it out loud.

I’m sorry for why we’re like this. I’m sorry for scaring you. I’m sorry for leaving.

Instead, he pulled away. He studied her, every single feature, from those grey eyes and that upturned nose to those curls that no longer appeared to look like a princess.’ They were just Annabeth’s.

“I scared you,” he said.

His arms loosened around her, just now realizing how long they’d hugged, but their hands stayed interlocked—like some sort of middle ground.

She regarded him, eyebrows furrowed. “I can’t ever be scared of you,” she said matter-of-factly. “You’re my best friend, Perce.”

He looked away. “Everyone else was.”

“I should have gone to you after—I just...I thought you were angry at me.”

Their hands separated. “Why would I be angry at you?”

“Because I let you handle all of it alone. The monster, the campers—”

“‘Beth.” He took her hands again, cupping them with his. “I couldn’t ever be angry at you.”

“That’s not true,” she said wryly.

An observation, not an accusation. Still, that didn’t make it hurt any less. He recalled the shouting, the fights. The only thing they looked for in those moments was to hurt the other, twist and pull at any chink in the armor they could find.

She winced, remembering that, too. “Sorry.”

His mouth twitched. “You’ve said ‘sorry’ too many times. It’s getting repetitive.”

She hit his shoulder playfully. “Well, I mean it.”

He didn’t retort anything back. They found peace in this lake, once again gazing at the horizon.

“It’s not true what you said, either,” he said, his mind lingering on what she’d told him earlier. “You’re scared, as well.”

The sound of the incoming crickets carried on in Annabeth’s hesitation.

That is, until she said, “I am. Scared. I’m scared.” He glanced over. She was staring in his direction, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes. She cleared her throat. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Neither did I.”

She laughed, breathless. “See that’s what scares me. What else can you do? Honestly?”

He shrugged, turning away from her.

“How’d you do that, anyway?”

“I defeated it, didn’t I?” It was better to deflect than to answer her question.

Defeating the monster should’ve been what mattered, anyway.

“Percy.”

“Annabeth,” he said, in the same condescending tone.

“All I’m saying is that you could hurt yourself. You don’t know what you’re capable of. And then when your birthday happens—”

“You think I’m going to destroy Olympus or something?” He shook his head. “I should’ve known that you’d side with the gods on that, too. You think that they should kill me?”

“What? Percy, I’d never—”

He whirled, facing her, and finally let go of all those pent-up thoughts that just like the sea, wouldn’t leave him alone.

“Just admit it, Annabeth! Admit that it freaked you out that I blood bended or whatever the fuck Chiron called it! Admit, that it freaked you out how I killed that monster! That I’m fucking cursed!”

“Percy Jackson, you are not—”

“Yes, I am. Why would my dad give me powers like that? Huh? Just say it with me: you’re scared—of me.”

Her eyes were red, face hard as stone. Just like her voice when she said, “Look. I just wanted to help. But if you want to sit in your self pity, then go for it! You clearly don’t need me.”

She made no move to leave, however.

Their eyes held, until the anger from both of them melted. He huffed out a breath, shoulders hunching. “We can’t ever stop fighting, can we?”

She sighed.

“Guess not.”

“I won’t do that again.”

She lifted her chin. “Why?”

“Like you said. Scared you.”

That made her purse her lips.

“You’re not cursed, Percy. You know that, right?”

She reached for his hand. It was becoming a strange routine. Finding comfort in hand holding and then dismantling it as if it never happened.

“You’re mostly right all the time, so.” He squeezed her hand. “I s’pose I’m not cursed, then.”

“I’m right most of the time?” she said, eyes twinkling.

“Okay, fine,” he conceded. “You’re right only sometimes.”

She opened her mouth in mock-offense. “Percy Jackson—”

He cut her off with his laugh, a laugh that fit with the music of the crickets. She rolled her eyes, something that he’d missed achingly, now that he saw her do it for the first time in what seemed like forever.

Scooting closer, she nudged him. “I could help you. Alongside Clarisse.”

His eyes widened. “You knew about that?”

“She’s my friend, too.”

“Of course she is,” he muttered.

Him and Clarisse...they might’ve had a rocky relationship when he’d first arrived at camp, but now, he didn’t know what he’d do without her help—without her friendship. They both understood the other in a bizzare, not very common way. She’d helped him hone in his powers, but it had yet to be something he’d wanted to admit to Annabeth. To everyone else, for that matter.

“I get why you didn’t want to tell me,” she said. “But...I do want to help. You’re my best friend, and, and I also want to spend time with you. If...that’s alright.”

“It’s alright by me.”

Annabeth gave him a look.

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” He tried for a smile. “I guess you could come along, then.”

His grin was shared with her, though her eyes were serious. “You’ll see. We’ll figure out your powers. What you can do, why you can do it, why the sea is affecting you…”

“All of it?”

She nodded. “All of it.”

They left it at that, though what they didn’t leave was the canoe pier. Not until the sun hid under the trees, spilling its ink of reds and oranges across the horizon.

The golden of the sun was replaced by the silver of the moon for the night, then it rose again for the day.

And in between, the waves lapped against the shore, constant and content. The ocean had calmed. For now.

#percy jackson #pjo fic #percabeth #percabeth fic #powerful percy jackson #look mom i can write #pre tlo #percy jackon and the olympians #chb #also don't judge i just finished this #i pormised syd i'd post it today and i did!!#pogo🤸‍♀️

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m88n · 3 years

Text

[2.12 am]

You’re held close by Jaehyun on his king-sized bed, a scene often taking place during one of your meets. At first, his tendency to be a little touchier than you’d prefer in a friends with benefits setting put you off, but you’ve grown quite used to it. He was the one initiating this relationship, as you both knew each other through a university club, and he hit you up through a mutual friend after seeing how you’ve physically changed in the past few years. Although he keeps his interactions with you pretty shallow, his lingering touches and gazes sometimes would say otherwise. During your first nightly meet with each other, despite him only mostly saying raunchy things to you, as you part, he held an indecipherable gaze towards your eyes, before stealing a kiss from you. That took you off guard, as you would not expect to kiss a friends with benefits outside of the vicinity of the bedroom.

During the next several times you’ve met each other, he made it a point to hold conversations with you before actually getting down to business. You asked him the first time—what was the point of making conversation? He just lightly dismissed it, saying that he’d at least want to get to know you before doing it with you. Again, you thought that was strange, but you went along with it. During one of your pillow talks, you wanted to know if he was clean (perhaps you both could do it raw), so you asked him how many sexual partners he has at that moment. He just smiled, shooting his all-too familiar dimples at you, saying that he’s not sleeping with anyone right now other than you. You decided that he was lying, because you’ve heard from several mutual friends that Jaehyun’s known as a player among other girls, breaking hearts left and right, always trying to find the next one to sleep with. Your friends warned you not to get too caught up with him, but you dismissed their worries easily, knowing that you don’t easily get attached.

At the present moment, both of you find yourselves watching Youtube videos on your phone, Jaehyun holding it above your still unclothed bodies sprawled on top of his bed. You still feel like there are parts of Jaehyun that you can’t seem to make out, but you decide that he is definitely one fun guy to just hang out with.

“I find it cool that we have the same favorite classical piece. Clair de lune. It’s obvious though,” He says nonchalantly, before turning his head to you. “Always on the lookout for Debussy, am I right?”

You chortle at his horrible joke, laughing heartily until you’re gasping for breath. It might be bad, but it really is funny to you. You’re probably just easily amused. Either way Jaehyun’s got you in stitches. He always does. Jaehyun looks at you for a second, before he laughs with you, eyes turning into beautiful crescents as his dimples accentuate his features in the most charming way. God, you get why all these girls would go so far for this guy. He’s literally a vision.

Suddenly your phone lets out a small ping! and both your attentions are redirected to your phone, a row of notifications popping up on the top of the screen.

Jaemin (2.20 am): wyd? ;) Jaemin (2.20 am): thinking abt u. miss u on my bed Jaemin (2.21 am): still coming over tmr night?

“Oop, sorry bout that, hand me my—”

“What--What was that?” Jaehyun asks, gaze slowly shifting towards you.

“Na Jaemin asking me for a bootycall—”

“Yeah, I could see that,” He responds, jaw tensing up. “You’re seeing him?”

You feel alarmed by the sudden change in Jaehyun’s attitude, confusion filling you up yet again.

“Yeah, why?” You ask simply, trying to snatch your phone from Jaehyun’s hand, him pulling away quicker.

Jaehyun holds his gaze upon you, eyebrows knitted together, knuckles turning white.

No.... it couldn’t be. Could it..?

“Jae…. Do you not like me… Seeing Jaemin..?” You ask gently.

You swear you could see him flinch ever so slightly at the sound of Jaemin’s name. He keeps quiet, yet you could feel his breath start to quicken, eyes narrowing at you.

“Jaehyun,” You say.

He looks away, gnawing on his lip.

“Jaehyun.” You say, firmly this time, earning his attention. “What are you thinking? You gotta tell me. Otherwise I won’t get it,”

“...You can do whatever you want.” He answers, looking away.

“What do you want?” You ask him.

“…”

“Okay, I’ll try to make this simpler. What do you feel?” You ask him slowly, as if speaking to a 5-year-old child.

“…Not the best,” He finally responds frankly, “I don’t think I like it.”

“There we go, wasn’t that hard, was it?” You say sarcastically, starting to feel annoyed with the unwelcome situation you’ve been handed. “You gotta be honest with me, Jae, that was the deal, we gotta be super clear about the conditions and boundaries—”

“Do you like him?” He asks suddenly.

You sit there, eyes wide, not expecting at all that he was going to ask such a question. You try to make sense of the situation, blinking your eyes rapidly while your mouth hangs ajar as you try to concoct an answer—any answer—but nothing comes out.

You shake your head to snap yourself out of it, because it really doesn’t even matter if you do, or do not. This shouldn’t be about Jaemin.

“Jae—I don’t—I don’t know, why are you asking me that? It’s not even relevant to whatever’s going on with this right now,” You say, gesturing between you both.

“But it is,” He says, raising his voice, as he looks at you straight in the eyes.

You pause to gather yourself at this turn of events.

“What, do you like me or something?” You finally ask bluntly out of utter exasperation.

With that question, his gaze softens and he lets out an exhale, before trying to calm himself down.

“…Jaehyun, what do you want with me?” You ask as you lean closer to him.

He looks down at his hands blanketed by the white duvet, as he seemingly tries to gather his thoughts before he answers.

“..I—” He starts. “…What do you want with… Jaemin? What… What does he want with you?”

You frown almost instantly, noticing him deflect the question. But you decide to just go with his flow, trying to answer his questions as best as you could.

“I don’t know, Jae, I think he’s cute, and I quite like being around him,” You answer, “He did tell me he’s liked me ever since he saw me in our shared anthropology class during the last year of our bachelors, I mean, that really was ages ago…. I don’t know, man, I’m just hanging with him, see where that goes,”

“… So… You’re going to keep hanging with him while you… Hang with me?”

You look at him disappointedly.

“Jae. It’s your turn to answer. What do you want from me?” You ask firmly. “…Do you like me?”

He keeps quiet.

“Do you want to be with me?”

He looks at you with a gaze too vague to figure.

“..Is it bad that I want you to stop hanging out with Jaemin?” He finally asks.

“What, do you want to be exclusive with me? ..Make it official or something like that?” You ask bluntly out of frustration, your question starting to scare even yourself.

He grimaces at your question, before looking away from you.

“I… I don’t—”

“Then it wouldn’t be fair for me, wouldn’t it?” You ask him with a deadpanned face.

With that, you feel like you’ve had enough. You let out a last sigh, before grabbing your phone and quickly making your way towards your clothes on the hardwood floor, quickly wearing them as you usually would after your hookups with him. Jaehyun follows your movements with widened eyes, frozen in place, mouth hanging ajar.

You move to take your handbag sitting on the bedside table, before Jaehyun grabs your arm, stopping you mid-movement.

“y/n. Do you really feel nothing with me?” He asks you, face desperate.

“Do you?” You ask, furiously eyeing him down due to his entire ambiguity.

“I feel like—I feel like you just get me,” He sputters, “I’ve never had anyone understand me that much, y/n, you don’t need to leave—”

“So you want me here just because I get you? And I’m not even allowed to do whatever I want because of… Whatever this is?” You ask.

“I—I don’t know y/n, just give me time,” He says hastily, still gripping your arm despite your attempts to shake him off, “Just—just stop hanging out with Jaemin for a little, let me figure this out—”

You scoff at his remark. “For what?” You ask, “What’s in it for me?”

He gulps, eyes quivering wildly as he tries to search for an answer.

“For--For me.” He finally says.

You shake your arm off of his grip, before grabbing your purse.

“Jaehyun baby,” You say, “I really don’t have the time to teach a man to be mine.”

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bruhlsbees · 3 years

Text

sweet disposition: 1/? || femaleprofessor!reader x modern!alex kerner

hi bestie hehe i’d like to request a little series for you, sub! a little jealous modern alex keener (of age) x professor! f reader (late 20’s) - shes an english romantic lit professor & her “love interest” is a film professor who is one of alex’s shared teacher. alex has a little crush on her, and knows the film teacher is after her. super fluffy, smut maybe??? u decide baby, im just so excited eeeeek!!!

summary: alex kerner is a senior film student and develops a crush for his friend, denis, english professor

pairing: modern!alex kerner and professor!reader

warnings: age gap (alex is 22 and reader is 32), wet dream, sweet sweet pathetic boy, nsfw, 18+, minors dni

word count: 4,387

a/n: thank you for the request @gotmadison ily sweet gal!! this will be a short fic series i write and will post probably throughout the coming weekend! :) please enjoy and if you have any requests or asks please send them in!!!

For Alex Kerner, a senior film student, nothing bored him more than the first day of a new unit. He knew what to expect - twenty plus slides about some dead, or borderline dead, director while connecting their life to the style of films they did and how it related to whatever political controversy was going down at the time. Alex knew that there was a reason for going into so much history to better understand the meaning of the films, but jesus did it have to drag for so long?

The auditorium that Alex’s class was held in was larger, although the class was rather small. There were maybe, at most, thirty students in his class, including him, which felt empty as the auditorium they were in was meant to hold almost double that. Alex didn’t mind though, of all the rows, he was the only one in the back, taking the middle seat - of course, the best view to see a film. He recognized a lot of the faces in his class, as it was a senior level class, but he didn’t bother to converse with many.

It wasn’t that he was shy, not overly at least, he just didn’t care to make friends. It was an afternoon class, he was just getting out of work to rush to his class, and far too exhausted to try and fake being friendly…hence him sitting in the back, all alone.

The ‘Authorship in Cinema’ course he was currently in was held twice a week - both two hours long. The first class of the week was held for lectures and the second class was held for the film screening. The university was just getting back from winter break, continuing into the last half of the semester. In Alex’s class they had finished their unit on Roman Polanski before the break and they came into the next covering Krzysztof Kieślowski. Alex was thrilled to say the least about not having to listen to his film professor rave on Polanski. Even after discussing Polanski’s case, his professor still seemed to idolize the man.

Alex was not fond of his film professor. He was a younger professor, maybe in his late thirties, early forties, and he seemed to praise the worst directors he could find. His name was Jaxon Thorne and was the staple image of a douche. He always wore faded jeans that were tight in the crotch, scuffed up sneakers that he always tried to pass as being cool, and a sweater with a scarf - even though they were inside. He truly didn’t get how girls liked the man. Alex wouldn’t lie though, some of his opinions were interesting, but the guy loved to hear himself talk, that much was obvious.

They weren’t even at the tenth slide yet when Alex felt himself beginning to doze off. Work had been busy today, fixing satellites and dealing with prissy wives and their drunk husbands. He was almost late getting to class with all the traffic that was on the highway. The last thing he wanted to do was attend class. It took everything in him not to put his head down and go to sleep right there. He had done it before, and that was a mistake he would never make again. Waking up to everyone staring and snickering while the teacher was hovering over you meant for a lasting effect.

But Alex just couldn’t take it, he was so bored with Kieślowski’s early work. The documentaries of everyday lives for city dwellers, workers, and soldiers could not keep his attention even if he wasn’t tired. He sunk down into his seat, crossing his arms over his chest, before craning his head to the side on his shoulder. His blinking became slow, desperately trying to stay awake and pay attention, but his eyes grew heavy, and before he knew it, his mouth was gaped open, drool slipping out of the corner of his lips.

He didn’t know how long he had dozed off for, but when he woke up he heard the projector screen zip up and the lights click on. Jumping slightly, Alex sat back up, feeling the stickiness of his drool on his face. With a groan, he wiped his face with the sleeve of his jean jacket before beginning to pack his things up into his bag.

“On Wednesday we will dive into his documentary, Workers, and discuss the censorship aspect of it. Come prepared to watch the screening and discuss afterwards. If anyone has any questions or comments, I’ll be staying after for a few minutes.”

Rolling his eyes, Alex pushed himself out of his chair, swinging his bag over his shoulder before rushing out the back door at the top of the auditorium. He couldn’t have gotten out of there fast enough to avoid his teacher from going off on an ‘intellectual conversation’ on their new unit. Barf.

Alex was happy though to finally be out of class and to enjoy his hour and a half break before his next class. He knew he should have been finalizing what project he wanted to submit for critique in his senior portfolio, but he needed something to wake him up.

As he turned the hallway, going to leave the building, he stopped by the vending machine and pulled out a crinkled bill from his pocket, pushing it into the machine before pressing the buttons to get a bottle of Coke. To his luck, however, the machine stalled, the bottle retriever getting stuck in front of the row and producing an obnoxious ‘whirring’ noise.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me!” Gripping the side of the vending machine, Alex shook the machine roughly, rocking the broken vending machine back and forth until setting it back, sending a punch to the front of it.

“Woah, woah! Jesus man what did that vending machine do to you?”

Turning his head, Alex’s glare softened at the sight of his friend, Denis, approaching him. Denis, with his books still in his hands, tucked them under his arm as he stood in front of the machine, watching as the machine stalled with Alex’s bottle of Coke.

“The stupid thing got stuck! Is it too much to ask for a bottle of co-”

Before he could finish his sentence, the machine began to work again, grabbing the bottle and dispensing it below. Staring blankly at the bottom, his lips pulled into a tight line, Alex could only feel the embarrassment settling in - and it didn’t help to hear Denis laugh at how ridiculous he reacted.

“Oh my god, dude, you seriously need to take it easy. Did work kill you that bad?” Denis asked, watching as Alex bent down to pull out the bottle, standing back up as he began unscrewing the cap, guzzling the pop down.

Nodding his head, Alex screwed the cap back on before tucking the bottle in his bag, hiccuping at the carbonation before sighing, “Yeah, and it doesn’t help that I gotta go to Professor Dick’s class right after.”

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Denis nodded, listening to Alex as he vented, “Yeah, Thorne’s a real piece of work. But hey! Only gotta deal with him for another semester after this. Who knows, maybe he will knock a student up and ditch down?”

The fantasy would have been nice to come true, but Alex knew that it would stay just that - a fantasy. Thorne was a questionable guy, with interesting ideas and made borderline inappropriate comments towards the female students in all his classes…but that was just it, he could charm anyone he wanted, and that’s how he stayed around.

“Yeah, maybe when dogs walk on two legs…” Alex mumbled, pressing his knuckles to his eyes and rubbing the sleep out of them, a yawn escaping his lips.

As he dropped his hands down to his side, he felt Denis nudge him in the arm, groaning at the contact as he was too tired to have any contact, “You got class at seven right?”

Nodding, Alex blinked, a tired smile on his face as he smacked his lips, “Yeah…seven to nine, best time of day to have a senior portfolio workshop.”

Denis laughed at the sarcastic comment, mentioning that it could’ve been worse and be at seven in the morning than at night. Alex, however, couldn’t see how anything could be worse than an evening class after a long day of work.

“Listen, I got my ‘Romanticism in Literature’ class in a few…why don’t you come with me? My teacher’s pretty cool and I’m sure she won’t mind if you sit in. I’m in the back anyways so she probably won’t even realize. She’s got pretty bad vision I’ve realized. I think she said that her glasses don’t got the right prescription or somethin. She’s always runnin late and claims she never has time to put her contacts in.”

The detailed explanation of the professor’s vision made Alex laugh, shaking his head as Denis looked at him confused, cheeks red, “What? It’s what she’s told us! She’s always coming in late. I wouldn’t be surprised if she came in late this time around. She’s got office hours before class, so she probably gets held up with a student.”

“Sounds like you’re in love with her, is that right, Denny Boy? Someone’s gotta crush on the teacher? Ain’t that every high school kid’s fantasy? Get the hots for the teacher?”

Scoffing, Denis rolled his eyes at Alex’s teasing and shoved him in the arm, “No man, come on now, it ain’t like that. Look if you don’t wanna come I don’t care, but I gotta go before I’m late.”

Holding his hands up in defense, Alex trailed behind Denis, going back in the direction he originally came from, “Hey, hey, I was only kidding, don’t gotta get defensive. I’ll take along, hopefully I won’t fall asleep in this class. Why you even taking this class anyways?”

Following Denis into the class, the auditorium setup similar to the one he just came out of, except smaller, Alex sat beside Denis in the back row, watching as the class filled up, only a few seats not filled.

“I guess I gotta earn some more credits outside my degree, this was the only one that wasn’t completely filled up yet and it worked with my schedule. It ain’t too bad, she gives us a lot of free time to work.”

Watching as Denis set his bag down beside him, opening his textbook to where they left off the other day, Alex watched Denis prep for the class, the teacher not in sight. Alex figured that the teacher must have been running late, like Denis said she always did, but he couldn’t help but wonder how long it’d be before she even showed up.

Fifteen minutes after class was supposed to begin the front door ripped open, slamming shut seconds after while heels frantically clicked towards the desk in the front of class.

“Sorry I’m late! I got caught up with another professor. I hope you all enjoyed your winter breaks and are happy to be back. I know I’m thrilled to be back!”

The sweet voice caught Alex’s attention, his eyes pulling from his cell phone and to the front of the class where the professor had just walked in. He felt his mouth fall open slightly, catching it before Denis noticed his reaction.

He was expecting an old lady for Denis’ class, someone who was on the edge of death and smelled of cats. What he found, however, was someone the complete opposite. Younger, curvier, and the scent that filled the room when she entered was warm - like she just finished drinking a cup of coffee.

Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun, bangs hanging low over her eyes, covering the tops of her crooked frames. She couldn’t have been all that older than him, maybe mid-thirties at max. He didn’t notice what she was wearing below, but the shirt she wore clung to her so well, the outline of her fuller chest displayed with her necklace dipping into her cleavage.

‘Good God, Alex, get a hold of yourself.’

Alex watched the professor, noticing her speaking although his lusted thoughts deafened his ears. He assumed she was asking how the break went and if anyone did anything fun because a few people raised their hands, a kind smile on her face as she listened to her students.

“That’s great to hear, Polly! You’ll have to show me the photos you took sometime. I have never been to that side of the country before,” Her head shifted towards the other side of the room, looking up at the higher rows. “Did anyone else have anything to share about their break?”

Denis’ professor sat patiently and listened to everyone who wanted to share, giving everyone the opportunity to discuss their breaks before she opened up her laptop to get started with class. Alex watched as she picked up the remote and pointed it to the projector box, the screen coming down beside her with her computer screen displayed.

Her home screen featured what he assumed to be her and some friends. He recognized a few of the people in the photo as they were also professors at the university - what made Alex turn his nose, however, was right beside her - in all his douchebag glory, Jaxon Thorne. Before he could make a cohesive thought, the photo went away and a slideshow on Mary Shelley appeared…and maybe for the better.

“Okay everyone! As mentioned in the email, we are gonna be diving into Mary Shelley’s novel Frankenstein for this part of the semester,” She began, her warm smile still ignited, chuckling lightly as some of the students up front became uneasy in their seats, excited for the novel, “I’m glad to hear we have some fans. Now, I promised that I wouldn’t give you any reading over break, but because of that we will be reading quite a bit over the next few weeks.”

The slide shifted to the reading guide and what chapters were due when. Alex watched as some students scribbled the due dates down while others pulled out their cell phones, snapping a photo before stuffing their phones away.

“For Wednesday I would like you all to have read the preface and letters one through four. Come prepared to discuss your analyses of the text and any questions you may have. Of course, I’ll have my office hours open tomorrow and Wednesday before class, but if there are any questions, you can send me an email and I’ll try to get back with you in a timely manner.”

The rest of class seemed to lull by, Alex’s gaze fixed on the professor that continued to go over what the last half of the semester would look like, answering the occasional question, before finally it was time to pack up and go. Frowning, Alex shifted in his seat, looking at Denis who was packing things up in his bag.

“It’s over?” Alex asked, eyebrows furrowed, a pathetic frown on his face.

Looking up from his bag, Denis smiled, nodding, “Yeah man, it is. Why? You fall in love with Mary Shelley?” Standing up, Denis pushed his seat under the table and shrugged his shoulders, “I mean, if it works for your schedule and you’re interested, maybe go up and ask if you can enroll. I don’t know if you’ll be able to with it being so late in the semester, but it’s worth a shot,” Glancing down at his watch, Denis sighed, “Look, I gotta run, but let me know how it goes, okay?” Patting Alex’s back, Denis rushed up the stairs and out the back door, fleeing the auditorium to get to his next class on time.

Meanwhile, Alex kept seated, watching as the professor talked with some students who approached her desk after class, laughing and admiring the editions of Frankenstein that students presented. Was this how professors could be with their students? Actually caring and involved? It seemed like Alex had poor luck with his own professors - either they were old as a bat and didn’t know how to work the computer, or they were a presumptuous dick.

When the students began to flock out, already discussing how they were looking forward to Wednesday’s class, Alex finally stood up, pulling his bag over his shoulder and making his way down the auditorium steps. She hadn’t noticed him as he walked, writing something down in her planner. As he stood now in front of her, he cleared his throat awkwardly, gaining her attention as she looked up, squinting before taking her glasses off.

“Hello,” he began shyly, adjusting the strap of his bag, “I’m Alex. My friend, Denis, he’s in your class.”

At the mention of Denis, she smiled and nodded, “Yes! Denis, nice boy he is,” She adjusted her position in her seat, leaning back slightly, “I-I’m sorry, are you in my class? I don’t believe I’ve ever see-”

“No! I mean, no, no I’m not in your class. I have a free hour before my next class and Denis invited me to sit in for this one,” He rushed, cheeks red as he realized how abruptly he had interrupted her, “I’m sorry, um, yeah I just came down because I really enjoyed your lecture today. I was curious if there was any way I could maybe enroll? I know it’s late in the semester, but I did enjoy today.”

The cheeky smile faded into a sadder, smaller smile. She chewed on her bottom lip before leaning forward again, crossing her arms over chest, accentuating her cleavage that Alex desperately tried not to stare at.

“Oh, I’m sorry Alex, but I don’t think I can convince the department to let you in this late in the semester. I love your enthusiasm with the course and would love to have you in my class, but I don’t think I can make that happen.” Her smile dropped to a frown when she saw the visible disappointment in Alex’s face before bending over to open her bag, pulling out a copy of Frankenstein, handing it to Alex.

Looking down at the copy, Alex opened the cover, reading what he assumed to be her name in the cover, before flipping through the pages, a weak smile on his face, trying his best to not look so pathetic in front of her.

“How about this? I probably shouldn’t, but if you want to sit in on the days you’re free, you’re more than welcome to. I’ll forward you the reading guide so you can keep up with us, but you won’t earn any credit in this class. Is that okay?”

His frown turned into a grin, looking up from the book, Alex nodded, his cheeks pink as his toothy crooked grin spread across his face, “Yeah, yes. Thank you,” Tugging down the front of his striped blue shirt, he cleared his throat awkwardly, looking down at the book before back up at her, “Um, so when are your office hours? Just in case I have any questions?”

Letting out a faint ‘ah’, she opened her notebook and scribbled some notes down, tearing off the paper and handing it to Alex, “You’re more than welcome to shoot me an email though if you need help outside of my office hours. Or you can call my office number, sometimes I answer it.” She admitted, her own cheeks going pink at the confession.

Smiling, Alex looked down at the paper and made a mental note to remember all that she had given him.

My email,

My office number,

Office hours are M&W: 3-5:15 and T&R: 1-2

Class takes place on M&W from 5:30-6:30

The smile she left on the page made Alex’s stomach flutter. His thumb ran along the smiley face before he looked up, thanking her quietly for the note. She was sweet, almost too sweet for Alex to absorb, like he was in a sugar coma and begging for more.

“Of course, it was nice to meet you Alex. I’m looking forward to seeing you in class. I don’t mean to run off, but I’m to meet another professor here in a couple minutes and don’t need to be lectured on being late.”

When she stood up, Alex’s face went hot. The flowy flower blouse that showed more cleavage than he had seen on a professor before was tucked into a tight jean skirt, clinging to her hips in all the right places, a thick black belt holding it all together. If it weren’t for the fact that he was right in front of her, he probably would have started drooling.

Packing up her desk, she stuffed her things in her bag, throwing her sweater over her shoulder before throwing her bag around her, moving around the desk to stand beside it now, looking up at Alex. He noted how she was shorter, the heels helping her with height, and how good her legs looked in them. Clearing his throat, he shifted his bag around him to sit in front of his pants, attempting to hide any possible pop-up in his jeans.

“If you’re free tomorrow, stop by my office hours. I’ll even buy you a coffee if it’s too early for you. I know you college boys stay up far too late. I can only imagine what your mothers think.” She teased, shaking her head and she turned and began to head out of the room, hearing Alex keep tight on her trail.

Turning off the lights and letting him leave first, she shut the door behind her and stood beside Alex, motioning towards the English department office, “I’ll see you tomorrow, or Wednesday, my office is the last one on the right. I’ll be sure to leave my door open!”

Nodding, Alex smiled and waved goodbye as she waved back, rushing down the hall and weaving through the students to get into the office. Letting out a sigh, Alex leaned against the doorway, processing his first encounter with the professor, the boyish lust grin stuck on his face.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Panting hard, Alex gripped her hips tight, his fingers digging into her plush figure, grunting as he snapped his hips into her from behind, her pillowed ass meeting him with each thrust. The sweat that built up on him was beginning to fall down face, trailing down his neck and chest.

Tangling his right hand into her hair, his left still placed on her hips, Alex pulled her locks gently, smiling at the sound of her wanton moan, her eyes rolling back into her head.

“A-Alex! Oh god, Alex, I don’t think I’m going to last. F-Fuck!”

Feeling his own climax build, Alex let out a shaky breath as he bent down craning his neck to kiss her lips as he continued to rut inside of her, his thrusts becoming sloppy and quicker.

The sensation became too much too quickly, his legs shaking as he kneeled behind her befo-

Jolting awake, the obnoxious phone alarm woke Alex from his dream, resulting in a now completely frustrated mood. While still on his back, Alex reached behind him on the shelf that rested behind his bed frame, pulling his phone up and looking at the screen, squinting to gain his vision from waking up, the bright screen burning his eyes.

When he unlocked his phone and opened it, prompting him to his email, his frown lit up and turned into a smile, seeing her name in his inbox.

Good evening, Alex!

I’m sorry this is so late, I’m finally getting back to my apartment and wanted to send this your way before I forgot. Here is the reading guide for the rest of the semester and that information I shared with you earlier in case you lost it.

I look forward to seeing you in my office tomorrow or Wednesday. I hope you have a good night! :)

Best!

Alex’s mood quickly shifted after reading the email. While he was disappointed that the wet dream he was having with her ended so soon, he was more than pleased to see that he had an email from her. Clicking his phone off, Alex tossed his phone onto his bed, sitting up with his hand behind him to keep him up.

His room illuminated a red/orange hue from the lava lamp that sat on his dresser in the corner of his room. Turning his attention towards the window, he looked behind the blinds to see the city life outside his apartment lit up, the sound of music coming from the club down the road and laughs from those partying.

Letting out a yawn, Alex shook his head and rubbed his face, shifting his legs before stopping quickly, feeling the mess in his boxers. Looking down, Alex groaned seeing the stain in his boxers, pressing his hand to feel the wet spot before sighing, standing up. He pulled his boxers carefully off, tossing them into his laundry basket before making his way into the bathroom to clean up.

When he entered the small bathroom that was connected to his room, he hissed at the bright light as it came on, looking at himself in the mirror. His hair was tangled up, sticking out on the sides and his eyes were squinted, too tired to open them fully. Shaking his head, Alex climbed into the shower and started the water, the cold water hitting him both waking him up and cooling himself down.

He was absolutely and pathetically smitten over her. There was no doubt about it. Since leaving her class, the only thoughts that occupied his mind were of her. He had already planned out what he would wear tomorrow when he went to her office hours. It was pathetic, truly, with how quickly he was letting the woman ruin him. It was ridiculous to say, no doubt, because what would happen between them? Nothing. Not a single thing would come between the two other than a conversation about Frankenstein, maybe a personal question here and there.

Or so he thought.

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