#and I didn’t wanna spend time making them transparent myself

[krystaldeath]

Cotl Textposts

Alts:

#i have two more one is suggestive and the other is kind of a trod au one. idk if I just wanna wait till I make more or post them now #and if I do post them now do I post them together or separately??? hmmm #anyways. ignore how the sprites almost all have a white box w them. I asked for transparent ones but I was not given them #and I didn’t wanna spend time making them transparent myself #cult of the lamb #cotl textposts #cotl #cotl shitpost #narilamb #leshycat #leshy x yellow cat #yellow cat x leshy #lamb x narinder #narinder x lamb #white bg

[everlarkficexchange]

Clubbing 101

Written by @alliswell21

Prompt 144: She has a night of fun before the start of the semester. She meets this guy, they hit it off that they sleep together. But when she shows up to her class the next day, she sees the guy again. But he’s her professor and he’s way older than she originally thought. #olderPeeta [submitted by @animekpopxx]

Rating: Explicit. NSFW. 

Tags and Warnings: Canon Divergence; College!AU; Age gap, older man/younger woman; The opposite to slow burn? Smut; Unprotected sex; technically impaired consent since alcohol, but their both into each other while sober too 🤷🏻‍♀️; Ethical dilemmas; Teacher/Student relationship (sort of); One Shot, with an ambiguous open ending? Almost 10K words. Unbetaed. 

Notes: Thank you to the moderators once more for putting up with us, procrastinating writers. You gals are saints! Thank you to @animekpopxx for her amazing prompts that never fail to snag my attention and give me the best ideas ever! You rock! I projected this story to be a smutty short thing, but it sprouted words and a background out of nowhere and I had to forced myself to stop adding to it, to get back to my other submissions waiting in my docs. Hopefully, it’s a good read for the ones who take the chance with it. 

Thank you all! 

KPKPKPKPKP

It starts with a harmless ranting. 

“I’m not outgoing, or fun. I’m not even ‘cool’… hell, I don’t care what my sister says, I’m too old for this place!” I tell the handsome, bearded, guy sitting in the barstool next to me, “She’s a med student, you know, but she insists that partying is part of the college experience, especially when one’s career is so demanding… plus, is the last weekend of summer break, which apparently means you’re contractually obligated to party extra hard,” I roll my eyes, “I never saw the appeal personally, but I let her drag me out here so I can keep an eye on her. Is not like I’m gonna let her piss away her future for a night of clubbing,” I scoff, taking a long pull of my beer.

The guy chuckles, but I’m not done just yet. 

I slam down my bottle and continue listing my grievances, “The thing that grinds my gears, is that she begged for a ‘girls’ night out’, and instead of drinking with me and people watch, she goes off with the first fucker that asks her to dance! I mean… did it ever occur to her, I may want to dance with her on OUR girls’ night out?!” I scowl and gulp another mouthful of beer, “then, to add insult to injury, thirty minutes later I get a text from her, saying to go on home without her ‘cause she found a ride, followed by that cursed eggplant emoji, like I needed an illustration of what kind of ride she’s getting,” I mock gag, rearranging the strap of my tiny purse across my chest. 

 “I guess she’s young, and beautiful, and does work very hard, but if you invite me to go clubbing with you, don’t abandon me within the first 15 minutes of arriving!”

My companion winces before sipping his drink, and smiling ruefully, “That’s harsh… sorry you’re having a shitty night,”

“Meh… little sisters, right?!” I shrug. 

The guy smiles crookedly at me, and I find myself enjoying his smile, “I wouldn’t know about that. I’m the baby of three brothers, and the only thing I got away with was learning how to wrestle and spring awesome comebacks on the fly… the brutes kept me on my toes,” he chuckles. 

“Three boys? Sounds chaotic. Your poor mother!” 

“Yeah… life’s chaotic.” He averts his eyes for a second, his smile goes away. I’m afraid I’ve said something wrong, but he suddenly looks back at me, and confesses, “I’m not into clubbing either.” His eyes sparkle, despite the awful, dim, blue lights bathing the place. 

I smile, “Look at us wallflowers, bonding over drinks and sibling shenanigans,” we clink our drinks together and sip. I’m chatty and relaxed, so unlike myself; I guess the two beers I’ve had are starting to get to me. “I’m Katniss, by the way.”

“That’s pretty,” he says, shyly; makes my chest warm up. “Nice to meet you, Katniss. I’m Peeta.”

I arch my eyebrows, “Peter?” I repeat, because I’m pretty sure I miss-heard him over the obnoxiously loud music. 

The guy shakes his head, “Pee-ta… like the bread?” He chuckles. Then adds, “Family name. Everyone on my dad’s side are bakers.” 

I snort-laugh, “Punny!” I say, taking another sip. Yup, beer’s getting to me, I’m not this cleverly funny. “My dad was into survivalism and botany… I’m named after a plant also known as Duck Potato, so I win the weird name competition!” 

“Hey, it’s something else to bond over,”

“Cheers to that!” We clink our drinks again, and partake in our booze. 

He orders another whiskey neat when he’s out… sounds both snooty and distinguished at the same time. Goes well with his put together image, though: nicely trimmed beard, nicely combed hair, nice polo shirt with what I believe is a tiny loaf of bread embroidered on the chest, and dark-wash jeans… I think. It’s hard to tell under the black lights of the club. 

He offers to get me another drink, and I order an appletini.

“J.D. from Scrubs always drank one,” I explain, swirling the coctel in my hand, “I’ve always been curious to try, but didn’t wanna spend my own money experimenting on a drink I could potentially hate.” 

“Makes sense,” Peeta says, “So… what’s the verdict?” 

“Is pretty good, actually. But I think I’ll stick with my Miller Light,” 

Peeta nods, “I honestly don’t enjoy alcohol that much.”

I giggle. “Then, what brings you to this fine establishment tonight, sir, if you’re not much for clubbing, or drinking?” I watch him out of the corner of my eye. 

I like that when he smiles, his eyes crinkle in the corners.

“I lost a bet against a colleague.”

“Oh,” I’m suddenly self conscious and a little uncomfortable. I give the guy a scrutinizing look, and ask suspiciously, “what was the punishment exactly?” 

The man rolls his eyes. “I have to spend one whole hour in the club, without criticizing anything, like the bitter old man I am,” he grins, “My friend’s words. Not mine!” He raises both hands, claiming innocence. 

I laugh at the face he pulls, “Well, you’ve just defaulted on that punishment,”

“How so?” He beams. 

“With the look in your face! It spoke volumes!” 

“Am I that transparent?” 

“You read like a preschooler’s board book, pal!” 

We both laugh, I drink my beer, and he throws back his whiskey neat. 

“So…” he makes a show of looking at his watch, “I still have 33 minutes to kill before I’m allowed to run out of this place… I know I’m not a Med student, co-Ed, sister of yours, but… would you, um, like to dance with me?” He sounds adorably hopeful. 

I glance at the man sideways, toying with my bottle. 

He smirks, mischievously, “I promise, spirits make me more coordinated on the dance floor. I become this amazing dancer when I have a couple of drinks on… or so my brain believes. I probably look like an idiot, but I’m too goofy to know the difference. You’re welcome to be the judge it for yourself,”

I take my sweet time finishing the last dregs of my beer, and wrinkle my nose, “You sure you wanna dance to this shit, kids call music nowadays?” I smirk, pointing a finger up, motioning wide circles into the ether. 

Peeta gives a full belly laugh.

I really do like his laugh! 

“Isn’t it our only choice?” He ventures. 

Not if you follow me home, my thirsty brain supplies; my lips on the other hand, just let through a hint of a smile, because I’m buzzed, but not drunk enough to proposition a total stranger. I’ve never been one to sleep around anyway.

“Okay,” I say, too enthused. “As long as we both agree that this isn’t music,”

“Oh no, this just barely passes as noise!” Peeta agrees readily. 

He guides me to the packed dance floor, and we start moving to the booming, deafening tunes playing overhead. 

I’m not sure if one could call this dancing. Everywhere I look people are writhing against each other, like a pack of zombies without grace or rhyme. 

I’m not sure Peeta will get an accurate assessment of his dancing skills, compared to what I’m seeing, he’ll probably look like a professional; plus, it’s too dark and busy in here to really appreciate anything, really, but after a few minutes of just shifting in place, robotically, I snatch two bottle beers from a waitress walking by, offering one to my partner, hoping that’s enough to get us loosen up. The waitress stares at me until I rummage on my crossbody mini purse and toss a crumple ten on her tray. 

The liquid boost works. Before I know it, I’m grinding my hips against his. Peeta’s just the right height for his thigh to fit between my legs and brush against my front. I get tired of undulating my arms in the air, so I drop them around his shoulders, and feel just how firm and broad he is under my touch. 

Our chests are tightly pressed together, and I’m at the right angle to just stare at his plush-looking lips. I turn around before I do something brash, like kiss him in the mouth. Peeta doesn’t question it, he just places his hands on my hips, and starts moving to the music’s beat. 

I bring the beer to my lips, but the bottle’s empty… oops! It doesn’t matter, I’m having the time of my life! 

Peeta’s swaying guides me. I basically drape my back over his front, and bump my ass into his groin. I feel the hint of a bulge there, and press my rear into it  again, just to confirm if I felt what I hope I felt. 

Peeta’s fingers tighten on my hip, emboldening me to keep going until I’m practically twerking into him, and his slight bulge morphs into a full blown hard-on. 

I twist in his arms to face him, my lust idled brain barely thinking rationally, “Are your 33 minutes done yet?” I yell into his ear, so he can hear me over the noise. 

He doesn’t even look at his watch, “To hell with time! I‘ll stay here all night, if you want me to,” He answers loudly. 

“Come on, then!” I push off his chest, and snatch up his hand before he can reply. 

Leaving the dance floor is surprisingly easily, considering the crowd bouncing in place together. 

I make no conscious plan on where we’re going; I’m arguably familiar with the layout of this place from my many visits since Prim turned 21; I’m only mildly surprised when we navigate across the club, all the way to the restrooms. It’s like my clit is making all the decisions tonight… good for it! 

There’s a line of disgruntled women waiting to get inside the Ladies Room, but the Men’s Room is available, and Peeta lets me guide him into it, like one of those pull toys children have. 

“It stinks in here,” I comment blandly, but make a beeline for the last stall with a door. 

There’s one guy at the urinal, but he doesn’t even look up from his pants, so I just shrug it off and yank Peeta into the stall with me. 

The space is tight, but once inside the stall, I push Peeta into the door, and attack his mouth. 

He makes a startled noise at the back of his throat, but his hands and arms immediately press me into his body more fully. My own hands trek down to his belt, where I fiddle with the buckle until it’s undone, and I can access his pants’ button and fly. 

He hisses when my fingers graze his warm erection, and bucks into my knuckles. I’m in the process of sticking my hand inside his boxers, when Peeta growls, sucking my lower lip into his mouth, and letting it go with a wet pop.

“Switch places,” he pants against my mouth, and hoists me up, until my back hits the door and his hands grab my hips possessively, jutting my pelvis forward, “I’m hungry, would you mind if I eat you out?” 

“Okay,” I gasp.

Thank you for forcing me to wear your tiny, clubbing dress, Prim! 

“You’ll allow it?” He asks, incredulous, rubbing circles on my hips with his thumbs. 

“Yes… I’ll allow it!”

His smile is sexy, his stare is hypnotic. Damned my drunken ass! I can’t believe I’m willing to do this in a smelly bathroom stall!

Peeta sits on the toilet and licks his lips while staring up at me. His hands disappear under the stretchy material of my skirt, bumping my purse out of his way. He skims his fingers under the elastic of my panties, and I bite my lip, nodding eagerly.

Slowly, Peeta slides my underwear down my legs, the tips of his fingers follow, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced!

Once he brings my panties to my knees, his hands rush back up my thighs, pushing the flimsy skirt around my waist. My underwear drops to my ankles on their own. 

Peeta’s level eye with my crotch, and I squirm restlessly. “Beautiful… absolutely soaked,” he whispers in a daze, he inhales pulling me closer, “You smell divine!” He descends, nose first, into the thatch of dark curls between my thighs, making me moan. He ruts his face against me, and suddenly drops to his knees, grabbing my calf to pull my leg up. 

But the movement gets prevented by my stupid underwear, tangled in my ankles. Without missing a beat, I toe my panties off, so Peeta can maneuver my body however he wants. 

He drapes my leg over his shoulder, opening me up to his ravenous mouth. He grunts, burying his face into my core, and finally, FINALLY, his tongue swipes between my folds.

“Fuck!” I squeak. 

My hands fly to tangle into his soft, perfectly coiffed hair. I nearly smother him, holding his face to my pussy, but he’s doing wicked things to me with his tongue: lapping, sucking, and nipping at my labia; drawing number eight figures around my clit with the tip of his tongue, to then sinking it deep inside my core. I can’t stop bucking into his mouth over and over.

When was the last time I was given head? Fuck if I know! Darius probably, he was decent, but didn’t do it often. And Thom was so boring at it, I actually preferred he didn’t do it. But this guy is amazing! A real expert in the matter! 

“I’m so close! Please… I’m so close,” I wail like a cat in heat, writhing against the door. 

Peeta looks up, and despite the horrendous lighting in the room, I realize he’s got the deepest blue eyes I’ve ever seen… too bad I can’t hold his gaze too long, because he starts rubbing my clit with his thumb, while fucking my hole with his tongue, and is all I can do not shout and scalp him in my delirium.

He doesn’t stop drinking my juices while I convulse above him. On the contrary, he retrieves his thumb, but keeps his mouth busy, lapping away all the slick I give him.

It’s too much.

I tug on his hair to pull him off of my sensitive privates. 

Peeta takes one last lick with the flat of his tongue and looks up at me, smiling wolfishly, “Was that good?” His beard’s dripping with me, he wipes some of it off on his sleeve. 

I snort, unsexy and definitely rude. “You made me cum so hard I saw stars… yeah, it was good. Better than good, really!” I smile down at him, and try to pull him off from the floor. 

All the gel holding his curls in place is gone now, rubbed off on my palms. His hair is sticking up on the top and towards the back of his head. I reach up to try and smooth it back, “I’m sorry, I seem to have made a mess of your hair,” I giggle. It’s adorable, but I feel bad that I ruined it. 

“You can mess my hair any time you want, Katniss.” He says, almost shyly, he places his hands on my waist, over the bunched up dress. 

It’s a big turn on to me, how his words are so flirty, but he delivers them so sweetly and awed. Is unexpected and endearing… which is odd, because I don’t usually find people endearing at all!

We both chuckle. 

He licks his lips, and I feel heat pool in my lower belly again. 

“Come’ere!” I wrap my hand around his nape, and pull his lips to mine. 

He responds immediately, licking the seam of my mouth. I suck on his tongue when he slides it against mine. 

He moans. 

“Fuck me, Peeta,” I rasp into the kiss, palming his dick through his jeans. 

He groans, “Are you sure?” He barely holds back another groan when I squeeze his clothed erection.

“Cock. In me. Now!” I command through gritted teeth, trying to pull his cock out of his pants with one hand, while taking his hand, and splaying it on my boob. 

“Okay… shit… this is… surreal! This has never happened to me before!” He kneads my tit, gently.

I’m not sure I was supposed to hear that, so I pretend I didn’t and turn, facing the door to wiggle my ass, in an attempt to convince him. 

Peeta makes a noise in his throat, quickly followed by the sound of shifting clothes, and a metallic thump from his belt buckle hitting the toilet. 

I whine when Peeta’s warm, heavy cock caressed my bare ass cheek. “Please don’t tease me,” I beg.

“Fuck, Katniss… do you really want this?”

“Yes, Peeta… put your cock inside my cunt, and fuck me all the way to next week! Now!” 

His warm body cocoons mine, “Anything you want, sweetheart,” he whispers into my ear, and I feel the blunt head of his cock parting my folds, coating himself with my natural lubricants.

He finds my entrance, pushing inside just the tip. He gasps, “Fuck!” One big hand wraps around my hip to keep me steady, bracing his other arm on the door, above my head. 

“Peeta… Please!” I wiggle my ass, making him sink another inch deep. 

“Hold still,” He hisses, “I’m trying to hold back… not ramming in too roughly… embarrassing myself, cumming too fast,” His hot breath warms my nape. “You feel like heaven!” He growls, tightening his hold on me. 

I’m torn, wishing he’d drill into me without mercy already, while another part of me is grateful he’s trying to stay under control… I don’t know which I want more… 

When was the last time I had sex? 

As if reading my thoughts, Peeta shares haltingly, “It’s been such a long time for me. I want it to last, but I’m

Not sure if I can,” 

I don’t have time to second guess myself, because Peeta’s moving, and he’s massive! 

“Don’t hold back!” I bleat, “I want it rough… I want it fast!” I gasp, clenching down on him. I paw at the door for purchase, trying not to face-plant on the cold, hard surface, while Peeta’s fat prick stretches me to the brink of pain! I can’t stay put for him any longer; I buck into him.

“I said to hold still!” He slaps my ass, hard. It stings, but it’s a welcomed feeling. 

I moan and melt, finally relaxing enough for him to penetrate me all the way to the hilt. He stays there a moment, breathing harshly into my neck, squeezing my hip on and off. 

“You’re so tight. So warm. So wet, Katniss.” He nuzzles my ear, “I’m gonna move now, I apologize beforehand in case this ends too soon for you…” He drags himself slowly out of me, just to plunge right back in with a swift, hard thrust. 

I squeak; he grunts.. 

Peeta holds me by the waist,  “You’re so pretty and sexy, Katniss. I can’t decide if you’re real, or the most vivid wet dream I’ve ever had…” he’s fucking me like a jackrabbit in rut.

I’m speechless, vaguely wondering if I didn’t dream him instead?

His cock head hits a spot deep inside me I’ve never reached before. I start babbling nonsense— mostly praising his cock and his strength— I don’t really know what I’m saying, but he seems to be enjoying it thoroughly by the increase in his speed and the volume of his grunts. 

I’m joisted up and down his shaft like a rag doll; I wish I’d thought of hanging my stupid little purse somewhere before we started, because now it’s bumping on my thighs, distracting me from the great ducking I’m getting; it’s no matter… I can feel my orgasm building in my belly.

“I’m gonna cum, sweetheart… I want you to cum too,” He nibbles on my earlobe. 

“Yes, Peeta! Please make me cum, I’m so close!”

One of his hands slides around my waist to play with my clit, while his other tweaks my nipples over my dress and bra. That, added to the sensation of my g-spot being prodded repeatedly, sends me spinning over the edge.

I must’ve screamed or something, because he clamps his hand over my mouth, and then he’s grunting, digging his forehead between my shoulder blades, and pulling me back against his unyielding body. 

“Fuck…” he gasps and shivers behind me. I feel his dick pulsing, his rhythm faltering, and then he goes still. 

Peeta sags a little, wedging his shoulder into the door to keep from falling. I’m surprised he still has the strength to hold me up too; I have to be dead weight at this point, since my legs feel like overcooked noodles and my arms gave out a minute ago.

We both try to catch our breaths, too spent and weak for much more, at least for a few minutes.

Peeta stirs. “Are you okay?” He breathes out, ruffling the loose wisps of my hair with his breath. 

I chuckle, leaning my sweaty temple on the cool door. “I can’t feel my toes… which is excellent!”

“Good,” he sighs. 

Three heart beats later, he straightens up and pulls out of me. An indecent amount of spend flows down my legs as soon as his cock dislodges from my pussy, but Peeta shoves something soft between my thighs quickly, before I have time to freak out about the mess.

I look down mildly curious, staring at an embroidery of a tiny loaf of bread. Vaguely, I wonder if that’s his uniform? He said he was a baker, right? At least he’s named after bread or something. I giggle. “Is this your shirt?” I ask, widening my stance to gracelessly wipe myself clean. 

“Yeah,” 

“Thank you,” I say, dazedly, turning sideways to smile at him gratefully. 

He’s wearing a simple, white, cotton t-shirt when I return the polo to him, now spoiled with cum and slick. I’m caught off guard by how broad shoulder he is, and by how nice he smells… cinnamon and sweat. Weird combination, but pleasant. I wonder if he baked any bread today? 

“Um… would you… would you like to put these back on?” He asks awkwardly, leaning down to pick up my discarded panties from besides the foot of the toilet bowl.

I wrinkle my nose, “Not really,” I mumble. “Who knows when was the last time that floor got cleaned. Gross.” 

Peeta smiles and shakes his head, “Here,” he grabs his polo, covered in our juices, and wraps my underwear in it. “Now it’s hidden.”

My body is finally catching up with the advanced hour, the beers and the two amazing orgasms. I’m starting to feel sore everywhere, and my eyelids are getting heavy. “Wow… think I’m officially all partied out,” I chuckle weakly.

“Ditto,” Peeta agrees, his smile is shy. “So… there’s this little dinner about two blocks from here,” he starts, eyes downcast; the space seems to shrink around us, now that the frenzy of our physical activities is done with. “Would you like to grab a pancake or som—“

My phone rings, startling us both into silence. I frown, but scramble to find it in my purse, to check who could be calling me… apparently at 2 a.m.!

My frown deepens. Prim’s smiling face flashes on the screen. She was supposed to be getting some herself! “It’s my sister,” I whisper, tamping down my rising panic. I don’t ask if it’s okay to answer, I just do it. “Prim?” 

“Where the hell are you?!” I have to pull the phone off, or risk eardrum rupture by my sister’s screeching. “I’ve been texting and calling you! I’ve been worried sick!”

I scowl at the wall, confused and little annoyed, “Prim… Prim, are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you need me to come get you somewhere?” I try to ask.

“What?! No. I’m home! But you aren’t, and I’ve been scared shitless trying to find you!”

I give Peeta an apologetic grimace, and blindly feel around for the lock to get out of the stall. “Um… why are you home so early? Last time I heard from you, you were getting a ride,” I’m trying to sound unaffected; It’s all I can think to say in my mortification.

“Never mind that! Why aren’t you home already? I thought you had to work in the morning and then go to sch—” 

While Prim rages at me, I place a hand on the phone and turn to Peeta, still in the stall, awkwardly facing the wall, I assume to grant me some privacy. I’m sure he can hear my sister’s frantic chastisement from where he’s standing. “I’m sorry… you’d think I was a teenager instead of a grown ass adult,” I roll my eyes.

Peeta waves me off good naturedly. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for keeping you so late,”

I’m about to say something else, but Prim yells loudly, something about calling the police and checking the hospitals for me, which truly prompts a reaction from me, “Calm down! I’m still at the club, exactly where you left me!” I cover the phone with my palm again, and turn to him. “I’m… I’m gonna go? Before she threatens to send the marines in,” I try to joke, but our situation takes all the levity out of it, and my attempt dies off, lamely. 

Peeta nods, smiling softly; somehow I can tell it’s not genuine. 

“Little sisters, right?” I offer halfheartedly, twisting my lips. 

“Can I… walk you out at least?” He asks quietly; Prim hasn’t stopped nagging this whole time. 

“I… it’s not necessary, but thank you…” 

Peeta nods again, looking disappointed. 

I don’t get to tell him a proper goodbye, because two dude-bros come in the bathroom, letting the noise from the club filter in; one of the idiots elbows the other, and both start making some lewd comments about me, but Peeta steps in, eyes wild with anger, and tells the guys to knock it off. Prim hears the whole thing of course, and goes nuts herself asking what’s going on?

Peeta looks at me, and motions his head towards the door. 

Message received, I step outside the bathroom and book it out of the club, “I’ll be home in a bit. I’m gonna call and Uber,”

“Call me as soon as you’re in it!” Prim demands.

“Fine! Now stop nagging me, will you?!”

I don’t realize I never looked back at Peeta to wave my goodbyes until I’m in the car, heading home. Regret truly is a bitch. I can’t help feeling like I just lost something important, but I have no idea what it is. 

>>—————> * <————<<

It’s been a very long Monday. I’m mainly running on caffeine at the moment, and can’t wait to get home and pass out in my fluffy bed, to see if I can catch up on last nights lost hours of sleep. 

I enter my last class of the day and find a seat in the middle of the third row. I pull my laptop, a writing pad and my mechanical pencil out of my bag, and watch as my classmates start filtering in one by one, greeting each other and finding their places, lazily. 

I’m the oldest student in this class, which is not surprising. I’ve only just come back from my extended— 5 year— sabbatical; and did it only after I was completely sure I could handle my workload and the financial strain of both me and Prim going to college at the same time, without giving myself an early grave. 

It’s been hard, but I’m glad I came back to finish my schooling, I only need a handful of credits to graduate, which is great!

I check my watch. We still have a few minutes to kill before class starts. The professor— Dr. Mellark, according to the copy of my schedule— is not here yet, so I pull up the banking app on my phone to give it another glance. The balance is still the same as the last two times I’ve seen it, but it doesn’t hurt to be extra careful when one is on a tight budget. I scheduled payments for the power, gas and rent to go out in the next few days, and I want to make sure there’s enough money in the bank to cover them. We’re looking fine for the month, financially speaking. 

The door to the classroom swishes open, and I start signing off my app.

“Good afternoon ladies and germs; I’m doctor Mellark, and provided you’re in this room for an English class, I’ll like to welcome you to the amazing world of Classic Literature!” Says a deep, male voice I find oddly familiar. “By the way, don’t any of you dare to disagree with me on the awesomeness of classic lit… I’m a doctor, I know what I’m talking about… unless you ask me about medicine, then please be free to disregard everything I say, because I’m not ‘that’ kind of doctor!” 

A murmure of little chuckles fills the room; even I smile, silencing my phone and putting it away, before looking up at the professor.

I choke on a strangled gasp when I finally set eyes on the man I assume is the teacher, dumping a worn, leather, messenger bag on the desk near the podium. He’s the last person I would’ve expected to have as a professor.  

Oblivious to my predicament, Doctor Mellark— or as I know him: Peeta!— keeps introducing himself. 

“I’ve been teaching this course for 14th years, but I’m always pleasantly surprised to hear the different points of views my students bring to our discussions on the classics we study, which in a nutshell, is the beauty of this class.” He pulls a ream of paper out of his bag, and gives it to a student in the front, “Please take a syllabus, and pass the rest to the next person, and so on… thank you!” 

My face is burning. I think I’m gonna faint. 

“But enough about me,” his voice booms, making my whole body shiver. “I don’t normally do roll calls or care about attendance, as long as you’re not missing assignments, and are here during discussions, so this is the first and last time I’ll be reading this list,” he rises a piece of paper above his head, I surmise has the students names on it, and he instructs, before reading, “I’ll call your names, and you’ll introduce yourself, briefly, that way we can all get acquainted with each other, yes?” 

Ugh! 

He can scratch my name off that list right now! We’re more than acquainted with each other.

Bile rises to my throat. An intrusive, bitter thought pesters me: how many of his students has he gotten ‘that’ familiar with? 

But the thought dies off quickly. An even worse, more worrisome thought springs front and center in my mind: Did we use protection?!

Panic rises in my chest, a nervous queasiness settles in my belly; a distant memory of warm goo sliding down my legs comes to mind… Oh shit! 

Oh shit, oh shit! We didn’t use a freaking condom? Who does that?! 

Oh shit! 

Would a Plan B still be effective right now? It’s been less than 24 hours… 

Peeta’s reading names. People stand from their seats and talk about themselves. I haven’t heard one word they’ve said, but I’ve been watching how some of the female students bat their eyelashes and speak all breathily, smiling coyly at him… Peeta seems oblivious to the flirting, but I still feel a cocktail of unpleasant feelings in the pit of my stomach. 

I realize, I’m jealous!

My ass is frozen in my sit, I’m not even breathing. I don’t think Peeta’s seen me yet, but… what will he do or say once my name comes up? I send a quick prayer to heaven, he won’t recognize me since I look nothing like I did last night at the club, with my hair down and my face all made-up. Right now and plain ol’ me… the rub is gonna be my name. Darn my dad and his awful naming whims! 

Soon enough, he reads a name that makes him stutter, “Kat…Katniss? Everdeen?” He does a double take, “Katniss Everdeen…” his eyes are the size of saucers when he scans the lecture hall, swiftly. When he finds me, he looks back down at his paper, and says the name out loud again, unsure, “Katniss Everdeen?” Like he doesn’t believe what he’s reading. 

I stand up woodenly, my voice cracks a little, “I’m—I’m Katniss Everdeen… hi!” 

I’m about to drop back into my chair, but Peeta kinda mumbles, “You know, Arrowhead, or Katniss is a water plant? The root is edible… like a swamp potato?”

There are quiet little giggles all over the place. 

Peeta clears his throat, his eyes flit away; his face’s blank of emotion, but his cheeks seem pinker than a second earlier, “I just read that online, believe it or not. Interesting facts about local flora, people. Reading is knowledge, but so is learning from one another… what can you tell us about yourself, Miss Everdeen, besides that you have a very unique first name?”

“I…” I harrumph, avoiding eye contact with Peeta at all costs, “I’m a part time student. Majoring in Botany. I took this class to fulfill my last English credits requirement for graduation. I do love books and classic literature, in particular.” 

“Thank you… Miss Everdeen,” he rasps. 

I sit down, clumsily, hoping this horrible, horrible moment is just a nightmare and that I’ll wake up any second now, drooling on my desk, with indentations of my notepad on my cheek, because anything would be less embarrassing than what I’m going through at this point.

Mercifully, Peeta calls a different name, and then another, and then another. I don’t look up from my notepad once.

Peeta for his part, sounds stiff and monotonous— or so I’d like to think— no more jokes or clever sayings. Maybe he’s not as affected as I am about this ordeal, and I’m just making it a bigger deal than it really is? Maybe he does have experience sleeping with students— I mean, it’s not unheard off, right?— Not that either of us had any idea we were engaging in a teacher-student affair last night… 

Although, calling it an affair is generous; it was a measly one night stand. A chance encounter. Two people letting off steam before a busy week ahead. 

I’m getting increasingly angry with all this thinking… and the class seems to drag on. It feels like an eternity, and my mind keeps churning up all kinds of questions: Why would he not say he was a teacher at this particular college? Did he lie about being a baker? Is his name even Peeta? 

I scoffed at the thought.

To my horror, I hear him ask, “Anything to say, Miss Everdeen?” 

Looking up at him requires a great deal of bravery and self admonishment, but I do my best and face him— he’s wearing glasses now, which makes my belly tightened for inexplicable reasons— “No, Doctor Mellark, nothing of consequence anyway,” I retort as venemosly as possible, without alerting anyone else there’s something weird going on between me and the professor. 

Peeta grimaces slightly. Then looks away, “Very well, as I was saying, we will start with the basics: The Iliad and Moby Dick, since those are High school level works, I expect your reports to be sufficiently well researched, and your personal ideas on the text somewhat fleshed out. It doesn’t have to be in-depth. I’m just looking to determine everyone’s style and needs for the semester ahead…” he continues his spiel, and I feel free to go back to my stewing and my musings. 

Before I know it, Peeta’s dismissing the class, wishing everyone a good rest of their evening. 

I jump into action, packing my stuff with my head bowed, but then I hear him again.

“Miss Everdeen, a private word, please?” It’s much too quiet to have been said from his podium. I still startled when I look up and find him standing right against the first row of desks, directly in front of me. 

His face is not quite stern, but he’s definitely less smiley than when we met. 

I force down a gasp, because under the better lighting of the lecture hall, and close up, I can see a plethora of details I missed at the club; like the arresting blue of his eyes, the slight reddish of his neatly trimmed beard, peppered with silver whiskers all over, while his perfectly combed hair is almost all silver on the temples, and ashy blonde on the top. His shoulders are even broader than I remember. 

He’s overall stockier than I originally thought, and just a smidge shorter, which is fine, he’s still the most handsome man I’ve ever met, and I wouldn’t mind climbing him like a tree—

I shake my head off the intrusive, lecheros thoughts. I’m literally lusting after my teacher, for goodness sakes! This is beyond a silly schoolgirl crush!

Peeta arches one dark blonde eyebrow at me, expectantly. 

I nod curtly, because my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth, and gesture for him to lead the way.

I shove my laptop into my bag, and hastily shoulder the straps, hugging my writing pad to my chest, following my professor like a chastened little girl. 

My stupid eyes find his ass, and I blink twice, at the exquisite sight in front of me. I groan internally. 

He grabs his own bag, takes off his spectacles and slides them into his shirt pocket. 

How old is this man?! He said he’s been teaching this class for 14 years, when do professors start their teaching careers? How did I never see him before now roaming campus? Is his age the reason he ate pussy like a master? 

I shake my head, cursing my horny brain. 

Peeta opens a door I have no idea how we came across, and then stands aside, gesturing for me to go in first. 

I duck my head and step into a warmly decorated office, with a small desk and two chairs in the middle of the room. Bookshelves full of tomes line the office. A handful of pictures and framed diplomas hang from the only available wall space in the room, but I don’t get to study them before he catches my undivided attention. 

“Let me start by apologizing,” Peeta stars, closing the door behind himself, “I assure you, it wasn’t my intention to cause you any stress, or embarrassment out there.” He pauses, “Would you like to sit?” He offers, wincing. He doesn’t wait and steps around me, to pace on the other side of his desk, “I… um, never been in this position before,” he scowls, “I’m not sure what assurances I can offer at the moment, except, that I will start the process to recuse myself from this class immediately, to not interfere with your academic—“

“Recuse yourself?” I cut him off, “what do you mean?” 

Peeta squirms a little, and sits down heavily on his chair. My bag slides off my shoulder, and I just dump it in the empty chair I was offered a moment ago. 

“Well, Miss Everdeen, it’s the right thing to do, given our circumstances. We’ve breached the appropriate boundaries of our pupil and teacher positions, and staying in the same class together will put you at a disadvantage… is a power imbalance situation, that calls for action.”

“Can you stop calling me ‘Miss Everdeen’? It’s weird…”

“I’m just trying to maintain an acceptable level of decorum between us,” he says sheepishly. 

“That ship has already sailed,” I say tiredly.

“Perhaps, but it’s my responsibility to still try,” he rubs his forehead. “Anyway, I’ll call my department and see what is next. Stepping down myself is the only fair solution I see so far… it would be terribly unfair to ask you to switch classes. Simply disrespectful, but we both can agree this uncomfortable situation needs to be nipped in the bud, for both our sakes, Miss Everdeen.”

“This is bullshit!” I snap, “What happened in that club, isn’t that terrible of a problem! What we really need to do is stop acting so stiffly and guilty. By the way, you sound like a walking thesaurus!” I accuse, looking him in the eyes for the first time since he called my name at the lecture hall. “Stop it!” 

Peeta inhales deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Miss Everdeen, our actions last night may have been honest, and even innocent in nature, but they still carry consequences… unexpected ones, especially in light of the facts. And the facts are, that it would be unethical for me to remain in a position of authority over you. In any case… if you feel the need to report me to the school administration, for… harassment or inappropriate behavior or anything else, I won’t dispute any claims. I promise to distance myself from you and give you space so you can continue with your education without interference, in a safe environment.”

I grunt, “I’m not going to report you, because you didn’t do anything wrong. Sure, I thought you were a baker… I mean your story about your name, and that little loaf of bread embroidered into your shirt, I thought it was your uniform,” I shrug one shoulder. 

“Sorry about that… I never meant to mislead you,” he says bashful. 

I ignore him, “Either way, I was the one pulling you into that bathroom. I threw myself at you. I begged you to do things to me, and you just granted me my wishes…” like a sexy gentleman, “The sex is on me. I’m 26 years old, I’m not some bumbling teenager who hasn’t learned to take responsibility for her actions, so, please… stop trying to shield me, or protect me, or whatever it is you’re doing,” my arms flap around in frustration. I finally push my bag off the chair, and sink into it. “Look, Peeta—“

“Professor…” he corrects, frowning a little.

I roll my eyes, if he knew he’s just making it sound kinkier than it already is, he wouldn’t be so adamant about the freaking titles. 

“Fine… Doctor Mellark,” I enunciate, pettily. “I specifically chose your class as my last English elective for two reasons. One: it’s exactly the amount of credits I need to graduate at the end of the semester. And two: it fits my schedule to a T, which is important, since I do have a full time job when I’m not a college student. So, I’m sure we can both be adults about this unfortunate situation, and simply forge on. There’s no need for you to recuse from teaching this class, and I have absolutely no intention of switching. We both can wear our big people britches, and pretend last night was a… what did you call it?” I wave my hands, as if the answer will materialize from thin air, “A vivid wet dream? And leave it at that!”

Peeta glares at me, looking aggravated for the first time since I met him. “It’ll be unethical to continue like everything is normal, Miss Everdeen.” Peeta argues, stubbornly. 

“Nobody has to know about last night,” I say, exasperated, then a horrifying thought flashes in my mind, “Unless you bragged about it already!”

“No!” He straightens in his chair, looking offended, “I would never do something so vile,” He looks indignant, “plus, the fact still remains that something did happen last night, and I know about it! I can’t, in good faith, be your teacher.”

“Are you planning on showing me favoritism because you know what my pussy tastes like, Peeta?” I deadpan, “Or are you gonna blackmail me into doing it again?” 

“Stop calling me Peeta!” He growls through his teeth, his very thick fingers clenching into fists on his armrests. 

I blink at his reaction owlishly, realizing I’m truly pushing it this time. 

“I’ve always prided myself on keeping my nose clean. Being a decent man and tutor. Never in 17 years of teaching have I slept with a co-ed, let alone a student in my own class.” He breathes deeply, then pins me to my chair, with those arresting blue eyes of his, burning with controlled anger, “I would never extort you or anyone for sexual favors, Katniss. While I don’t really want to lose my tenure or face other disciplinary actions from the school authorities, the one thing I truly don’t want to damage are my personal standards, and my self image.

“Katniss, I’m already biased when it comes to you. Being your professor won’t be exactly fair to anyone. I’m not saying I would give you A’s willy-nilly, nor that I would grade your papers any differently than I’d do your peers or that I’d be less critical of your work,” 

“That’s reassuring,” I roll my eyes. “You’re telling me that if I bring you a shit essay, you might not be persuaded to let me redo it?” 

He sighs, “I don’t know…” he scratches the back of his neck, “I’ll most likely hover over your desk a disproportionate amount of time compared to your classmates. There’s also a chance I’ll call on your name more often than the rest of them?”

“I still don’t hear one unscrupulous, wrong reason, why you can’t do your job, and teach this class.”

We sit there, staring at each other, at an impasse. 

“Why are you so set on keeping me in that room, Miss Everdeen?” He asks, softly. 

Finally, I relent, relaxing my tense shoulders, and exhaling tiredly. I raise my hands in defeat. “I don’t know, Peeta. Because I want to protect you, the same way you’re trying to protect me. But… recuse yourself if you have to. I still believe you’re a better man than your urges.” 

Peeta relaxes in his chair too, “Thank you, Katniss.You didn’t have to say that, specially because you don’t know me. It still means a lot.”

I chew the inside of my lip, calculating stuff in my head. “You’re right, I don’t know you, but I consider myself an okay judge of character.” He opened this door, it’s time for me to walk through it, “Can I ask you some stuff?” I ask innocently.

Peeta arches his eyebrows. “Shoot,” he says. 

“How old are you?” 

“45. I’m sorry. I knew you were young last night… I just didn’t quite grasp just how young,” his eyes shift downwards, sheepish and uncomfortable. 

“I’m an adult. I’ve been the head of my family for years. At this point, age is irrelevant for me.” I state, dismissively.

“What about your family?” He asks, tilting his head sideways.

It takes me a minute to answer. I cross my arms over my stomach, and exhale, “It’s been only Primrose and I for five years now. My mother had cancer. My father passed when I was eleven.” I rock in my chair, slightly, “That’s why my sister was being such a clingy bitch last night. She can’t bear to lose anyone else. Neither can I for that matter.”

Peeta leans forward on his desk. “I’m so sorry to hear that, Katniss.”

I sit back, feeling like a huge weight just got lifted off my shoulders. “It’s okay, really. I’m back in school, about to finish my last semester, Prim is doing great in university, the only debt we have right now is Prim’s car and my Target card… we are actually okay,” I smile, meekly at him. 

“That’s… that’s good, Katniss. Admirable, really.”

“Peeta?” I start cautiously, “Would you really remove yourself from the class because of me?” 

He looks me right in the eye, sincerity emanating fro his eyes. “Absolutely. Without hesitation. As soon as you leave, I’ll email my Head of Department, explaining my situation. Don’t worry, I won’t mention any names or details—“

I shake my head, vehemently. 

Peeta squints, studying me cautiously, measuring me. 

“Please… stay with me…” 

Something in my tone catches his attention, and he eyes me curiously. “I’ve already told you why I can’t,” he says, almost soothingly. 

I stand up. Go around my chair, and drop back down into it. I start shaking my leg nervously. “I had this feeling in my gut since last night. Like I lost something precious, I just couldn’t put a finger on it… I still can’t, to be honest. All I know, in my loins, is that I can’t let you step down from your position, and I sure as hell won’t walk away on you without figuring out what this…” I wiggle my fingers, pointing to the mouth of my stomach, “feeling is about.”

He stares at me. 

I stand up again, and this time I just pace, to the wall with the pictures, and stare at a bunch of faces, too similar to Peeta’s not to be related to him somehow. 

“I know I’m not making sense, but I just needed to say that.”

He watches me for a long beat, weighing his options no doubt, before answering, “I can’t be your teacher, Katniss…” he sighs, and rubs his forehead, “because I’m afraid seeing you every week, without being able to touch you will be absolute torture.”

“Really?” I bite my lip, giving him an open once over, not feeling one iota self conscious about. “How come?” 

Peeta huffs, avoiding my eyes. “I’d be wondering what your breasts look like the whole time.” He confesses, flatly. “I didn’t get a chance to see them last night, and it kept me awake an indecent amount of time.” He twists his lips, “I’m gonna be pinning the whole semester, whether you’re in the classroom or not, craving the taste of your juices in my tongue, and worse of all, I’ll probably embarrass myself, giving me involuntary hard on’s just fantasizing about you.”

I practically prowl towards him. “You poor thing,” I coo, pouting. “Would you go home to masturbate on the soiled pair of panties I left behind on that dirty, bathroom floor?” I ask… more like, purr, really. 

Peeta chuffs out an incredulous laugh, covering his face with both hands. He grunts, “Aw, fuck! That sounds so… it’s probably exactly what could happen. I’d try to stay professional in the classroom, but in the privacy of my home…” he chuckles weakly, shaking his head.

“What kind of fantasies are we entertaining here?” I ask, invested, and sit on the corner of his desk. 

Peeta thins out his mouth, “Katniss… that’s a slippery slope you’re trying to climb,” he warns.

“Humor me?” I cajole. 

He takes a stuttering breath. “I’ll bring you into this office, same way I did today, except I’ll rip your clothes off, throw you on the desk and take you hard and fast. From behind.” 

I can’t stop a small sound at the back of my throat, nor the need to rub my thighs together. 

I clear my throat, “I expect you’d want to fuck me on every surface in this office?”

Peeta pulls on the collar of his shirt, his face turning crimson, “And probably the lecture hall as well,” he adds conversationally. 

I nod, scooting closer to where he sits. “I’m curious too you know. I didn’t get to see ‘any’ part of you naked. But my muscles still are deliciously sore from last night. A girl has to wonder… just how big a dick has to be to cause so much wreckage?” 

It doesn’t take much effort at all to work him up. Peeta’s pants are tented in what looks like the most uncomfortable erection ever; he shifts in his chair to try and hide the effect my words have on him, yet, his hands remain folded on his lap, white knuckled with the effort of keeping himself in check. He’s really committed not to touch me while I’m still his student, but he rasps a question, full of concern. 

“Did I hurt you?” His eyes search me, earnestly. “I’m sorry I was too rough, really,”

My heart gives a little somersault. “No, Peeta. You were pure perfection. I loved how you handled me.”

His lips twitch, and I’m amazed at how expressive his face is, even partially hidden under his near facial hair. “You said you were hungry last night before you got on your knees…” I murmur, “I think, next time I’ll return the favor,”

“Next time?”

I slide closer to him, but we both keep our hands to ourselves.

I lick my lips, resisting the urge to drop on my knees between his legs and gobble up his cock. I didn’t lie about wanting to see him in all his naked glory, but I can show the same level of restraint he does; I respect him for trying to keep a moral and ethical compass.

I smirk at him, slyly. “Are you sure you wanna abandon your post as my professor, now that my education is on the balance? We can wait a handful of months, Doctor Mellark… I promise not to tease you,” With that, I mean, I promise not to aggravate what could potentially be the worst case of blue balls in the history of slow burns.

Peeta hisses a mirthless chuckle, “You’re too much of a temptation, even if you don’t actively try teasing me, Katniss,”

I start playing with the end of my braided, dark hair. “You know what I’m most really looking forward to, from when I’m no longer your student?” I pose, shyly, “Going to that dinner you mentioned last night.” I shrug one shoulder. “I’ll let you buy me a stack of pancakes to celebrate my graduation. I’ll probably introduce you to my sister, Primrose… and we’d go from there… if you wanted to…”

Peeta smiles, disarmingly. “I’d love that too, Miss Everdeen.” He says quietly.

I let go of my braid, and hug myself, “Stay in the class?” I practically beg one last time. “We can do it, I know we can. We can have a platonic, completely innocent teacher-student relationship until I’m done with college,”

Peeta shakes his head. “We’ll see after I talk to my head of department. Who knows, maybe all the schedules are already locked in place, and I have no other choice but to stay put. There’s no guarantee a replacement is available for me.”

“We’ll make it work!” I say enthusiastically. 

“Maybe…” he sighs, not entirely convinced. 

I pull my phone out of my pocket to check the time. Time is running out, I gotta get to the pharmacy before my window of opportunity closes. 

“Hey, Peeta… um, invasive, weird question?” 

I wait for him to nod.

“Have you by any chance, have gotten a vasectomy at any point?” 

“Mmm no, never had. Why?”

Aw shit! 

I bite the inside of my cheek. “Hopefully no reason.” I say quickly, too nonchalant for my own good, and he catches on it, I can see the gears turning in his brain, “Okay,” I make a big show of yawning and stretching my arms, “I have to run some errands before going home and crashing for the night.”

Peeta cringes, “Are you… okay? Really, okay? You said you were sore?” His eyes rove over my face full of concern. 

“I’m fine,” I smile, “nothing a long soaking in Epsom salts can’t cure.”

“Okay,” he says, unsure. “I don’t want to overstep any worse than I already have, but… I’ve been anxious, wondering if you were alright, if you got home fine to your sister since you left the club. Which, obviously you did… but, I wanted to kick myself for not asking your number, just to be able to check on you… and this is frown upon, a d completely unethical, but—“

“I’ll email you,” I say quickly. “Nothing explicit. But I’ll let you know I’m home and okay.” I’ve spoken to people in code before, this shouldn’t be a problem, and really, sending my professor an email with a time stamp and some innocuous question about the syllabus doesn’t have to be nefarious at all. 

“Alright… Just let me know if there’s anything wrong, okay? I swear this won’t become a routine thing or anything, just this time, to give me peace of mind, and because it is late… and well, yesterday…”

“It’s fine, professor. I don’t mind. And… everything will work out,” I say shouldering my bag and pocketing my phone, “everything will work out, even if my Plan B doesn’t,” I smile and scurry out the door, before the puzzlement in his face has time to settle. 

After all, a semester is only 15 weeks long, give or take… that’s plenty of time to figure things out. 

#alliswell21 #animekpopxx #prompt 144 #Springtime Edition 2021 #submission

[koko-bopp]

Cops & Robbers

park jimin x male!reader

word count - 3K

genre - SMUT

contains - MALE GENITALIA MENTIONS, kinda soft-dom!reader, bottom!jimin, unprotected sex, little bit of dirty talk, talking about consent and safewords, handcuffs, blowjobs, fingering, missionary anal, aftercare, plot twist ending

synopsis - You've been dating Jimin for a while, you're both everything the other could want. But Jimin isn't all that he appears; especially with your job as a police officer, you thought you'd be better at spotting it.

"Do you like it?" Jimin asks, a knowing smirk on his face, one that you've come to learn that meant Jimin was going to get exactly what he wants. The robe he was wearing dropping to the floor, revealing the white lingerie wrapping well around his sun-kissed skin. It made him look so elegant and so desirable, he spoils you like this a lot, almost making you wonder how you scored just a selfless boyfriend. "It's all for you, officer," he purs.

You couldn't help yourself to lick your lips, Jimin using your occupation as leverage to feed both his and your craving. It takes you a second, maybe a blink, but you drop your jacket to the floor, kicking off your shoes and head over to your boyfriend, carefully pushing him on the bed behind him so he was lying on his back. "You look beautiful," You express, watching a gasp leave his lips as you drag your hand down his curves.

"You look tired," Jimin pouts, bringing his hands up to your hair, slowly bringing them down to cup your cheeks, "Do you wanna talk about it first? Is it that thief again?"

"It's ridiculous, the amount of paperwork I need to go through because of him," you chuckle a bit, leaning down to place kisses along Jimin's jaw, "We don't even know what he looks like, there's a partial fingerprint at the last bank; but I honestly don't think it'll lead anywhere.."

Jimin sighs when you reach up to kiss his lips, using the back of his index finger to trace down your cheekbone, before pulling away to look at you with sympathy, "I'll fight him myself if he keeps overworking my baby like this."

You didn't stop yourself from laughing, pressing a kiss on his lips again, "Baby, can I go rougher today? I'm just... I'm just really frustrated.."

Jimin nods, "Of course," his eyes not illustrating any sign of discomfort. You had that transparency with your boyfriends, you could be honest with each other, and it was something you appreciate. Jimin's gaze drops to your wrist, the glistening from the moon outside hitting the gold and silver, "You're still wearing it?"

You look down too, furrowing your brows, "Why wouldn't I? You bought it for me. I even told you not to get me a birthday present."

Jimin grinned, a little smirk on his lips as he brought himself up a bit to bring your faces closer, invisible thoughts going on through the blonde's head as he pushed his hips against yours, watching you bite your lip; taking the opportunity to properly pin Jimin to the bed, hovering over your boyfriend with the moon hitting his skin like he was an angel of a sort.

"What's the safeword, honey?" You ask, tracing your hand down Jimin's body, watching him shiver at the contact.

The word you were looking for came out as a broken moan as you had begun placing kisses down your boyfriend's neck, the reactions his body would provide were immaculate in your eyes. His body would jolt upon you touching, licking or sucking all the places you'd memorised.

Yourself and Jimin have been dating for almost a year, you had met him at the scene of a bank heist. He was shaking and crying when you'd seen him, not the best way to meet the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, but the world works in mysterious ways. Jimin also worked at the bank, his job took up a lot of his time when you two first started seeing each other but so did you job; catching bad guys and all. However, you and Jimin made it work, he likes to spoil you a lot even though you try to reject his advances; how could you say no to such a beautiful face.

"F-fuck, officer–" Jimin moans, you smirk against his chest as you had begun palming his crotch, feeling the muscle grow more underneath your touch as Jimin enjoys the pleasure.

"On your knees, kitten. Bring your hands in front." You get off the bed, standing up while your boyfriend fixes himself to sit on his knees and look at you. Carefully taking off the handcuffs from your belt, unlocking them the way you were taught, and followed by slithering the metal on your boyfriend's wrists. They glisten around the skin, the contrast looking almost majestic, "That's a good boy," you grin, a little gasp escaping from Jimin's lips as you grip his chin, forcing him to look up at you, "Now suck your officer's cock, honey."

With your help, Jimin undid your pants, using his teeth to pull down the zipper, never leaving your gaze or dropping eye contact. The sense of authority you illustrated making him hard and leak.

"Fuck," you groan, furrowing your brows as Jimin excitedly licks from the base right to the tip. Looking at you with puppy eyes, getting a rise out of the sounds you make. But you reach up to grip onto your boyfriend's hair, "Do it properly, baby. I want my dick down your throat."

You caught your boyfriend grinding down on the mattress, "Yes, officer," Jimin immediately coats his lips in saliva and taking your full length into his mouth.

Your job always required you to be firm, it was a surprise to Jimin to see how gentlemanly you were. The first time you two had sex, it was passionate and dirty, you'd bought him to your place, promised him he could moan as loud as he liked. The night was followed by breakfast at midnight and Jimin being treated like a prince, he could comfortably say he thought about marrying you at that moment.

The moans spilling from your mouth with how far he was taking you was music to his ears. Jimin loved pleasing you, probably just as much as being pleased by you.

There was saliva falling from the centre of his lips at he sucked on your cock, falling to the floor as you couldn't help but bite your lip at the sight; Jimin's eyes tearing with how far down his throat you were. "M-mhm, Can't my baby take it anymore?" Jimin nodded his head, mouth full but he tried his best to push himself further. You watched him grind on the mattress, his dick peaking through the white lingerie, leaking with precum and practically erect. You couldn't help but chuckle breathily, "You got hard sucking my dick, didn't you? You greedy, greedy pet."

Jimin's stomach knots at your words, the arousal dripping from your mouth as you pushed Jimin's head to take the entire length, his blonde strands flying through the grip you had on his hair and his eyes welling from gagging on your cock. He loved this, being so far from in control, using him to make you feel good, the way you were groaning and biting your lip, the uniform making you look so attractive.

"S-shit, baby, you want me to cum in your mouth? Huh? You want my cum down your throat?" You asked, clearly rhetorical, but Jimin eagerly nodded his head, sucking harder to fulfil your needs as you furrowed your brows at how sexy your boyfriend looked. He's so pretty like this, lips apart to take everything, "Hm, you better swallow like a good boy."

Jimin's eyes gloss prettily, cum falling from the corner of his lips, the crimson eyeshadow he had on smudging from the few tears that tumbled off his cheek.

Your chest was heaving, a grin on your lips at the sight of your boyfriend. You graze your thumb against the skin of his cheek, providing Jimin with a sense of comfort followed by a kiss on his forehead, "Do you want your reward?"

"Y-yes– yes officer," Jimin's eyes beamed.

"Hm, you're so hard for me, baby," You snicker, carefully pushing Jimin back so he was lying down with his leaking dick for you to see. You smirk, roughly cupping Jimin's crotch only to watch him arch his back with a loud moan erupting sinfully. "How embarrassing, honey. You go so aroused from just sucking my cock?"

Jimin's hips were slowly grinding up, he had no way to stop himself, he was becoming so desperate with your teasing, "Officer," he looks away shyly, raising his hands above his head, "Please... Please fuck me. I want you so so bad.."

You lick your lips, grabbing the lube sitting on the bed and placing just enough on your cock for Jimin's comfort, though not before getting on top of him to hook his legs around your waist. Jimin took the moment to bring his hands down to unbutton your navy shirt, but he didn't make it all that far because you gripped his wrist to pin them above his head. His brows furrowed at you, but you kiss his lips to take the pout away, "Be good for me, baby. I wanna hear you scream."

Moans were spilling from Jimin's mouth as you fucked into him with ease, the bed creaking ever so slightly each time you thrust. Your unoccupied hand moving to grab his hips to get much closer to him, making sure his ass was meeting the hilt of your cock, that he was feeling absolutely everything and that he knew you had every bit of dictation over his orgasm. "O-oficer! Nghh–!" He cried, his breath hitching every time you pounded back into him.

"Louder, baby, let the neighbours know how good your man fucks you," you taunt with your breath against his ear, groans emitting from you with how much pleasure Jimin was providing.

Your boyfriend bites his lip as he accidentally bucks upon your cock hitting his prostate, "Officer! Ah! Baby, right there! Please please please–"

Doing as he asks, you position yourself at that angle, muffling Jimin's cried with your lips, letting your chests heave against each other. The atmosphere clouds with passion and dedication as you feel Jimin clench around your length, "Shit, you gonna cum, baby? You gonna cum all over Officer's cock?"

Jimin frantically nods, his eyes barely keeping themselves open with how fogged up his mind is, just the feeling of your dick thrusting into him and how good it feels occupying his entire consciousness, "P-please."

"Of course, baby."

The moment it shared with Jimin arching his back and you burying your head into his shoulder, kissing down to suppress grunts as your boyfriend spilled cum all over his stomach. You watched his whole body tremble at the sensation of the orgasm, his hole barely letting go of your cock as you pulled out carefully.

"I got you, you did so well for me," you press kisses on Jimin's cheeks as you undo the handcuffs, throwing them to the side as Jimin cracked a small smile at your antics.

"You made me feel good too," he grinned with tired eyes, wrapping his arms around your neck as soon as you'd wiped the cum off his stomach and you couldn't help but place a peck on his nose. "I'm sorry, baby, but could I have some water...?"

You rolled your eyes, kissing his lips once again, "Of course," you reply softly, "Wait here."

A little, happy smile on your lips as you fix up your pants and head downstairs to cater to your boyfriend. It was remarkable that you would literally jump off a plane for Jimin if he asked you to, you really loved him and he always finds a way to make you smile; how could you not love him.

A playful whistle flies through your lips and echoes through the dark kitchen. You could still find your way around it since the space wasn't pitch black, reaching to grab the cup from the shelf and using the filtered water-tap as you patiently wait for the glass to fill; though the sound of your mobile phone in your pocket cuts your soft whistle.

"[L/N] speaking," you answer, turning off the water tap now that the glass was full.

"Sorry for calling so late, [Y/N], it's Kim," the sound of your supervisor's voice emitting from the other end of the phone got rid of your casual behaviour, your back straightened itself out of reflex as Namjoon spoke, "I wouldn't call unless it was urgent; there's been a breakthrough in the Jeon Bank case and I felt it would be more appropriate to tell you now than later."

You furrowed your brows as you kept the phone at your ear, "No need to apologise, I'm all ears."

Namjoon started; "Amongst the thousands of dollars that were stolen, we can honestly conclude that the heist was impressive. The only thing that didn't make sense was amongst the money, the thieves took a more tangible item," Namjoon explained, you could hear the male flip through papers on his desk while you listened carefully, "[Y/N], a watch was stolen."

"A watch?"

"And not just any watch, a Patek Philippe in white-gold. It's worth up to 21 million dollars and the Jeon family purchased it, they didn't think it would go missing because it was in the vault hidden in a door behind the money."

You bought the tip of your thumb in between your teeth in thought, "Sir, are you saying the money was just a distraction?"

"That's what I'm thinking."

Patek Philippe... Why did that sound familiar? You're not in much of a position to be surfing for watches on the web, especially when you can just tell the time on your phone, but the name didn't sound distant.

It was when your eyes met a branded name on your watch.

Patek Philippe. White-gold.

No. "Sir, when was the date of the heist?"

Namjoon read out the numbers to you, and it you felt a whole stab in your chest to learn that it was exactly a week before your birthday. You practically heard Namjoon's concern over the phone, "[Y/N], are you alright?" Jimin wasn't working that day either... He told you he was headed for a job interview in Gangnam... He didn't call you that whole day.

That happened three times the whole year you two had been dating.

You met Jimin at a bank. At the bank the first heist Seoul had in the longest time.

No.

No way. It can't be Jimin, he's sweet, he's funny, he's smart. He's the most loving boyfriend you could ask for. He's not capable of something like that.

"Baby?" Speak of the devil. You turn to find Jimin standing at the doorway of the kitchen, you hadn't even realised that you had dug your nails into the palm of your hand, you could only watch Jimin's lips move as you could barely make out the words. "Is everything okay?"

#when youre firm on acab but you still write stuff like this 😔✋🏼 #park jimin x male reader #park jimin x you #park jimin x reader #park jimin #jimin bts #jimin #bts jimin #jimin x male reader #jimin x reader #jimin x male reader smut #bts x male reader smut #bts x male reader #bts smut #kpop x male reader #x male reader smut #x male reader

[nightshade-minho]

-Free Rent- ‘Melted Ice-Cream’-

Hyunsung + fem!reader, ft. Felix

Warnings: nipple play, food play, anal play, anal penetration, creampie, unprotected sex, face-fucking, etc.

Moving in with the boys was a lot more fun than you had thought. Sure, the day you moved in, Minho and Chan chose to welcome you in the most unconventional way possible...but it had been two days since Chan spent the night with you after that big dinner, and nothing sexual had happened since then.

They were quite kind, and not the reckless hooligans that Mina had made them out to be. The dinner they’d made to celebrate your arrival was probably the most delicious thing you’d ever tasted. They were all very courteous to you, and for the next two days they helped you settle in.

You were currently sitting on the sofa watching a movie along with Felix, who you quickly realized was a bit of a cuddler.

He had his arm around you, pressing your body close to his as he watched. It was a stark contrast to the last time he had his arms around you, holding on to your waist as you rode his cock.

To your knowledge, Changbin and Minho had gone to the grocery store for supplies, while Seungmin and Jeongin had already gone to sleep in their room. Hyunjin and Jisung were also in the living room, but they weren’t paying any attention to the movie; one was sprawled on the floor with his phone while the other was focusing all his concentration on a plate of leftover cheesecake.

You couldn’t deny that originally, you had expected them to not really warm up to you in this way, thinking that some of them would view you as nothing more than a sex object. Your fears were invalid, as they were all quite eager to accommodate you, and you were starting to feel quite comfortable with each and every one of them.

Suddenly you felt Felix’s hand which was around your shoulder sneak down to your breast, softly groping it. You looked up to see him staring at you, biting his lip. “Is this okay?” He whispered. You nodded, shuddering as he let his thumb ghost over your nipple. You looked at Hyunjin and Jisung, but both of their eyes were still trained on the phone and cake, respectively.

Felix softly rubbed your bud through the thin tank top, leaning in lightning quick to suck wetly on your nipple, moving to your other nipple and taking that into his mouth as well. He leaned away, his eyes roving over how his saliva had made the white fabric transparent, your nipples now clearly visible. He went back to drawing circles on your buds with his thumb, his gaze drifting back to the television for a while, chuckling at the way your breathing was laboured.

He leaned in close to your ear. “You have perfect tits, y/n. Maybe you’ll let me fuck them? Let’s go to my room.”

You looked at Jisung. “What about him?” You said, referring to Felix’s roommate. He shook his head. “Trust me, Jisung prefers savouring his cheesecake at a really slow pace.”

You were about to agree when you heard Chan’s voice. Felix’s hand quickly dropped from your boob as the four of you turned around to see a smiling Chan.

“Hi guys. Uh, I’d like to talk to y/n, if that’s fine?”

They all nodded, even Felix, who reluctantly let go of you. You got up and walked over to Chan who grabbed your hand and led you aside to the kitchen.

“Hey, just wanted to tell you that if you do want your room painted, we can get someone to do that. Of course you wouldn’t be able to sleep there for a few nights...it’s alright, Minho and I will sleep on the sofa, and you can take our room.”

You giggled nervously. “Oh, no...please don’t go that trouble. I’ll sleep on the sofa. It’s really more comfortable than my old bed, so-“

Chan cut you off. “No, you can sleep in any of our rooms. The beds can fit three anyway. I was just afraid that you would feel uncomfortable...you’re not sleeping on the sofa.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Chan spoke before you could say anything. “So...there’s something else. A girl called Mina keeps calling here, but you’re never around when she does. Does the name ring a bell...?”

Mina. Fuck. You hadn’t spoken to her since she told you about this whole thing. You felt guilt settle itself in your heart, promising yourself that you would call her tomorrow, since you knew she never kept her phone with her after 8 PM. Some weird “mindfulness” thing. You sighed. It had only been about three days, but you missed Mina and her inclination for yoga and smoothies that she claimed were ‘healthy’...(when you knew they consisted of just oranges, peaches and a shit ton of sugar.)

“Yeah, she’s my best friend.”

Chan widened his eyes. “Ah, okay then. Anyway, I’ll let you get back to what you were doing. Wouldn’t wanna let Felix down, right?” You gasped, as he winked at you. So he did see what was happening.

He left the kitchen, presumably to go back to his room. It was about 10 PM. You weren’t feeling very sleepy, but you knew it was time to go to bed, since you needed to wake up early tomorrow. Even though it was a Saturday, you knew that Mina had to go to an environmental club meeting in the afternoon, so you had to meet her before then.

You went back to the living room, searching the room for Felix only to see him absent. You frowned, going to sit down on the sofa. “Guys, where’s Felix?”

Hyunjin scoffed. “Oh, so now we exist?”

You raised your eyebrows. “Wait, what?”

Jisung rolled his eyes, setting down his empty plate on the table and coming over to sit beside you, leaning forward, his face hovering in front of yours. “You think we didn’t notice? We’re not blind.” He gestured to the two wet spots on your shirt, and you mentally smacked yourself for forgetting. So that’s how Chan came to know. You felt a blush spread across your cheeks, embarrassed.

Hyunjin finally tore his eyes away from his phone, getting up off the floor to sit on your other side, his hand firmly gripping your thigh.

“Felix went to his room to sleep right after you left with Chan.”

Ah. So that’s why he left. He probably thought that Chan was taking you away to spend the night with him. You shook your head. If only he’d waited a few more minutes...

You jolted back to reality when Hyunjin’s fingers now crept up your thigh, pressing against your underwear. His graceful fingers pressed your clit, as Jisung pulled the sleeve of your tank top down, exposing your boob. His finger came up to touch your nipple, which was still slightly wet from what Felix had done earlier.

“You really seemed to enjoy what Felix was doing to your nipples...” He pinched one, a squeal ripping from you when he did so. “Felix loves your boobs. It’s the first observation he made about you.” Jisung leaned in to lick a stripe over your nipple, looking over at Hyunjin.

“Not gonna join?”

“I’m more of an ass guy myself.”

Jisung grinned. “So am I.”

Jisung paused for a minute, seemingly deep in thought, before his eyes widened and he stood up.

“I have an idea.”

He left the room and you looked at Hyunjin, confused. He shrugged, pulling you onto his lap. He tugged at the hem of your top, pulling it off of you. He pulled down your shorts next, and put his hands on your ass cheeks. He stretched them apart as he looked up at you, his eyes filled with ardor.

“God, y/n, you drive me crazy. I’ve been waiting to have my way with you again since that day we all fucked you. Truth be told, I wish Jisung wasn’t a part of this right now, but we’ll get our alone time later. After all, you’re not leaving any time soon, right?”

You nodded, and he spoke again. “There’s just something about you. I think it’s the way your innocence co-exists with your sexiness...we all noticed it. It was why we chose you almost immediately. A lot of candidates came by, you know? None of them had that je ne sais quoi...the spark.”

He put his finger in his mouth and wet it. You moaned, because as he was speaking he had pulled your thong to the side, his saliva-covered finger tracing your rim.

Jisung came back into the room just then, holding a bottle of lube and...a tub of ice-cream?

You looked on, confused, as he set down the things on the table. Just then Hyunjin’s finger slipped into your anus and you gasped. He moved it in and out shallowly.

Jisung suddenly came over and lifted you off of Hyunjin, carrying you and placing you on the armchair instead. You heard Hyunjin let out an indignant sound, which he ignored. Jisung smirked up at you as he lifted the lid off the tub of ice cream. There was only a little bit left, enough for about a scoop or so, and it was all melted. Jisung used a spoon to take some and drip it all over your stomach, some of it pooling in your belly button. Though it was melted, it was still cold, and the sensation was making you dizzy. He drizzled some over your boobs as well. Throwing the spoon on the floor, he leaned in to lick the cream off you slowly.

He was taking his time, his tongue laving over your skin. Through half-open eyes you saw Hyunjin come over, leaning in to lick the ice-cream off your boobs as Jisung paid attention to your belly button, his tongue swirling around it.

Your wetness was gushing out of you by now, and you wanted to press your thighs together...but Jisung kept them spread apart. His fingers were hovering near your center...the attention you were being given was nice, but you were getting impatient.

Finally, you let out a load moan. “Just fuck me already!” The two boys stopped, looking at you. That was a mistake. There was anger flashing across their eyes now.

Jisung picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder and taking you to Hyunjin’s room, which was close to the kitchen. Changbin still hadn’t come back from the grocery store, so it was currently empty. When he reached, he threw you down on the bed with a lot more force than necessary, and you whimpered as he crawled over you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Hyunjin close the door behind him.

“Fucking whore. Can’t you just take what we’re giving you without any complaints?”

You felt the bed dip as Hyunjin moved onto it, settling above you. From your position, you could only see his face upside-down...but the frown on his face was still clear.

You closed your eyes. Jisung lifted your leg up over his shoulder as he pulled your thong off. His fingers went to your ass.

He looked up at Hyunjin. “You got to have her ass last time, so it’s my turn now. I bet she’s tight as hell...”

He squirted some lube onto his fingers, and applied it to your anus, two of his fingers slipping in at once, causing you to throw your head back and open your mouth in a loud moan. Just as you opened your mouth, you felt someone shove their cock in between your lips, sliding in. You choked, tears slipping down as your eyes shot open. Hyunjin pulled you up slightly so he could fuck your throat easier.

Meanwhile Jisung pulled his fingers out, pulling down his sweatpants enough so his cock could come out. He stroked it a few times before aligning it with your anus.

“You said you wanted to get fucked, slut? Here you go.”

His cock rammed into your ass and you cried out, gagging around Hyunjin’s length.

The pain quickly gave way to pleasure as the two of them worked up a rhythm. Hyunjin let his hands drift over your sticky skin, pinching from time to time. The slight, sudden bursts of pain made you clench around Jisung each time, causing him to groan loudly.

Jisung pulled out, followed by Hyunjin. He flipped you around so you were on your stomach, and Hyunjin moved up so that you could suck his cock more comfortably. You opened your mouth to take him in just as you felt Jisung slam back into you, his length moving in and out of you rapidly.

His grip on your hips was so tight, that you were sure bruises would form. You looked up at Hyunjin who gazed at you with a serious look on his face, absent-mindedly rubbing circles on your shoulder as he face-fucked you.

Jisung’s cock twitched in you, and you knew he was getting close. His hands reached down to rub on your clit furiously, and you hit your high quickly. He came almost right after, pulling out and watching his cum leak down your ass to your pussy.

Hyunjin’s thrusts were getting sloppy too. He pulled out, and told you to sit up. You did. He groaned as he stroked his cock, cumming all over your boobs. Hyunjin sighed, leaning back and pressing his face to his pillow, falling asleep quickly.

You turned around to face Jisung, who bit his lip as he surveyed you, covered with white fluid that could either be cum or ice-cream. He leaned forward all of a sudden and scooped you up into his arms, getting up and kicking the door open with his feet.

Baffled, you stared up at him.

He saw your expression and laughed. “Oh look at you, y/n. Your nipples are literally covered with cum...so wet and erect. I think I’d be a pretty shitty friend if I didn’t take you to Felix.”

You blushed as you remembered Felix’s intentions. Jisung smiled down at you as he stepped out of Hyunjin’s room to take you to his...only to bump into someone.

The two of you looked up to see Changbin, his hands holding grocery bags.

He took one look at you and glared.

“Now, just where do you think you’re going without me? Cause whatever this is, I want to be a part of it.”

#skz smut #stray kids smut #han smut #jisung fluff #kpop imagines #jisung smut #han jisung smut #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #jisung angst #han fluff #han angst #stray kids #skz #felix smut #lee felix smut #yongbok smut

[fiddlepickdouglas]

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 14 - Unexpected Meeting

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, who will they run into?, 3.2k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

WARNINGS: death mention, emotional trauma

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13

“Man, I need a break,” Reggie was saying as he strolled with Alex down an unfamiliar street in the early evening, stretching his arms. “I mean, being in the studio all the time has been good, but on top of everything else it’s just so much!”

Unsure where they were headed, Alex walked a few paces ahead on the sidewalk, casually navigating for both of them. He squinted as he looked at Reggie.

“Reggie, you dropped, like, all of your classes once we signed on.”

“Nope!” his friend exclaimed, tilting his head in a proud manner. “I just needed two electives to graduate. It’s okay, though, man. Not everyone finishes their math requirements as a freshman.” Reggie patted Alex’s shoulder, as if it were any sort of consolation.

“No, good for you Reg,” Alex said. His parents had paid for all this private tutoring and even gotten him to take some college credits early. Of course, his only serious plan after high school had been the band so it was all wasted effort, but then all of their attempts with him amounted to that. He was learning to feel less guilty over it. It wasn’t his fault they never cared about what he wanted.

“How long do you think Luke and Bobby are gonna be workshopping their parts together?” Reggie asked.

“Long enough. Where are we going, exactly?”

“Oh, I was just kind of keeping an eye out for anywhere interesting.”

Alex blinked. “I thought we were headed somewhere specific.”

“I’ve only been to this side of L.A. like, once, so I don’t think I’d make a good tour guide,” Reggie stated.

And just like that, Alex’s mind thrust itself back into remembering Willie. He was getting better at not crumbling completely in the moment, but it still felt like his heart was temporarily dunked into a dark ocean of misery. It would remain waterlogged and heavy inside his chest for a while.

“Alex?” Reggie was saying, looking at him with concern. “You okay?”

Snapping his thoughts back to the present, Alex sighed as he looked back at Reggie.

“I’ll be fine.”

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jean jacket and pressed his arms against his sides. Shoulders hunched, he continued through the crowd. Focusing on walking would hopefully help it wear off. He made every step purposeful, trying to get the weight in his heart to fall through his feet. Reggie’s hand on his shoulder made him turn.

“It’s still rough, isn’t it?” he asked gently. “If I said something - ”

“It’s not your fault,” Alex tried to assure him. “Sometimes it just comes out of nowhere. Besides, I can’t make you and everyone else walk on eggshells.”

“Maybe not, but we’re in this with you. It may have been different for us, but we all met Willie. I’d never seen you warm up to anyone that fast. Even after a few months, it’s still fresh; don’t force yourself to be better for us.”

Pausing on the sidewalk, Alex looked up at Reggie. He tried to smile as gratitude edged its way in, relieving most of the heaviness in his chest.

“I appreciate that, Reg.”

“Of course, man.”

“So,” Alex took a deep breath to let everything else wash away as they kept wandering. “You made it sound like you had a lot going on. Is everything at home okay?”

Reggie shrugged. “Eh...no change there. My mom went to stay with her sister after the last fight, so my dad’s been trying his best to take care of everything, but he’s too upset to handle it well. My little sister has just been sleeping over with friends anyway, and I can handle myself, so - ” he shrugged again, “ - you know, I do what I can.”

Alex nodded. He had nothing really to comment, and Reggie knew he was always there to support him. This wasn’t anything unusual for him, but it still wasn’t right. Neither of them spent much time at their own homes, so wandering through the city like this kept them occupied when they weren’t with the rest of the band. Looking up at the store signs around them, he saw a record store about a block ahead.

“Hey, why don’t we check that out?” he suggested.

“Yeah!” Reggie said, dropping any ounce of gloom from the previous subject and skipping along to catch up with Alex.

A small bell rang as they came through the door, and they immediately began filtering through shelves of records and CDs. Peeking toward the back of the store, Alex could see a counter that offered a menu of food and drinks, some tables, as well as the smallest stage in the world. This seemed like a neat little place.

“Oh,” Reggie started after a while. “I got us a gig playing at my cousin’s wedding.”

“A wedding?” Alex said skeptically, turning from the Pansy Division vinyl he was checking out. “When we’re trying to finish a record and go on tour?”

“It’s Conrad, okay, he’s family! And he said we could make the setlist.”

Alex shrugged, considering that was fair.

“...with his approval.”

At that addition, Alex could only sigh and shake his head.

“And then maybe, you could, I don’t know, finally ask Bobby to be your date?”

Reggie put down the Mötley Crüe album he’d been examining and looked up at him in shock. Alex realized he’d possibly been too blunt. But immediately Reggie began to cover it up, laughing and shaking his head.

“What?” he said, his denial completely transparent. “Was that a...was that supposed to be a joke or something?”

Giving him a look of pity, Alex put his hands on his hips.

“You’re really gonna try to pull the wool over the eyes of your gay friend?”

Caught, Reggie looked back at him in defeat and bowed his head.

“I’m gonna guess you noticed a while ago?”

Nodding, Alex tried to soften his demeanor. 

“There’s been something up with you two for months. How come you haven’t tried to talk to him about it?”

Reggie knit his brow and began fiddling with his fingers.

“Well, I’m a little confused by it, to be honest. Cuz, I mean...I like girls, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“But I like Bobby, too.”

“Okay.”

His friend looked up at him, expecting more of a reaction. Alex leaned against the shelf and folded his arms.

“Do you think there’s something wrong with you? Because you’re talking to the king of wrong feelings.”

“Well, sometimes I feel like that, but not really. It’s something else,” Reggie said.

“Like what?”

“Well...we’ve been friends for years. It just sort of crept up on me and I don’t know what to do. What if he rejects it? He’s one of my best friends.”

Thinking for a moment, Alex looked down at his feet. He didn’t blame Reggie for being worried. He’d had a mini crush on Bobby for a couple weeks back in ninth grade and had the same dilemma. It was easier for him to get over, though, simply because it had faded quickly.

“Well, I wish I could say if it’s meant to be it’ll happen, but sometimes…”

Sometimes it dies in a fire before there’s any chance of knowing.

He shook his head to get rid of the awful thought and ignored Reggie’s look of concern.

“But if I know Bobby, I don’t think it’s going to harm anything. I think you should go for it, Reg. I truly, honestly, will back you up on that.”

A smile spread wide across Reggie’s face.

“Thanks, man!”

Without fretting over it for another second, he turned back to the shelf of CDs he’d been perusing, and Alex did the same. There was a crazy good selection, and Alex wished he could get his hands on a record player. Playing CDs on a boombox worked for some things, but there was a level of charm in playing something on a vinyl record that appealed to him even more. He made a note to get a small notebook to carry in his fanny pack, hoping to return to this store and make a wishlist of sorts to work toward.

“Do I see Alex and Reggie of Sunset Curve?” A familiar voice said from behind.

Both of them turned to find Flynn standing in the aisle, braids tied up into a high ponytail and eyebrow arched in her usual smart fashion.

“Hey Flynn!” Reggie exclaimed, pulling her into a hug. Alex went in for one afterward, happily surprised.

“Hey guys!” she said, grinning.

“What are you up to?” Alex asked.

“Gonna be performing in a bit,” she said excitedly. “Just a warm up before the main group comes on. I’ve been working on some of my own stuff; I think you guys would love it! Got time to stick around?”

“Sweet!” Reggie raised a fist for her to bump. “I’m down. Alex, wanna stay?”

“Yeah, sounds great!”

He had yet to see what Flynn was capable of. If he were to judge only on knowing she’d been in a duo with Julie, he expected it to be good.

“Also, you should try the burritos here,” Flynn told them. “They are to die for!”

The endless click-rollll-click-click-click of his board filled his ears as Willie moved through the street, feeling the wind pass over him in the way that made freedom feel like he could clutch it in his hands. He’d actually spent today not worrying about Alex. It felt good not to dwell on what little past he had access to. Of course, he still had repetitive dreams about the few memories that had come back, but the backwards one with Caleb in it hadn’t come back ever since he’d gotten to LA. Moving forward felt...nice.

He had spent the morning sketching at the beach, getting all sorts of practice in. The beautiful waves, seagulls, the different activities all around him. Somehow a group of young college kids had gotten him to join their volleyball tournament. Willie wasn’t sure if he’d ever played it before, but once he caught onto the game, he’d gotten surprisingly good. It felt nice to roll up the hem of his jeans and dig his toes into the warm sand while playing with a group of strangers. They’d nicknamed him Mowgli, whatever that meant. He liked the sound of it though.

Heading off to work after cleaning himself up, he realized he could spend all his free time that way. Peacefully sketching, meeting fun people, and enjoying his surroundings. Was that all it took to be happy? Willie chuckled at the thought of how much Caleb had stressed over rising to the top of his business game, never appearing to be satisfied with any of it. Leaving Vegas remained the best decision he’d ever made. Of course, he wasn’t always proud about his method of burning down the shed, but it had been one of those...heat of the moment things.

Willie skated up to the back entrance and shook his hair out after lifting off his helmet. Just a few short hours of making food, some chill entertainment, and he could peace out for the night. He headed inside the store and right into the small kitchen. Thankfully, the store didn’t fit too many patrons and it was never hard to keep up with orders, and Kyle had a system so he never had to leave the kitchen. This basically meant he could jam to the live music during the lulls between orders with no interruption.

Kyle entered the kitchen just as Willie was tying on his apron.

“Hey, dude, thanks for coming. We actually got two acts coming in, so it should be a full crowd. Katelyn can be the MC for the first bit, but do you mind taking over for the second half?”

A twinge of excitement came over Willie and he lit up. He’d never gotten to try being an MC before.

“Don’t mind at all!” he said.

“Alright, man!” Kyle exclaimed. “First two orders up: swamp style nachos and a bog burrito.”

“Got it.”

“We’re up for a big night with these performances,” the girl hosting hyped up the crowd. “Let’s give it up for our artist of the night: Flynn Taylor!”

Reggie cupped his hands over his mouth as he hollered along with everyone else’s applause. Alex clapped with a mouthful of nachos. Flynn stepped onto the stage behind a set of deejay turntables, smirking as she began flipping switches and turning knobs.

“Thanks for coming out here everyone,” she said into the mic. More applause and whistles echoed through the room. “We’re gonna make a lot of noise tonight, so let me hear you get pumped!”

As she began playing a beat, Alex bobbed along, immediately interested. He didn’t know a thing about mixing, so he was highly impressed with the different sounds she was using. Then Flynn picked up the mic and began rapping and the whole room cheered.

“...I’m a princess, I don’t need a prince, boy I’m priceless...I’m here to shut it down like a night shift…”

“Man,” Reggie leaned over to Alex. “She’s so good! I say we book her to open for us ASAP as possible.”

Alex merely snorted and chuckled at Reggie’s misuse of the acronym. He actually enjoyed the idea of having Flynn rapping to open for their rock shows. Gigs where all the bands sounded the same got a little flavorless sometimes.

“Also,” Reggie said as he took a huge bite into his burrito. “This is the best burrito I’ve ever had.”

“Lemme try some, you can try my nachos,” Alex said.

All Reggie could say was Mm! as he passed the burrito over.

The final beats of the first performer echoed in the kitchen where Willie had been dancing, waving various kitchen tools around. He’d thoroughly enjoyed the whole set, and wondered what sounded so familiar about the girl who was rapping. Before he could spend more time thinking about it, Kyle came in.

“Okay, you ready?” he asked.

“I just keep people busy and then announce the next group, right?” Willie guessed.

“Yeah, man, you’ve got this!”

“What’s the next group called?”

“Downslide. And they brought some merch, so it’s a good idea to mention that to the crowd as well.”

“Okay,” Willie nodded, slipping out of his apron. “Maybe I could put their t-shirt on or something, you know, sell the look?”

Kyle looked impressed. “Yeah! I’ll go see what they’ve got.”

He left the kitchen and hardly a minute later returned with a jacket.

“They said you could wear it for the night. Not gonna lie, I wish I could wear this, it’s a sweet jacket.”

Willie slipped it on, and turned around. He didn’t often wear jackets, but whatever it was made of was pretty soft.

“Guess I’m ready,” he said, giving Kyle a hand slide and fist bump before leaving the kitchen. He stepped up behind the microphone and looked out at the crowd, and further back, the empty store.

At that moment, he heard the bell of the store door ring and two guys walked outside. Through the window, a familiar leather jacket passed. Then, he saw a head of blonde hair follow, turning to look both ways to cross the street, and his heart grew to fill all the empty space in his chest. It was unmistakable. It had to be.

“Alex...” he breathed quietly into the microphone. Adrenaline immediately went out to his extremities. The crowd before him looked bewildered as they waited for him to announce the next group.

Glancing offstage, he saw Kyle give him a strange look. Willie shook his head, unclear what message he was sending but ultimately knowing he couldn’t stay at his current spot. Before he could think anything else, his legs were bounding out the door. It felt like every ounce of blood in his veins knew. The search was over.

Reggie and Alex had just reached the opposite corner. He wasn’t going to miss his chance.

“Alex!” he cried, running to meet them.

He immediately thrust his arms around a surprised Alex, gripping him tightly, burying his face into his shoulder.

“Oh my god, Alex!” he said, panting. “It’s so good to see you.”

He didn’t feel the hug didn’t reciprocate, and instead Alex grabbed his shoulders and pushed him away. The darkness of the street seemed to envelop him.

“What are you - ?” Alex started, staring back at Willie like he’d just been assaulted. Then shock wiped over his whole face. Then confusion. And then a pain came over all of it that made Willie’s concern grow.

“What - what is it?” he asked, all the excitement gone.

Alex wouldn’t look him in the eye, and he raised a hand to hold the side of his head.

“No, this isn’t real,” he whispered to himself, shrinking backward and shutting his eyes. “This can’t be real.”

Willie glanced over at Reggie, who also stared like he was seeing the impossible. He could see Alex shaking and heard a rattled breath, and felt tension grow thick in the air. Quickly, he went to take Alex’s face in his hands.

“Alex, hey, look, it’s me,” he soothed. He fought to get a look directly into his eyes. “It’s me, Willie.”

Finally, the green ocean gazed back at him, turbulent and restless. What once had been a grounding rhythm of waves had turned into a maelstrom of despair. Even worse were the tears welling up right before him. Willie watched the storm rage for a few seconds, seeking for a moment of calm.

“What’s wrong?” he murmured, lowering his hands. Alex looked so wounded it frightened him.

“How are you alive?” Alex begged to know.

Blinking, Willie sat back, astounded at those words. While he agreed it was a miracle he was still alive, he couldn’t fathom why Alex would ask such a question. He chuckled merely out of discomfort.

“I’m here.” Willie glanced at Reggie, looking for an explanation. “Flesh and bone. Why? What happened?”

Alex looked at him incredulously, jaw hanging open. He looked so tightly wound and so scattered all at once. 

“Caleb told me you were dead.”

Willie blanched inwardly at the mention of Caleb, but even more so at the rest of that sentence he’d been utterly unprepared to hear.

“He...he - ” he stammered for a moment. “When would you have even talked to him?”

Sharing a look with Reggie, Alex took a deep breath. Then he looked back at Willie hesitantly.

“We see him all the time. We work for him now.”

It was Willie’s turn to drop his jaw.

“We’ve been signed to his record label for a few months now,” Reggie pitched in.

Directing his gaze to the ground, Willie puzzled for a minute.

“Why would I be dead?” he asked, looking back up at Alex.

For a minute Alex simply gazed at him wordlessly.

“I don’t know,” he said. There was a pause as both of them finally looked at each other, fully aware that this was real. And then Alex threw his arms around Willie to return the hug. Willie had to raise himself up on his toes to avoid falling over, and he tightened his grip to remain steady. He felt joy spread through his whole torso and breathed a sigh of relief as hands tangled into his hair. “But that doesn’t matter. I’m so happy to see you.”

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #fanfic #jatp fanfic #willex #alive au #sunset curve #alex mercer #willie #luke patterson #reggie peters #bobby wilson #julie molina #flynn taylor #caleb covington #viva las vegas #unexpected meeting #fiddlepickdouglas

[vs-redemption]

This is the fourth piece out of seven written for the one year anniversary collaboration event for the @konoblog-simps discord. I encourage everyone to check out the masterlist for today's prompt and support the other creators. Some content might not be suitable for minors so please pay attention to the warnings.

Prompt: Song Piece (Tooru Oikawa x Reader)

Word Count: 1.6K Warnings: Mentions of alcohol

Song: Case Of The Ex - Mya I'm old, just like this song, so I apologize if you don't know it. I provided a link if you wanna check out the song/video.

It took a certain kind of person to date a guy like Tooru Oikawa. It wasn’t for the faint hearted for sure. First of all, you had to be fine with long absences since he traveled so much for work. If he wasn’t off competing against the best teams in the world, he was spending an absurd amount of time in training camps and practices. His career as a pro volleyball player alone would put strain on any relationship but the obstacles didn’t end there. Oikawa was more than just an incredible athlete. He was also known for being one of the most attractive male sports stars on the planet. He had a huge female fan base and had appeared on a disturbing number of magazine covers for his looks alone. Anyone who dated him would have to share his attention with every single other person who thought they might have a chance with the devilishly handsome man. It would take someone awfully secure in themselves to withstand pressure like that constantly looming over them.

“Hey cutie! Can I buy you a drink?”

The first time you met Oikawa was unfortunately during a bar crawl for a friend’s birthday. It wasn’t the type of thing you’d normally participate in, but you endured it this time because of the special occasion. You were already at your third stop of the night and ready to go home when a ridiculously tall, obnoxiously attractive man appeared next to you.

“I think you already did,” you tell him while holding up the glass in your hand. “Wasn’t it you and your buddies that bought a round for my friend’s birthday?”

“Yeah, but that was a while ago,” he tilts his head curiously at you. “Don’t you need another by now?”

“I’m pacing myself,” you tell him flatly. “Thank you though.”

“I’m Tooru Oikawa,” he smiles and spreads his arms, lifting his chin proudly and reminding you of a peacock showing off and you laugh.

“I know.”

As the night dragged on, you continued chatting with the famous volleyball player as your friends continued with their shenanigans. You could admit that conversation with Oikawa was easy, and he definitely made the night more interesting. He was cute and charming, not to mention rich and famous, but you knew you didn’t have the energy to get involved with someone like that in any capacity. You allowed yourself some light banter, figuring he could just move on to flirting with someone else once you parted ways.

“How about a date?” he asks you once your friend signals you that it was time to head to the next stop of the night.

“I don’t date pretty boys.” You reply apologetically, a hint of amusement in your voice.

“How about meeting for coffee as friends?” he quips without any hesitation.

“Are you serious?” You ask and he nods while pulling his phone out from his pocket. You shake your head, pushing his phone away with a mischievous smile on your face. “I’ll tell you the time and place,” you tell him. “If you actually show up, then I’ll give you my number.”

What you hadn’t known was that Tooru Oikawa was persistent when he knew what he wanted. Not only did he show up to the designated place on time, but he also kept the conversation light and friendly since you’d been adamant about it not being a date. As promised, you exchanged numbers and saw no reason to refuse when he asked to meet up again soon.

Oikawa wasted no time in integrating himself into your daily life. At first, having regular correspondence with him made it easy to forget his celebrity status. He never acted like the hot playboy he was made out to be in the media. He never seemed too proud to send you goofy selfies of himself, or tell you about something embarrassing that had happened to him in one of his practices. When he was too busy to meet you in person, he scheduled time to do video calls. It surprised you that he never seemed to lose interest. The way he took his time to let you really get to know him and build up a mutual trust made it difficult to say no the next time he asked you on an actual date.

“I know my volleyball is going to make things tough,” he’d admitted from the very start, and you respected that he could acknowledge that. The first step in overcoming the hurdle was admitting it existed in the first place. He was more than willing to talk and compromise as much as you needed though, continuing to make you feel better about entering into a relationship with him. After all, despite your efforts to remain rational, you’d ended up falling head over heels for the idiot.

Being with Oikawa was too good to be true. You’d known going into the relationship how busy he was, and although you were fine being on your own sometimes, he still made sure you never felt neglected. Hardly a day went by without at least a phone call since he claimed that going to bed without hearing your voice was impossible for him. He was so cheesy sometimes, but you appreciated his transparency. Even dealing with his popularity turned out to be less of a problem than you’d imagined. Seeing all the comments and likes on his posts never made you feel jealous. In fact, it made you happy to see your boyfriend getting the amount of love and attention you knew he deserved. He never made a big deal about it and did everything in his power to make sure you knew he only had eyes for you.

“Good night, my love!” He smiles and pulls your face into his hands, pressing a kiss to your mouth before yawning and snuggling into the blankets next to you.

“Night, pretty boy,” you reply with a teasing smile that makes him pout. “Stop,” you poke his cheek, “You know I love you.”

“Mm,” he hums happily. “Love you too.”

Sometimes it still blew your mind knowing Tooru Oikawa was your boyfriend, but as you curled up next to him and slowly drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t imagine anyone else making you feel as happy or as loved as he could.

“Do you understand what time it is?” The sound of Oikawa’s voice pulled you back from the depths of sleep and you blink your eyes tiredly, the numbers on your alarm clock coming into focus and revealing that it was still the middle of the night. “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He was clearly on the phone with someone, and before you could roll over and ask him if everything was okay, you hear him whisper the caller’s name. Your heart immediately drops to your stomach, knowing right away who he was talking to. When you’d finally decided to give your heart to Oikawa, you’d thought you’d taken everything into account. His career. His fame. His fans. For some reason it had never occurred to you to worry about his exes.

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” You could tell Oikawa felt awkward by the tone of his voice. “Do you really think I’m the right person to talk to though? We’re not together anymore.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and try to calm yourself. He’d never given you a reason not to trust him before, and it wasn’t his fault if his ex was calling him in the middle of the night. Oikawa had told you about them before though, and you couldn’t help the memories that sprung up from those conversations. You knew how much they’d meant to him, and how they’d hurt him when they left, giving him an ultimatum between their relationship and his volleyball career. It had made you mad to hear about that. Loving Oikawa meant accepting all of him, including his love for volleyball, and you could never imagine asking him to give it up for you. Still, if even a hint of his feelings for his ex still existed inside him, who knew what talking to them again might mean for you.

“I can’t do this right now,” Oikawa’s tone was getting impatient. “I don’t know. Maybe. Fine. Goodnight.” You hear him set his phone back on the nightstand and let out a sigh. After a moment, he lays back down and tries to get comfortable.

“Tooru?” you whisper.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up,” you listen for any hints of guilt or panic in his voice. “Did you hear all that?”

“Kind of,” you weren’t going to lie.

“I shouldn’t have even answered,” he admits softly while snaking an arm around your waist. “It’s just been so long and I was surprised.”

“Is everything all right?” you ask.

“I guess so,” his words come out muffled against your back. “Let’s just go back to sleep, okay?”

“Okay.” You wanted to ask him if you had anything to worry about, and if he planned on getting in touch with them again. You had so many questions that you knew were rooted in insecurity, so you held back from asking so as not to insult the trust you’d built up over your time together. You’d handled every other obstacle in your relationship so far, so hopefully this one wouldn’t cause too much disruption either. At the end of the day, it was up to Oikawa to choose who he wanted by his side. And until he gave you a reason to believe otherwise, you decided to just be thankful that, for the moment, that person seemed to be you.

#Tooru Oikawa x Reader #Haikyuu x Reader #Tooru Oikawa #Haikyuu #Discord Collab #Cindy's Writing

[horansqueen]

Stuck With You - Chapter 5

Chapter 5 : Hey, Soul Sister

🡪chapter 1  🡪chapter 2  🡪chapter 3  🡪chapter 4

College Enemies To Lovers AU

characters // masterlist // instagrams // mood board 

I knew when we collided You're the one I have decided who's one of my kind

I can be myself now finally In fact there's nothing I can't be

I knew I wouldn't forget you And so I went and let you blow my mind

You gave my life direction A game-show love connection We can't deny

click here to be on the update list

                                     Louis' room was exactly like mine but with posters of bands and football players. I let my eyes roam on the white walls before they fell on him again as he sat on his bed. He tapped the place next to him and I sent him a small smile before joining him, sitting a bit further and leaning against the wall.

"So, what do you wanna drink?" he asked, opening the small fridge next to his bed.

"Beer is fine." I just said, shrugging a shoulder as I let my palms brush against the black comforter i was sitting on.

I noticed his bed was a mess and so was his room. There were books everywhere, a box of pizza on his desk and dirty clothes covering the floor.

"Thank god I didn't end up sharing a room with you." I added with a chuckle, taking the beer he was handing me.

"Why? Don't tell me your anal like Neil is."

I frowned but my lips curled a bit. I had noticed that Niall's side of the room was clean and in order but hearing Louis tell me he was actually anal about it was interesting. I took note of it, adding it to the mental list of 'things I know about my roommate', which was, let's face it, a very short list for now.

"Actually, i'm just as messy as you are, but now you got me worried about how Niall could react if I leave my stuff around." I admitted with a smile. "Perhaps i'm gonna try to keep my side of the room clean."

"Cheers." Louis chuckled. "Niall would be pissed."

I clinked my beer against his and we took a sip. I kept staring at him as his eyes fell on the bottle in his hands. He moved it slightly but I knew he was looking at it without really seeing it.

"He was pissed, actually." I pointed out, leaning my head on the wall and bringing my knees up, my feet flat on the bed. "He's mad at me and I have no idea why."

"No, Devon, he was angry at me, not at you. You did nothing wrong."

I was not sure he was right but I pressed my lips together and tilted my head. "And what did you do to him?"

Louis chuckled but this time, there was no amusement in his tone. He was sad, I could feel it. I wanted to be there for him but I didn't know what to do except listen to him. I was never good at giving advice, or receiving advice, actually. I always ended up doing what I thought was right and realizing way too late that it was not the right thing to do. There was no way I could really help Louis and I knew it.

"It's just a bunch of little things, you know? Realizing his dream of being a professional footballer, having the girl he likes falling for me..." he stopped himself and looked up in my eyes. ".. despite myself, of course. And just... not being there for him when he needed him the most."

Louis sighed loudly and swallowed his beer, putting it away near the pizza box before leaning his head on the wall too and closing his eyes. "I was a fucking bad friend. I still am. I'm still trying to be close to him despite knowing very well he doesn't want me near."

I licked my lips, feeling my heart twist in my chest. It just confirmed that I really couldn't do anything to help Louis and I hated it.

"I think Niall doesn't want many people near." I pointed out. "Has he always been like that?"

Louis smiled more and opened his eyes, shaking his head slightly. "No, not at all. Niall was always the light of the party, the one everyone loves, always surrounded by so many people it was hard to actually get his attention." he turned to me and smiled. "I'm the opposite."

"Me too." I let my lips curled.

I didn't want to admit it, but the fact that everyone was so in awe when it came to Niall actually fascinated me. People like him, to whom everyone seemed to be drawn, were so interesting, and at the same time, I could totally understand why. There was something emanating from Niall that even got to me after only a few days. So yea, he was the most annoying little shit I've ever met, but I still wanted his attention.

I cleared my throat, a bit embarrassed by the thought and very glad that it stayed in my head. Okay, Niall was intriguing, but he had also mentioned that I intrigued him too, and I didn't know what it meant.

"You either love Niall, or pretend that you don't."

I chuckled and raised my eyebrows at Louis' words. "What?"

"I'm serious!" he laughed a bit, turning his body my way. "Everyone who has said they hated Niall didn't really hate him, or if they did, after a while, they ended up liking him. He's just got the effect on people. I've always been jealous of that."

We remained silent for about a minute and Louis finally got up, grabbing the beer from my hands. "We're gonna need something stronger than that."

I laughed a bit and he got a bottle of vodka, serving me some in a plastic cup before sitting back on his bed, slightly closer to me. I watched him take a long sip and blinked a few times.

"So tell me, Devon, why did you come to this school? What happened at your old college that was so bad you had to leave?"

I breathed in, feeling my heartbeats accelerate, and drank half my glass before grimacing and coughing, almost choking on my drink. It made Louis smirk and he raised his eyebrows as my eyes watered, due to the feeling of burn in my throat.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

I looked inside my cup, watching the transparent liquid move as my hand shook slightly, and finally pressed my lips together, not daring to look up at my new friend.

"Let's just say I trusted the wrong person, dated them and ended up with a broken heart."

"Darling, that's everyone's story." Louis replied after a shot moment of silence.

He drank what was left in his glass before filling it again and I decided to do the same. I watched as he poured more vodka in my glass too and sighed louder than intended. I was getting past the tipsy stage and I wanted to share everything with Louis but instead, I just stared in his eyes and sent him a fond smile.

"I know we just met but.. that day in the hall when you talked to me for the first time? I felt something. Like, a connection or something. Have you ever heard about sister souls?"

He chuckled in his glass and swallowed hard before sending me an amused smile. "Like the song?"

"Sort-of." I rolled my eyes. "Except for the 'love' part."

"So you're telling me you're not in love with me, is that it?"

"I barely know you." I smiled more.

"But you know me enough to feel a connection."

I chuckled and rolled my eyes again, making him laugh. "Come on, Louis!"

"I'm just playing with you, Dev." he said, licking his lips. "I know what sister souls are, and I feel that connection too, if you wanted to know."

"Good." I replied low, nodding a few times before looking down at my glass again. "Besides, I'm never gonna fall in love again."

"You're not the one who decides that, love." he let out in a soft tone, making me look up at him. He raised his eyebrows and shrugged a shoulder. "If it happens then it happens. You've got no control over it."

"Trust me, I'll make sure of it." I argued, blinking a few times and feeling suddenly tired. "Love hurts too much and when you give your heart to someone, you become this vulnerable wreck human being. Not worth the pain."

I lied down on Louis' bed and yawned, letting my eyes close, feeling half conscious and right before I fell asleep, I heard Louis say something that I didn't have the strength to answer.

"You sound just like Niall."

----

Niall had ignored me for exactly eight days after that day I left the room to go spend time in Louis' and ended up falling asleep in his bed. He was back to throwing hurtful comments directed at me without really addressing to me personally. I was sad and it hurt me way more than I thought it would but I decided to pretend I didn't care and started playing the same game he was playing.

We ended up living together without acknowledging each other and I couldn't remember the last time Niall actually had looked at me. I didn't know why he was acting like that but it just proved to me that it was not Louis he was mad at. It was actually me, and I didn't know why. I also didn't want to ask, especially that I was pretty sure he wouldn't answer the question, or even answer me at all.

I had been busy working on my last painting and he was spending as much time as possible away from our room. I didn't dare following him but I was pretty sure he was working on his song in the music room, or shagging some random girls wherever he could.

The morning of our visit to the museum, however, I was surprised to hear his voice. We hadn't met with Daxia and Asher to talk about our project but I knew today was the day and perhaps, he knew he would have to sort of interact with me.

I saw him put a few things in his pockets and grab his backpack, zipping it quickly, but I still pretended I was not looking at him. The truth was, the longer he was ignoring me, the more I was looking at him, and the more I spent time wondering why he hated me so much.

"Look, we're both going to the same place." he explained with a sigh, not even looking at me. "I know you don't have a car, so, maybe you need a ride? I mean," he sighed again, stopping everything he was doing and closing his eyes. "You can ride with me."

I stood there for a few seconds, a bit surprised and speechless by his proposition, before finally blinking a few times and licking my lips. "Oh, uhm, yes, thank you, that's very nice of you." I agreed, stuttering a bit and letting a small smile spread on my lips.

"Alright. Cool." he just replied, putting his backpack on his shoulder as I grabbed my stuff quickly.

I followed him outside, remaining slightly behind him, and as we walked down the stairs, a few other guys waved at him.

"Hey Horan, are you gonna be there for the party this saturday?"

He turned on his heels when he was down the stairs and started walking backwards. "Wouldn't miss that for anything!"

He chuckled and I stared at the way he was smiling. A lock of his hair fell on his forehead again and it twisted in a cute swirl. I almost tripped on my feet but gripped the banister to get my balance back but unfortunately, it caught Niall's attention and for the very first time in days, his eyes met mine. He frowned a bit and chuckled before shaking his head slightly.

"Did you forget how to walk, Devie?"

I raised my nose up at the nickname he gave me but decided not to comment on it, knowing that openly be annoyed by it would be the perfect reason for him to use it again. I breathed in and tried not to sigh but he noticed and raised his eyebrows.

"Oh wait, it's because of me, isn't it?" he said with a smirk as his dimple dug deeper in his chin. "I look too good? You can't handle it?"

"Funny." I replied, my eyes getting smaller as I looked at him. God, he was annoying. And it annoyed me even more that the reason I almost tripped was because of that stupid hair lock falling on his forehead and therefore, there was some truth in his words. "This is gonna be a long ride." I muttered as we stepped outside.

He was still amused when we entered his car and although I was still annoyed, I couldn't help but let my lips curl as my eyes traveled on his car. It looked amazing from outside, and it seemed amazing to drive, too. When I looked up, he was sending me an amused smile and I pressed my lips together.

"You alright?"

I cleared my throat and shrugged. "Like I said, I love your car."

He started it and raised his eyebrows at me. "It's just a Jeep."

"It's literally my dream car." I admitted low, regretting it immediately after and glancing at the window.

"Then buy one."

I chuckled and rolled my eyes, turning to look at him again, staring at his face like he was an alien. "Do you remember how much you paid for it? I don't have that kind of money."

"I do." he finally replied after a few minutes of silence. "I bought it with my first paycheck as a model. I never had that kind of money before."

"So, you're a model." I repeated even if I already knew. He glanced at me and I did the same, and it made the left corner of his lips raise up.

"Yes, I am." he replied with a chuckle. "Me and my double chin, darling."

I smiled more at him, realizing how much fun and nice he could be sometimes, and just licked my lips. "What double chin?"

As an answer, he just smiled at me and turned on the radio. I started laughing when the Train song started playing and he turned to me with a frown.

"No it's just, I was talking with Louis the other day, and we talked about this song."

"That's not really the kind of music Louis listens to." Niall explained, raising his eyebrows as his eyes remained on the road.

"No I just asked him if he knew what sister souls were and he mentioned it." I shrugged, feeling suddenly a bit embarrassed. I was drunk and perhaps I had express a bit more of my feelings than I should have.

"That's a weird conversation to have." Niall simply pointed out with a frown.

I knew he was curious and I licked my lips. "I just feel... I mean, I barely know him, but that's how I feel towards him."

Although I could only see his profile, I noticed how his facial expression suddenly changed and I held my breath. He didn't answer, but he also stopped glancing at me and I didn't see a smile on his face for the rest of the ride. He parked and as he was undoing his belt, I turned to him and sighed.

"Why were you mad at me the other day? We were talking and Louis knocked and suddenly, you were rude to me."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." he replied, once again avoiding my gaze.

He got out of the car and I quickly did the same, grabbing my bag and following him. I had to walk quickly to keep the pace and I sighed.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." I argued, holding the strap of my bag so tight that my fingers turned white. "You're doing the same thing right now. Louis thinks it's because of him but I know it's me. Why do you hate me so much?"

He stopped and turned to me so fast that my heart jumped in my chest. The way he stared at me made me swallow hard and in the three seconds it took him to talk, I had the time to notice that his eyes had turned the exact same shade of blue from his shirt. Why did I notice things like that?

"Look, just because we had a small conversation about futile stuff doesn't mean we're friends now. It doesn't mean I like you, or that I have to like you. It doesn't mean I care about you, what you do, who you befriend and what you want. In fact, I really don't care, okay? I'm stuck with you in that fucking room, and i'm stuck with you for that stupid project, but spending time with you is irritating. You're the most annoying person I've ever had the misfortune to meet, and I can't wait to get rid of you!"

It was a reflex. A simple reflex. I didn't have time to think about it, I just slapped him as he threw all those mean words at me, my hand hitting his cheek way harder than I thought it would. It took him by surprise and his lips parted as I held my breath, not really believing what I had done. After the shock had passed, he scoffed and shook his head.

"Great." he let out. "Stay the fuck away from me." he added, pointing his finger in my direction and I just took a step back as he left.

I realized that my heart was racing when I finally breathed in deeply but somehow, I couldn't stop the ache in my chest. My heart felt like it was stuck in a vice and I was not sure if it was because I had slapped him, or because of the hard words he had thrown at me. It made me realize that it was the very first time I actually touched Niall and I looked down, turning my hand to look at my palm. That was not the kind of relationship I wanted with anyone and I knew I should do something, but I had no idea what it was. I also couldn't force him to like me, and I closed my eyes, trying to get back to my senses.

There was no reason for me to want him to appreciate me but I did and realizing that made me a bit mad. I had promised myself that I wouldn't be this weak person anymore, and that I didn't need the approbation or the love from anyone, but the truth was, I was still human, and letting Niall be hot and cold with me over and over again was affecting me more than I thought and hoped it would.

I felt my phone vibrate in my back pocket and grabbed it, feeling my heart sink in my chest when I saw it was from Daxia. For some reason, I had wished for someone else... and that thought made me press my lips together.

'Where are you?' I read before blinking a few times.

I checked the time, noticing that I was late, and let out a low 'fuck!' before I ran inside. Deep down, I just hoped that this visit at the museum wouldn't be too awkward and hopefully, things would get solved between Niall and I. I thought about asking Louis but I decided to keep him out of this. I was a big girl, I could work this out by myself, right?

#niall horan #niall horan smut #niall horan fluff #niall horan fan fic #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan au #niall horan enemies to lovers #niall horan story #niall horan writing #my fanfics #swy

[capybaraonabicycle]

A Family Wedding - Part 3

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

Rating: Teen

Summary: Jenny spends some time with her parents and grandparents and starts to understand the family’s history

Warnings: Mentions of guns and daggers and some innuendo

Words: ~3900

AO3

They danced. They drank. They laughed. The Doctor forced everyone to claim the tube man was the best dance move in all of time and space. Jenny danced with her mother, then her other mother, her grandmother, her grandfather and then a couple of strangers, among them Wilf and the bouncer from earlier. She caught a glimpse of Martha again, who gave her a thumbs up from across the room.

Eventually the dance floor got crowded and Jenny got separated from her family while waltzing with a young lady wearing a black fringe and a wicked grin. The music had just faded, and Jenny had ended the dance by twirling the other woman away from her, when someone laid a hand on her shoulder. She had barely noticed her family’s absence before but now it got startingly obvious. Her hand automatically made its way towards her right thigh, where her emergency gun was hidden. She forced herself to take a deep, calming breath, then she turned around.

It was the Doctor, River close behind, and Jenny immediately relaxed when she saw their excited faces. She felt a little silly, having expected the worst on instinct. But she was a soldier after all, and it didn’t seem like they had noticed anyway.

“We want to get some food” the Doctor raised her voice over the slowly amplifying music, “You wanna join us?”

She took a look at the other woman, whose hand was still in Jenny’s grasp, and her smile widened.

“Hi, Christina!” she called out to her, “So glad you could make it! I hope you haven’t nicked anything off my wedding guests.”

“You know me, Doctor” Christina answered with a chuckle. Then she let go off Jenny, bid her goodbyes and disappeared into the crowd with suspicious speed.

“Well, we’ll notice later what she’s taken” the Doctor shrugged, extending her hand to Jenny again, “Dinner?”

“Leave it to our daughter to dance with the resident thief of all people” River remarked with overt pride in her voice while Jenny accepted the Doctor’s hand.

“Where are my grandparents?” Jenny asked, looking around. They were nowhere to be found.

“I think I saw them dancing with Clara and Ashildr earlier?” the Doctor said, and River nodded.

“Don’t worry, Sweetheart” she said, “They will find us soon enough.”

They led her back to the buffet where they started heaping all sorts of alien food onto their plates. There were bowls of green and blue pasta that smelled delicious, transparent balls made of ice inside which little flames were burning, tiny bits of sushi with rice the size of sand grains, fruit slices in all colours and shapes, giant edible blossoms and…

“Fish Fingers and Custard” the Doctor exclaimed happily, reaching for a big plate of brownish sticks, “Look! They made Fish Fingers and Custard for us!”

“Of course, they did” River sighed.

“What’s ‘Fish Fingers and Custard’?” Jenny asked despite River shaking her head warningly. The Doctor had already dipped two of the sticks into a bowl of a yellow-white cream and stuffed them into her mouth.

“Delishoush” she mumbled while chewing, holding the plate out to Jenny, “You shoul’ ‘ake shome.”

“You should be careful” River argued, glancing at the food suspiciously, “It’s not for everyone.”

“You - uhm…” the Doctor swallowed, “You’ll love it, I’m sure. You’ve got my genes, after all. My genes, my tastes.”

“Yeah, right, Sweetie” River snorted, “Take one look at the way Jenny dresses and the way you dress and tell me again that she hasn’t got my genes instead.”

“Hey!” the Doctor complained waving another fish finger at River, “You said you liked the tux.”

“Yes, the tux” River nodded.

“What do you mean?” Jenny asked River, deciding to take a few fish fingers and carefully putting some custard onto her plate, at a safe distance from the fish, “How have I got your genes?”

“I just meant that your dress is gorgeous” River gushed, lightly touching the satin bow, “Where did you get it?”

“New New New New York” Jenny said, blushing happily, “I…stole it.”

The burst of happiness that had come with her mum’s compliment was nothing against the one that hit her now, when River’s eyes lit up and she decided, “Okay, you’ve got to tell us that story!” while the Doctor nodded approvingly.

Jenny had imagined what it would be like to tell her dad about her adventures. Had imagined how he would smile at the new worlds she had been to, how he would be amazed by all she had seen, proud maybe. She had not imagined having two mums hanging onto her every word, exchanging conspiratorial or touched glances from time to time, giving her space to tell her stories while they munched their food. But it was perfect, it was fantastic. After Jenny finished tellling the story about her dress, the Doctor asked how she found their wedding, then they wanted to know how she got her space shuttle and one thing lead to another and she was telling them all about her life.

In the beginning, Jenny tested the waters, held back about her more dangerous stunts. She feared her mums might get upset, even scold her for not being more careful. Quickly, she figured out however, that especially River got prouder the more reckless Jenny was behaving in the tales. The Doctor frowned at the one or other dangerous situation, but she didn’t say anything and her eyes lit up whenever Jenny managed to think her way out of them. Jenny guessed that her mums might behave differently when they would be in a dangerous situation with her instead of just hearing about adventures that had obviously ended well. Though for now it reassured her, that neither of them seemed to mind her adventurous stride, but actually found it endearing.

River eventually interrupted to remind her to finish the food.

“Your ice-flames have melted already, Darling” she pointed out. Both hers and the Doctor’s plate were empty while Jenny had barely had a bite. They had sat down at a table in a quiet corner of a balcony and Jenny’s mums were sitting across from her, holding hands on the white tablecloth.

“Just eat the Custard Creams” the Doctor suggested. She had piled a few of them onto Jenny’s plate just before leaving the buffet. “They don’t get cold or melt.”

“And are not just as peculiar as Fish Fingers and Custard” River added, running her thumb over the Doctor’s hand as if to make up for her words.

Of course, now Jenny had to try the fish fingers first.

“And? What do you think?” the Doctor asked curiously.

“Hm” Jenny hummed thoughtfully, “I think it might take some getting used to.”

“Told you, you had my tastes” River shrugged, “Not just clothes-wise.”

“I do like your tux as well, mum” Jenny mused nodding towards the Doctor.

“The tux is pretty” River agreed, “But you wouldn’t believe the other stuff I’ve seen her wearing over the years. Well, at least that makes it double as satisfying when I take them off.”

Jenny gulped. That was not what she wanted to hear her mum saying.

“Well done, Sweetie” the Doctor huffed, “Now you’ve made both of us embarrassed. Me and the kid.”

“Who says that wasn’t intentional” River grinned and Jenny hid her face in her hands. That only led to River chuckling.

“Chin up, Love” she said, “Mums are meant to be embarrassing. Oh, I can tell we’ll all have a lot of fun together.”

“Oh, yes, we will for sure”, the Doctor added, and Jenny perked up. Did that mean she would get to stay with them? Forever? Nothing had indicated that her mums would want to get rid of her again, but they had not officially invited her along either. Before she could ask, however, the Doctor had stood up.

“I’m gonna get some more” she exclaimed, grabbing her empty plate, “I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

She hurried off and Jenny felt her face fall.

“Are you alright?” she heard River ask gently. She turned and saw her mum look at her with a concerned gaze.

“Yeah” Jenny tried to play it off, searching for that smile that had been on her face seconds ago. River reached out a hand for her.

“I won’t make you answer me” she promised, “But I won’t judge either if you want to tell.”

“Thanks” Jenny murmured, putting her hand into River’s, “It’s just…”

She stopped, unsure how to continue.

“Is it because of me teasing?” River tried to help, and Jenny hurried to shake her head.

“No, that’s fine” she said, “Well, it’s very uncomfortable, but in a good way. Like you said, mums are meant to be embarrassing.”

“Good” River smirked, “Because otherwise I would really have to hold myself back. And I don’t know how long I can keep that up for.”

“That’s it, that’s what I’m worried about” Jenny admitted, “Do you…do you really believe I will get to stay with you?”

“Why shouldn’t you?” River frowned, “I just assumed you would travel with us now. Only if you want to, of course.”

“I’d love to” Jenny beamed, and her mum pressed her hand, “I just don’t know…last time mum did offer to take me with her, but…not initially. What if she doesn’t want to anymore?”

“I’m sure she does” River smiled, “But you can just ask her when she comes back, Darling. No need to be nervous. I can tell she adores you.”

Jenny released a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding, and River’s smile turned playful again.

“Now, what was that gesture about, when we startled you?” she asked, nodding towards Jenny’s right side. She understood that River must have noticed her reaching for her gun on the dance floor.

“It’s silly” Jenny murmured, “I didn’t actually assume I would get attacked at your wedding, but I…like to be prepared.”

“Emergency weapon?” her mum asked knowingly, reaching for her hairdo. She pulled out one of the pins, holding the miniature blade out to Jenny. “I tend to go for hidden guns, too, but Jenny and Vastra thought this was more fitting for a wedding.”

Her gaze was unfittingly tender while she watched Jenny turn the dagger in her hands.

“It’s beautiful” she found, and River nodded.

“And deadly” she added, taking the pin back.

“Assassin training” she murmured, while she attached the pin to her hair again, “Never get rid of it, do you?”

“You tell me” Jenny shrugged, “I was not even trained to be a soldier. I was just born like this.”

River pressed her hand again.

“I’m sorry” she said, “But taking a gun with you is a good instinct, I’d say. Has gotten me out of quite some tricky situations. And you as well if your stories are anything to go by.”

She looked over to the buffet where the Doctor was just leaving to come back to them, a new plate full of food in her hands.

“Maybe don’t tell your mum I’m encouraging weapon wielding” she said, winking at Jenny, “She doesn’t like guns.”

“I know” Jenny nodded, adding with a smirk, “She likes you, though.”

“And you!” River insisted, “And she will want you to stay. Just ask her.”

“Ask me what?” the Doctor demanded, letting her plate drop to the table. Jenny noticed that it mostly consisted of custard creams now. River pressed her hand encouragingly, giving her a pointed look.

“I wanted to ask” Jenny started, taking a deep breath, “If you want me to stay with you. You know, travel with both of you, in the TARDIS.”

“You don’t have to” the Doctor said immediately, “I am very happy you came to our wedding. I am not expecting you to stay with us, I’m sure you have way more interesting things to do.”

“Oh” Jenny said, disappointed, “I see.”

“I mean, I’ll be delighted whenever you want to visit” her mum continued, smiling bashfully, “And I would really, really like if you want to stay for a bit. But yeah, just if you want.”

“I do” Jenny hurried to say, once she understood her mum actually wanted her around, “I would really like to stay. As long as possible.”

“You would?” the Doctor asked and she sounded thrilled, “Really? You’ll come travel with us?”

“If I may” Jenny beamed.

“Of course, you may!” the Doctor exclaimed, turning towards River, “Did you hear that? She’ll stay!”

“You’re idiots, both of you” River chuckled, shaking her head. She had followed the conversation with growing amused exasperation and now she obviously couldn’t cope anymore. “Why do I love you?”

“Cause we’re your idiots” the Doctor grinned, kissing River’s cheek, which made her laugh.

“Right, it’s the corny lines” she agreed, kissing the Doctor’s temple, then Jenny’s, “Thanks for reminding me, Sweetie.”

“Corny is good” the Doctor babbled, “Always loved corn, I think. We should check if they have some here. It’s very high in fiber and protein. Did you know, that on Poosh they had a whole celebration centred on corn from the 24th to the 31st century? They only ate corn for a month every year and you know a month on Poosh…”

“Oh, shut up, Dear” River said fondly, taking the Doctor’s chin in her hands and silencing her with a gentle kiss.

“Here you are” they were interrupted by Rory’s relieved voice, “Amy, I’ve found them.”

Jenny’s grandparents were making their way towards them. Rory was walking a few steps in front of Amy who was catching up quickly.

“Okay, kids” she pronounced even before arriving at the table, “It’s our turn now. How about some grandma time, Jenny?”

___

It was a little hard to convince the Doctor to let Jenny go, but eventually she was following Amy and Rory towards the buffet again.

Her grandma seemed to have lost the vodka bottle in the meantime, but not her brilliant mood. She was skipping ahead of Jenny, their hands linked, and when she turned around to face her, Amy’s eyes were almost gleaming.

“Do you know what the best part about being a grandma is, Jenny?” she asked, and Jenny shook her head.

“What is?” she humoured her. Rory looked curious, too.

“You don’t have to be the responsible one” Amy said, “That’s the parents. They take care you don’t get into trouble. But grandparents? Grandparents are fun. They get you into trouble.”

“I don’t think that’s actually what grandparents do” Rory mused, “And I can see neither River nor the Doctor be the responsible one.”

“Yeah, thank god” Jenny quipped before she could think about it. Amy’s eyes lit up.

“That’s my kind of girl” she said.

“So, what do we do now?” Jenny asked, because she was sure Amy had a plan and couldn’t wait to boast about it. As an afterthought she added “…, grandma?”

For a moment it looked, like Amy was about to cry, but then she smiled again.

“We’re stealing the pudding.”

And so they did. Rory distracted the few guests that were near the buffet while Jenny followed Amy sneaking to the table. Amy handed her the giant bowl of something resembling mousse au chocolat, taking the pot of glittering white goo for herself and then they bolted. Someone seemed to notice, and they heard some angry voices calling after them, but they just ran faster, and no one bothered following. They stopped on a balcony, out of breath from the running and giggling and almost immediately dropping to the floor. Jenny found herself engulfed in a hug and held close to Amy, while they slowly recovered their breath.

When they broke apart, there were tears on Amy’s face, way more than the laughing could have caused.

“Sorry” she sniffed, drawing the sleeves of her blazer over her eyes.

“It’s alright” Jenny said, unsure how to respond.

“Yeah, it really is, it’s wonderful, actually” Amy nodded, drawing up her nose.

“Sorry” she repeated, “Ugh, this is embarrassing.”

“It’s really not” Jenny tried to reassure her, but Amy just made a face.

“Crying over nothing in front of your granddaughter?” she asked, “That is peak embarrassing, believe me.”

She sighed, running her hand through Jenny’s hair.

“It’s just” she started, her gaze becoming distant, “I never thought River would get kids. Well, I mainly never thought the Doctor would get kids and I didn’t think River would have children with anyone but them. But here you are.”

She smiled sadly, cupping Jenny’s cheek.

“And that’s wonderful, you’re wonderful” she continued, “It just made me think that I would have missed out on this. And that I will miss out on this, because quite frankly: I don’t think we will see each other again after tonight.”

“Why not?” Jenny felt a cold sensation in her stomach at these words. It reminded her of the last time she had thought she might find her dad just to be met with another dead end in a very unpleasant way.

“Because this is the first time the Doctor has met you again” Amy concluded, “And we’re not travelling with her anymore. And then you know Martha. Which means you met the Doctor for the first time before we started travelling with him. And that means the only interception of our timelines…is now.”

“But I can come visit your timelines, can’t I?” Jenny asked, confused.

“By the way your mum is looking at us” Amy sighed, “She doesn’t believe she will see us again. Something must have happened in her past, will happen to us, that prevents her from visiting us now. Maybe we got old, maybe we died, maybe we fought and never wanted to meet again, but something made her pick us up the moment she did as if that was the only possibility.”

“Well, I’m not my mum” Jenny said. She realised how defiant she sounded, but didn't really care. “And I will come visit you again. You’re my grandparents! I’m not going to abandon you.”

“Good” Amy said, her soft features hardening again in that mischievous way, Jenny had come to know, “I would expect nothing less. Us Pond-girls, we are fighters.”

“And I’m a Pond now, too?” Jenny asked, her enthusiasm coming back in a heartbeat.

“’Course you are” Amy grinned, reaching for the pudding, “Now, which one do you want to try first?”

“Hm” Jenny hummed, leaning over the bowls, when Rory rounded the corner, gasping for air.

“What-whatever you … decide” he wheezed, holding a small, metal object in her direction, “…Please-use a spoon.”

That made all of them chuckle and Rory dropped down next to them, pantingly handing out the cutlery. When he saw their teary faces, he looked concerned, but Amy just shook her head, and he didn’t ask.

“Madam Vastra wouldn’t stop talking to me” he complained instead, when he had gathered his breath, “I think she knew I was your accomplice and tried to punish me.”

“Aw, you poor man” Amy mocked in a silly voice, pressing a kiss to his cheek when he sulked.

“Thanks for having our back” she said, and Jenny nodded in agreement.

“You were awesome, grandpa” she claimed, and the use of the title alone seemed enough to shatter his bad mood.

“Well, now that that’s settled” Amy started, taking a very big spoon out of the pudding, “It is high time we tell you some embarrassing stories about your mums.”

Jenny perked up. Now that was a topic she could get behind.

“Oh, yeah” Rory nodded, “I’ve got tons of content on that.”

“You can go first” Amy allowed graciously, “But I warn you, I will throw in side-remarks.”

“Well” Rory smirked, thoughtfully turning his spoon in his hands while Jenny leaned forward to not miss a bit, “Let’s start with my stag party…”

___

Amy had just launched into a lament over the Doctor’s clothing choices - obviously she shared River’s ideas on that - when Jenny’s mums showed up on the balcony. They were in quite a compromising situation, the Doctor’s hands very low on Rivers back, River's lips on her neck and the Doctor's shirt pushed up very high by her wife’s hands. Her tux’s jacket was missing altogether, as was the bowtie.

Jenny shrieked at the sight, burying her face in Amy’s shoulder and Rory immediately covered his eyes, shouting “River!” and then “ouch!”, when he hit himself with his spoon. Amy remained unfazed and River as well. The Doctor however blushed deeply and hurried to pull her shirt down, Jenny noticed when she dared to look again.

“So, this is where all the dessert has disappeared to” River remarked. She was a little out of breath but that did not cloud her smugness.

“Pudding!” the Doctor exclaimed delightedly, “I love pudding!”

She was not embarrassed at all anymore, rushing to Jenny’s side. Startled she gave her mum the spoon and then the Doctor was munching the food, very pleased with the turn of events.

“It’s really good” she found, holding out the spoon to her wife, “You wanna try?”

“No, thank you, Sweetie” River said, sitting down between her and Rory.

“This is what you call fulfilling your grandparental duty?” she asked her parents amusedly, “Interesting.”

“This and telling embarrassing stories” Rory answered proudly, and Amy nodded.

“Got a problem with that?” she challenged, and River shook her head.

“Only with the fact this balcony wasn’t as secluded as I thought” she sighed.

“Mum!” Jenny covered her ears on instinct and River’s gaze became very tender.

“She’s already called me ‘grandpa’ four times” Rory whispered to her, loud enough for all of them to hear.

Jenny blushed when the four adults turned towards her, love written over their faces.

“I’m just so glad, I met you” she mumbled, “I’ve got to make use of it, it’s the first time I’ve got family.”

The Doctor dropped her spoon back into the bowl and reached for her hand.

“And we’re very glad you came here today” she said, and Jenny’s breath hitched when she noticed how earnest she sounded, “Especially me.”

“Thanks, mum” she said.

Her mum gave her hand a short squeeze. Then she frowned and turned to Rory with an accusing expression on her face, “Now what embarrassing stories were you on about?”

Amy and Rory were very happy to recount the tales and add some new ones. Surprisingly the Doctor and River were quick to join in, throwing in remarks and anecdotes. Jenny was listening intently, leaned back against her grandmother. Amy had slung her arm around her, holding her comfortably and occasionally toying with her dress or her hair.

At some point the discussion turned more serious and Jenny and the Doctor explained how they had met. How she had been born from a machine as a soldier and then died to save her dad from being shot and how that had led to them splitting up. In return the Ponds explained their family history, how they had also been separated shortly after River’s birth.

Jenny understood that her mum was even more similar to herself than she had suspected. And while her heart ached for young River and all she had had to endure, it also made her comprehend why they had clicked immediately and why her mum and grandparents were this ready to integrate her into the family. She gathered how her family was marked by trauma but still loving each other, still fighting to be together, still finding moments of happiness like this one. And it made her immensely proud to be a part of it.

Thank you so much for reading! Just one more part to go :)

This story is inspired by the fic ‘The Wedding of River Song’. Go check it out!

#dw #doctor who #fanfiction #a family wedding #the doctor/river song #amy pond/rory williams #jenny #the doctor's daughter #thirteenth doctor #river song #amy pond #rory williams #guns #daggers

[chillorious]

✨My abusive Mother✨

The title of this entry says it all;

I have an abusive mother. And I suppose it’s rather strange to say out loud because for so many years I managed to convince myself that she was anything but. When you have a mother, you’re told a lot of things growing up, you’re told that your mother is someone who is supposed to look out for you, someone strong and dependable in your life whenever you and your family need a stern but loving guidance. Someone sturdy you want to lean on when times are tough. They are the shelter in a house, a protector. The one who has earned your respect for raising you up to be more than you thought you could be. Or in simpler terms, a mother is supposed to present a good example.

My mother was hardly a mother to me. I call her mother because that’s the only label I’ve ever given her and I respect her because I was raised to respect everyone, but making a mistake my mother often presented a poor example for her husband and child, whether she intended to or not. I can’t pinpoint when the abuse really started but I know it’s been going on for what may as well be a lifetime. She often laid her hands on me, but my mother also was and still is the type to verbally cut you down to nothing. She had a tongue like a knife. Well I know she’s been through a lot in her life and I know those experiences manifested into something foul, it hangs off my mothers back, whispering little things here and there, poisoning her mind, spirit and speech. She’s a woman that hurts, and has been hurt by people she was supposed to trust and depend on. “I have to understand that” or at least that’s what I always told myself. When family hurts you, you’d naturally feel inclined to defend their actions, you try to convince your friends that they aren’t so bad you even try to convince yourself as a means of rejecting the pain, but abuse is abuse, no matter what color you choose to paint over it. And for a while, my mother was a pitch black silhouette, a figure that I tried to touch but instead all I got to see was a cast shadow of the person she could have been but decided she wouldn’t be. Hardly the mother figure, but often the abuser. But no amount of experience can justify abusing your daughter.

Now I know I’ve been beating around the bush and holding off on explaining everything she did, but it’s hard. And that’s another thought I’m sure a lot of you in and outside my shoes have had. It’s hard to come out and talk about what’s been done to you. It’s hard to admit the truth. But that’s why I decided that I wouldn’t keep quiet anymore. No more fear or worry or talking myself out of all the strife in my mind as if that will make it vanish. I will be for you, what my mother wasn’t for me. Honest, transparent, and a good example. When I was a kid, my mother tyrannized me. Yes, the woman I was raised by had been violating and torturing me. And yes that’s something I blocked out for a long time and suspected but recently often got confirmed with. She didn’t look at me as though I were a child, she made me responsible for everything that happened and I were her punching bag whenever she needed one. She also made me responsible to take care for her broken heart. I remember those faces she made towards me, certain gestures and words that encouraged her desire of killing me. She had hands like barbed wire, everything she touched on me bled. She’d linger near my person and kept me close in a way that sincerely gave me nightmares both as a kid and as an adult, the kind that nearly made me lose sleep. I won’t give any nasty and horrifying details, they wouldn’t benefit any of us anyway but I need you to recognize that a child shouldn’t know that kind of fear and confusion, ever. It just isn’t okay.

In the years that followed my mother tried to force me into a mold. From the beginning, she wanted me to do everything she said, to be dressed in a specific way, surround myself with certain company but above all, she wanted my absolute obedience. And for a while, you could say she had it, but time changes us all and I guess it started when I recorded her torturing me so I had proof it happened, because that’s what gaslighting is. She made sure that I would never believe myself and my gut feeling. She managed to make me believe that she never hurt me which only confused me more. Eventually my mannerisms, clothes and interest took a path apart from what she laid out for me. Which is why she started to demean me at every turn. My mother would talk down to me and if she wasn’t shaming my decisions, she was shaming my very person. She talked behind my back but most times when I was around and was able to hear every word. And she knew it, so the words always found their way back to me in the end. In my mothers eyes I was an irresponsible, lazy disappointment, I was a liar that was always sneaking off to do bad things with awful people. I can’t say I was a saint I’m not perfect but not all my actions were worthy of that inconsiderate reaction to my youth. Nothing I ever did was good enough for her, things I’ve said or done would always become something of a burden on her, always something that I should have second-guessed and felt bad for and I guess, when I look at it that way it’s no wonder I started hating myself. When your own mother makes you feel like you can’t do anything right, when she makes it clear that she doesn’t trust you, you feel broken. I felt like I was falling apart because the woman that should have raised me was breaking me down. My actions didn’t matter, she never really questioned or talked through why I did things, she just judged everything I did for years. Until she trapped me in my own self doubt. And if she wasn’t insulting me, she was insulting my hobbies, if not them, my passions. She put me through hell, she made me feel trapped in that hideous inferno with her, she made me feel powerless and worthless. She made me feel, like I was nothing. Finally, she wore me down, she made me feel tiny small, she made me into an object that she pushed her sick desires and expectations onto, she made me feel unsafe, she made me feel anxious, she made me angry with how she treated me and started to ruin me. She made me fear life so much that I sought comfort and gratification in others to a point, where I clung to them to an unhealthy degree because who else would I turn to. I made food into a toxic addiction, like it was a drug and a safe haven that I didn’t want to let reality into. I took that like pills, constantly just to feel alive and when it wasn’t enough I turned elsewhere. I turned to people that didn’t care for my heart, I turned to distractions that couldn’t heal, I tried to fill my mind with meaningless nonsense just to stop the destructive voices in my head. They literally left me restless, they wouldn’t keep quiet, they wouldn’t shut up day and night, and eventually I thought those dark dark thoughts...

“I can shut them up forever” “I don’t wanna do this anymore” “make it stop”

And I almost took my life, it took me 19 years to get to the point where I felt so miserable that I didn’t want to be alive anymore. That hurt me in ways words can’t describe. However it only took a few days for me to remember it doesn’t have to be this way. If you struggle with suicidal thoughts, there is another way out, you may see that exit sign floating around the pills or the knife but don’t look at it. Don’t approach it because exiting life is not the solution to it. You may not understand it now but our time spent suffering is not even worthy of being compared to the reward and opportunity and joy that overcoming the pain can bring. I know life is hard, trust me. In the process of trying to get the help I needed I had to make a lot of sacrifices so that I could learn to grow and find strength and it was so so hard and the journey is gonna feel hard sometimes and I know you may not like the idea of life getting any harder but I promise you there are so many great things you can have and achieve when you choose to battle your anxiety and depression rather than taking it as it comes. when you choose to fight your personal demons instead of letting them in, anger, rage, sadness, loneliness they will all come, but they will also go again. None of those feelings about yourself belong in you and absolutely none of that defines you. You are more.

Look at yourself. I mean it, look at you. Look at your face, at your hands, wiggle your fingers. Look at them. You see you’re here, you’re still alive. You may be telling yourself “I’m weak, I can’t do it, I can’t keep fighting” but you are here because you’re strong and despite everything you’re going through. You’re still making the decision to get out of bed, to breathe and do something. You think that just happens, you think it’s easy, no!

That is power. That is a body in motion. A body and a spirit that are still alive and aren’t ready to go yet. That aren’t ready to give up. So don’t. Of course everyone’s situation is different and it’s easy for one person online to say life is worth living and things get better when I don’t know what you’re going through but that’s why you need to tell someone. You aren’t weak for seeking guidance and help. You aren’t weak for admitting you have a problem. Tell someone what’s wrong and pray they lift you up because you’ve been staying down for far too long and you don’t deserve it. Don’t spend so much time measuring your worth it keeping quiet because of “how important are my issues” or “ what good can someone like me even do, what can I offer and achieve when I’m like this.” Because you know what? I am someone like you too and I know I have a lot to offer even when I used to say I didn’t after all. I’m telling you my story and surely it’s gonna touch someone the right way. This words will reach someone’s heart and it will be enough to spark a positive change in at least one person, be it in a victim or a person who knows someone going through pain. Think about what you can offer. Believe me it’s not the end, it’s truly only the beginning, you still have the chance. You can still fight, you can still change and heal. Just take the first step.

#abuse #child abuse #stay strong #my story #trauma #ptsd #abusive mother #fucked up #recovery #cptsd #ed warrior #ptsd recovery #warrior #help #grief #it’s okay #tw #triggerwarning #trigger #suicidal #suiicide #childhood trauma #spilled thoughts #mom #broken #broken home #hate #anger #suicidal thoughts

[jthebeauty]

Jeeeeeeen! I saw that you said you were one the ace spectrum and I’m curious as to how you realize that? I’m questioning my own sexuality rn and a lot of info online is confusing to me LOL. You dont have to answer if you aren’t comfortable tho ofc!

hey nonnie :) ofc we can talk about it! i’m more than comfortable with sharing my story & experience. <3

cw: first kiss, kissing in general, sex talk, sti mention, children mentions, relationships. long post ahead.

growing up, i always naturally admired the romantic aspects in a relationship.

things like dates, breakfast-in-bed, writing love letters, holding hands, cooking meals together, taking silly photos together, (and all that other sappy stuff) really shaped what i desire in a relationship. fun fact; ever since i was 8 or so, i knew i wanted to spend my honeymoon in paris, france (the city of love they call it 😌).

i need to go back into my past a lil’ so you can see where i’m coming from & where it started. 😬 sorry if you get a lil’ uncomfy. 😭🙏🏽

so. i had my first kiss in kindergarten with a handsome guy; a handsome guy who i’d probably still be nervous around as adults. idk, i haven’t seen him in person since i was 14. anyways, i was five years old at the time & the memory of our kiss still runs in my mind here n there.

we liked each other again in grade 6 & we communicated via sticky notes (bc we couldn’t talk during the lesson). 😭 but yeah, he cared a lot about my feelings & always knew when something was up. he’d rub me on the back & talk with me to make me feel better— he was genuinely a sweetheart.

so at 11 years old, due to my “kiddy crush/relationship” experiences with that guy, i viewed relationships as something cute & romantic.

sex was never really on my mind throughout middle school unless it concerned p.e. (physical education). but if anything, p.e. most likely contributed to how i am today. in health class, we talked about sti’s n stuff & i just remember being like umm… if i were to have sex, it’d have to be with someone i know really well & trust. i still feel this way today.

all of that wasn’t planned though, that’s just how it naturally was in my mind— even with peers constantly discussing who did what with who and where around me. sex talk (& rumours of that kind of stuff) were always around me, yet it never interested me or sparked curiosity within me.

i didn’t know for sure that i was on the ace spectrum till high school.

i started speculating when i was about 15 or so (after i had kissed my best friend romantically… more than once). i was able to confirm this once i had my first serious relationship at 16– borderline 17.

i was always excited for the romantic stuff like dates, texting good morning/night messages, even taking polaroid pictures together (once again, sex or anything beyond kissing wasn’t really on my mind for some reason). we even used to call each other practically every day once school ended & we parted ways. real sappy stuff lol.

i also need to add that we didn’t date until we had known each other (as friends) for a good 9-10 months. i knew of my ex since grade 9, but we didn’t become friends until grade 10.

my ex isn’t the first person i have kissed romantically, but they were another person who i had kissed after having some sort of close friendship with (or else it wouldn’t have happened to begin with).

in conclusion, i was in a +2.5 year relationship with my ex. i take relationships seriously, as i’m not one to do flings, one-night stands, situationships, or hook-ups/sneaky links. they don’t interest me one bit & i honestly kinda forget those kind of things exist (i think mainly bc of the pandemic & i’m under the assumption that people aren’t going out as often as they used to).

looking over everything that i can recall from my life, i lowkey consider myself a hopeless romantic LOL. i often read erotic romance novels that revolve around forbidden romance, enemies-to-lovers & stuff of that nature. i was (& still am) obsessed with romance.

i can experience sexual attraction, i’m not completely disinterested in the idea of sex. i want to have kids one day & get married— it’s just a matter of who.

i came to the conclusion that i strongly identify as demisexual & graysexual. i bounce between the two bc i really can’t just pick one. and it’s more than okay if you find yourself in this situation too— you don’t have to pick one & stick to it.

when my ex & i were together, i did experience sexual attraction (bc we had an emotional connection/bond + romantic feelings), but the more we got settled into our relationship, the less those sexual feelings would pass in my mind. i’m the kind of lover that shows my love & affection by cuddling, talking, or helping my partner— stuff of that nature.

for me it was just a matter of thinking “would i do this with a stranger just because they’re attractive?” or “would i do a fwb situation with ____?” and the answer to those kind of questions would be no. i’m just not interested or appealed by the idea of doing things like that with someone who i’m not romantically AND emotionally involved with. the only way we’re doing that, is if we’re mutually romantically AND emotionally involved with each other.

i guess you could say that sex is something “special” to me as well. i just seriously can’t do it with anyone— not even if i find them attractive, it takes so much more than that. but on the other hand, i’m just more of a romantic person anyways.

irl sex is never really at the forefront of my mind & if it is, it’s gone within a few seconds of reflecting on it. in fact, i kind of cringe thinking on past sexual incidents with my ex… like my brain just won’t allow me to reminisce about them & i’m actually glad bc i just don’t feel like purposefully thinking about irl sex anyways. 😭

sorry for the long post! i just really wanted to be transparent with you. but the above is mainly why i see myself on the ace spectrum. it took me a good 4-5 years to come this realization, so i really do feel you nonnie.

if there’s anything you wanna know further, feel free to swing on by again or message me on discord (if you have me there). i really do wish you all the best in navigating your sexuality, it seriously can be reallyyy confusing (especially with the internet as you said).

sending kisses to you my love. take care. 😚❤️

#jen — answered. 💌 #anon. 👤

[vivalaluciforever]

Everybody x Reader - Part One (Angst Warning)

Everybody knew what would happen. Everybody knew it would come. Of course, the end would come. The end is inevitable, but they never thought that it would come this fast. The end of the exchange program was here, and it was time for everyone to go home. Here are some background (inner) thoughts and feelings.

Lucifer:

It feels like a dream. The poor guy can't get a break. He feels like it's his duty to... subtly... hold everybody together. Top all of that off with the fact he's overworking himself to keep his mind off of you. Bad situation. His sleep schedule has once more declined, to a point that is even worse than it was before you left. He constantly sees, hears, and relates everything to you. He has always been hyper-vigilant of everything and everybody in the house. It made him feel like he could be in control and protect everybody, and you were no exception to the rules (well, you almost always were but he digresses). "(Y/N)... no... come back. I'm so sorry for everything. Please come back. You're the only one who I can truly love and trust. My pride is nothing when you're around. You are my walking pride, my love. Please come back... come home."

Mammon:

He's absolutely stopped in his tracks. He can't even comprehend that you're gone, and when he finally does it's not pretty. Lots and lots of tears. The house is going to be barren of kleenexes for a while. He goes out almost every day and gambles away what little he does have, but he doesn't care. It's something to do outside of the torture of the House of Lamentations. He also has a habit of getting himself drunk, and subsequently getting himself yelled at by Lucifer. His only comeback was that he couldn't handle the loss, and surprisingly Lucifer put a blanket around his shoulder and gently told him to go and sober up. "Nonononononononono! Stay! There's no need for you to go home! Isn't this your home too? Don'tcha wanna stay? We had so much fun! We can continue to have fun! Just... p-please... don't a-abandon me like everyone e-else."

Leviathan:

Levi's first reaction is to lock himself in his room and go into full denial. Eventually, he lets the cold exterior melt off and his true colors became fully transparent. Much like his brothers, he submerges himself in his activities: video games, comic cons updates, and other otaku-related things. He doesn't leave his room for days on end, and when he does it's only for food and water. He's jealous of every human who even gets to see your beautiful face in the human realm, but his biggest regret is never going out and doing anything with you. Even his precious Ruri-chan can't do anything to ease his heartache. "I-I don't c-care. Y-You're just a n-normie. It d-doesn't m-matter. I have p-plenty of friends o-online. I-I don't n-need y-you. I-I... need you. Please! Please! C-Come h-home! I-I still don't k-know so m-much about you. I-I should have been l-less selfish. I should have t-tried to g-get to know y-you b-better."

Satan:

(Goes into his bedroom and throws a major tantrum.) Basically, this man just lost his anger translator and when that happens... bad things happen. Once more Lucifer finds himself on the receiving end of pranks, but not normal pranks. His pranks become harsher, his anger showing through them. He has also raided the bookstore more times than Beel raided the kitchen fridge in the past year. Which is definitely an impressive feat in and of itself. You'll find that his precious book pages are covered in teardrop stains. You taught him to love, to be truly calm, and so much more. Please, bring back the anger translator for everybody's sake. "Come back, please? You're the eye of the hurricane. The calm. Please... come back. Please? We can do anything you want. Anything! I'll never deny you another walk. We can go wherever you want! Just please, come back."

Asmodeus:

Sad. Break. Up. Songs. So what if the boy didn't break up with her, the same general gist. Girl leaves boy, boy can't see girl, and ta-da it feels like a breakup has occurred. The boy doesn't party. He doesn't do his skin routine (which absolutely no one can tell), and he acts like he is an insomniac (fully evident in his overly sassy behavior). Basically, not like the Asmodeus, everybody knows. He wishes you would come back so he would have his spa, manicure, and pedicure buddy back. "(Y/N) you made me feel beautiful, inside and out. Come back. I promise I'll always tell you how beautiful you are. You are the most gorgeous being alive, even more than myself. Please... come back... I'll treat you like a princess. I p-promise."

Beelzebub:

Poor baby boy isn't hungry. He doesn't eat, except when forced. His workout routines skyrocket from an hour and a half to over three hours. If he's not working out then he's either crying, laying with Belphie to feel some semblance of peace, or at sports practice. Most of all, he misses your sweetness. You always could work out any situation, and even better you kept the peace and happiness of the house alive. "Please (Y/N), come home. Come back to your family. We... I need you. We can hang out just like the good old days. Get food, snuggle with Belphie, fall asleep watching movies, and more. Whatever you want, just name it. Just... come home to us, to me."

Belphie:

He honestly wonders if he kills everybody up there that you know if you'll come back to them. Just a thought. (Might want to text Beel a thank you for saving your family's lives.) He is very annoyed and confrontational about everything and everybody, except Beel. He wants to sleep to escape, but then he dreams about you. Then he wants to stay awake, but he's just so tired and things, places, and certain things constantly remind him of you. Basically, he is losing his precious sleep cause of you, but he isn't annoyed at you. He's just lonesome for you. "Mmmm... Oh, it was just a dream. (Y/N) isn't really here. Please come back. You would scold me for being so harsh, heh. Please come back... starlight."

Diavolo:

Big man = big heart. Almost chose to permanently kidnap you, but decided against it. He knew you were terribly homesick for your own family and friends, and just your world overall, so he let you go. After watching the brothers tearfully leave the meeting room of RAD, he too went home. He ordered Barbatos to leave him be and went into his room. He cries. He never got to tell you how much he cares for you, seeing as the brothers were always around, but now it was by far his greatest regret. He cries so much that he has puked before, and he very guiltily had to ask Barbatos for help with everything. He is a wreck. "Thank you for joining my adventure. I wish I had had the courage to ask you to join me on another. Maybe someday our paths will cross once more, but till then I will spend every waking moment thinking and dreaming of holding you close to me."

Barbatos:

This man is calm on the outside. Internally he is dying. He misses his son. He misses Luke with his whole being, and he misses you with his whole being. Barbatos will be in the kitchen and start talking as if you and Luke were present. He misses the gentle way you talk, or the way your head would pop in no matter what he was doing and ask if he needed help. He can't help but give in to the sadness that he already knew was coming. He tried so hard to prevail through it, but even he isn't indestructible. He dives into cleaning, making the meals, and helping the struggling Young Lord. He asks for more and more tasks, and more and more tasks are granted. He works constantly. On the occasion that he does get some rest, he is so tired that he blacks out and doesn't even dream. Those can only go so far though, and he constantly wakes up with a sense of barely getting any sleep. "Someday. Someday I'll see you again. Till then I will anxiously prepare for your next stay. Please come back soon."

Simeon:

Upon returning to the Celestial Realm, the poor angel was quite conflicted. Part of him deeply missed his original home, but part of him misses his exchange home. More specifically, a certain exchange student. He wishes he could see you once more, and the ache in his heart greatly attests as such. How he wishes to wrap you up in his arms. You would always tell him how great his hugs were, and now he misses the contact and loving warmth that you always radiated and gave. "Be safe (Y/N), for I cannot protect you while we are so greatly separated. Regardless as such, I will keep an eye on you and pray for your safety and well-being. I look forward to the day that I get to hug you close once more, my dear."

Luke:

Luke. Misses. The. Devildom. Phew! There he admitted it. He yearns to be in the kitchen with Barbatos, running through Purgatory Hall, and Beel taste testing his food (even if he ate it all). He, however, would never admit to such out loud, but he has a suspicion that Simeon can relate to how he is currently feeling. He wishes he could have taken you to see the Celestial Realm, but he knew that that is forbidden. Luke is constantly baking, that way he has something to do. Something to distract him from everybody that he is missing. Sometimes he'll start to talk as if you or Barbatos were in the room before remembering that you weren't there. That you were back in the Human Realm, and Barbatos the Devildom, both of which are very far away from him. "(Y/N)! Oh, heh, right. Not here Luke. Don't be stupid. Wait! Don't you worry (Y/N)! I'll practice till my baking is so good that nothing will be better in your eyes! Just wait! You'll love it when you try it!"

Solomon:

Man isn't really that sad. Magic, check. Your address, check. What is there to be sad about? He does miss being so close to Asmodeus and is peeved that he missed his chance at Lucifer's pact, but other than that he is perfectly fine being back in the Human Realm. Ok, so, he maybe misses Simeon and the Chihuahua a little bit, but it wasn't permanent and he was fully aware of that when he signed on. "Hey (Y/N)! I'm outside your door! Let's hang out for a bit! I'll make you some dinner! (Y/N)! What was that scream? Oh, a bee by my ear, I see. Takeout? Sure, save us both the trouble." (You screamed at the thought of his cooking. There never was a bee, to begin with.)

Someday... the thought that keeps them all going. Someday, they'll see you again.

#lucifer #luci #mammon #leviathan #levi #satan #asmodeus #asmo #beelzebub #beel #belphegor #belphie #lord diavolo #diavolo #dia #barbatos #barbs #simeon #luke #solomon #avatar of pride #avatar of greed #avatar of envy #avatar of wrath #avatar of lust #avatar of gluttony #avatar of sloth #angels #demon prince #demon butler

[tripstaysnoided]

Flow Just Like Water

Story and writing-related transparency update and my many shames...

The Question on Everyone’s Mind

“Hey you haven’t updated No Stars over Uptown in almost a year...”

Hmm, I hate it when you’re right. (This section has been rewritten ad-nauseam to curb back the bitchiness by the way)

So back in early/mid 2018, the idea was to divorce Uptown from a person who influenced it (and myself) heavily. She was my most important audience member, the closest friend I ever had, and unfortunately someone who used her power to bully, ostracize, and hurt others with my help. I cut contact when the hurt + some self-awareness finally reached me. Apologies were made and I feel like my work will never be done with it, but there was still Uptown.

Between censored comments, entirely recasting Axel’s save, different plot threads, and a load of disclaimers, there was nothing that would scrub her influence from the story. There was no way to cleanly drop everything because of how deep her influence went. It disgusted me to look back at it, and I had to private the blog because I feared what it endorsed, even if just in the past.

I pulled back from that sims writing community. I had its main thread on the Official Forums removed too (I guess if that was a mystery to anyone). It was a surrender that I never wanted to do, but I had it in my mind that if I was gone, then she wouldn’t be there either. Uptown became this cursed item, and as I quietly retired it, I noticed that she went quieter too. Not gone, but enough to make me sleep easier at night and even occasionally say hello to old friends.

And I hope deep in my heart that no one else is getting hurt in my place, but now this is gonna haunt me all day huh!

The two paths forward...

1) Complete Uptown rewrite that I’ve been threatening everyone with all year. While it won’t ever be clean because I can’t undo time, I do have a sound outline for a story that is much more true to my actual vision and how I’ve evolved, with a few necessary boundaries in place that are going to be there for all stories moving forward: no more casting calls and no more collaborative efforts. I am not going to open myself up to this happening again, even if the people have changed.

2) Same as above, but I continue the original Uptown as a favor to loyal readers alongside the rewrite. I would try to put the effort into it that I initially did, but with no promises on an update schedule and no advertising. I did ask myself “is there Patreon but without pledging money, just the private posts function” but it could operate as part of a private forum, a members-only part of a website, etc.

Also readers of the original would be beholden to a rule of “don’t spoil the rewrite for new readers, c’mon guys”. I mean, not really, but it is a good courtesy to extend to people.

Priority on this isn’t high but you at least will see what is!

I will probably make the blog public again either way due to the many broken links on my Tumblr but we’ll see. There are other things to deal with as I shall list!

Where Life’s Been Regardless

Been spending more time with my grandpa every weekend. Life’s pretty good and he’s warming up to my dogs.

Shiny New Webbed Site

Cucumber Fields Forever is a site I own now. We have a full domain, cucumberfieldsforever.com, a blog with one post, and the framework needed to host stories the way I want to and still through WordPress. The functionality of likes, comments, and following should still be the same but you know...I’ll take feedback too...

The main blog still has an undefined purpose though I do have drafts sitting around about:

The maybe/maybe not hoax band that was on the Metal Archives and the history of Funeral Doom Metal.

The curious case of when Sims 4 babies get their genetics and my only collaboration (read: was talking about it with a friend and might quote her if needed, it’s actually a bit of a doozy)

Amazon.com’s fake dried udon noodles, an actual issue by the way.

Things I’m reading! (This’d be a monthly feature if so)

For the sake of unity, I am thinking of solutions for hosting old and shameful content there including Uptown and for the real fans in my followers feed, Eight Cicadas...a world I totally have plans for too (not really). I don’t want them to be front-and-center, and that’s why I mentioned forums/members-only content. I finally have that power! Maybe.

Ooooh but what are the costs? Not too much to handle, that’s what. 😉 (Like really, I don’t need any hand-wringing about this, I can manage my finances)

Project Queue (In Order of Confirmedness)

Outrun the Scythe: have you seen me post out-of-context Sims 3 pictures? Did you want more? Did you hope it was Linda in Custody? If the answers are yes, yes, and “meh, whatever you want”, then you’re in luck.

Outrun the Scythe is a Sims 3-based tale of a young gay man and his zombie grandma, as they are both offered separate roles of being the undying intermediaries between the world of humans and the influence of a race of space daemons. It’s pretty familiar if you’ve been following me pre-Uptown, taking some cues from stories I’ve kept under lock and key like Eight Cicadas, The Chains of Lyra, and the not-so-locked-up Ironstar Immortals (of which Outrun is just the direct sequel to sans any retconning...ah the smell of early 2013 and performative heterosexuality)

Ah, back to my roots.

It’s a hybrid of gameplay, story, and lore about my little race of daemons with a lot of my own idiosyncrasies that I’m not really ashamed of: basing it off a super-polarizing Sims 3 challenge from a site I moderate, using a lot of EA’s pre-made townies and their genes, lots of unnecessary posemaking, stupid references. It’s a comfort to have in my roster.

While the first few chapters are in the middle of revision, I have around six in the queue and will be making this public when I have ten. I’m guessing December then?

Undocumented Black Widow Challenge: I just did this for fun/forum kudos (yes, in fact I have joined many forums), there was going to be a short story but it was quickly becoming something against my code of ethics. I mean, sims die and all. (read: I had to choose between “heterosexual widow” and “widow with some same-sex marriages that still end in tragedy, reinforcing negative stereotypes to the public for the sake of me not getting bored and detached during gameplay” so there were no good choices. Except for her affair with the mailwoman, 10/10) I hope to finish this before October ends and get my medal on Boolprop, I’m pretty far through it all. I might upload the sims involved anyways. This is for TS4.

I mentioned it because it’s keeping me busy. But not for long!

NaNoWriMo 2020: Dipping my toes into that again! It’s not sims-related, just a tale of lesbians, nosy neighbors, a haunted beach house, and some light murder and kidnapping. And I actually got my brother to scout out locations for me this weekend. If there’s any demand, I can share chapters as the rough drafts are finished, especially for the sake of proofreading.

Not saying I’m publishable, but wouldn’t it be nice? Will keep me occupied for much of November.

Untitled “Dear Diary” Challenge: Tired of feeling left out of the fun on the Boolprop forums, their “Dear Diary” challenge was the one that appealed to me the most on first glance. Why? Probably once I found an idea that let it be set in the early/mid-2000′s to begin with and explore some interesting characters through diary entries (which I have mixed feelings on as a literary device but I think that’s just me saying “well I didn’t like Dracula”, yes you get bonus points for writing it like a diary)

Also writing is the one skill I’m good at across multiple games. Wanna hear me bitch about the cooking skill tree in TS4 or riding in TS3? I’ll spare you.

I guess I could have included “spending time on Boolprop with old and new friends” in where my life has been. It’s a nice lil community if also a place with its own idiosyncrasies as well. So it doesn’t feel like I’m promoting another community if/when I make a thread there for Outrun the Scythe, I want to have a couple chapters of this ready to go by Outrun’s release, though it’s not gonna be the highest priority compared to it nor as long because I think I can blast through the gameplay quickly.

This one will be played in TS4 due to it having the easiest writing skill/I dunno variety is the spice of life. And hopefully another December release.

Defunded or Forgotten?: Oh shit I actually released stuff in 2020 and told no one? I do have a “mortifying ordeal of being known” sinking feeling whenever I get a site hit because it’s not my best work (but good enough) and veered sharply into issues I may be over my head in, though I try to be a good noodle with research and listening. Maybe hiding is bad after all.

Being based off a very flawed and incomplete Sims 3 challenge I found in the annals of the Official Forums, there’s a lot of behind-the-scenes work just making sense of things. And I’m scared of working on reconstructing the house but I haven’t abandoned the project yet. The story has eight chapters so far and is pretty game-based with some additions here and there. Scared of how long it could be though!

Date for this unknown.

Untitled Sunlit Tides Decadynasty: another year-long abandoned TS3 project with a much stupider reason why. Last update was about Hua getting ready for her wedding, and I wanted to do some poses for a bait-and-switch wedding chapter because to put it mildly, her real one was an absolute disaster.

Blender decided to fuck up its interface again, I got discouraged (this probably does account for some of the Uptown delays too), and when I decided to plow forward, it was for other projects instead.

Meanwhile I played all the way to Gen 5′s teenhood and the only thing stopping me is time (it takes almost 30 minutes to load the file right now, though they’ll be looking at moving towns in a couple gens) and maybe fear of the Logic skill.

Date for this also unknown but it’s easy to pump out updates once I’m in the groove for it. My third heir had a difficult life so maybe I’m just trying to bury it.

Also I just noticed the view count there was really good and probably because I linked it here on Tumblr last year. Thank you so much guys. I can’t really fret over views on Carl’s forum these days thanks to the years-long death spiral pretty much every forum anywhere has been riding on. But it’s a nice surprise. And it’s an alright little challenge recap to read during your lunch break or whatever.

The Wawas

I figured I’d end on the real news everyone wants! Both the chihuahuas are a year and a half now and reached their adult size around a year ago. For the most part, they are happy and healthy dogs.

#state of the uwunion #long post

[k-writer1998]

Rebel Hours (15/18)

Kwon Jieun always fit her parents’ image of the “perfect” daughter… at least to their knowledge. Away from prying eyes she was like any other girl living life to the fullest doing what she wants. When a little someone named Bang Chan comes into her life priorities are changed, mistakes are made, and her life finally becomes her own.

Angst this chapter

w.c: 2.2k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

      It took a week to get everything in place. Having to make calls and pull strings for the plan, on top of having to keep up with my school work, left me little time to do much else. I texted Chan when I could and he understood, especially with the situation at hand. He’s tried to figure out what exactly I was planning but I wanted to keep him in the dark about most of it. I’m not proud of what I have planned but it’s what needs to be done in order for my parents to listen. Knowing Chan, if he knew how extreme this was he definitely wouldn’t let me do it. Family is a big part of his life and he would hold himself accountable if I lost mine for what I’m about to do.

      Taking a deep breath, I step out of my car and head to my parents’ front door. My nerves were buzzing and it didn’t help that I basically had to schedule an appointment to see my own parents. Mother took the chance to berate me for the "extra work" I caused them before actually giving me a date and time. At the door one of the maids greeted me and escorted me to father’s office before leaving me. I straightened my blazer to give me a smidge more strength after taking a deep breath and entering the room. Father seated in his chair and mother stood beside him, their glares followed me as I took the seat across from them.

“What does an unfilial child want? Going as far as making an appointment,” mother scoffed.

“It’s only fair to do since you both decided to treat my life as an object for transactions.”

“You-”

“Mother please. I think we both know there is some truth to those words.”

“Insolent child, how dare you?!” 

      Father boomed, slamming his hand on his desk. Internally I flinched but on the outside I leveled my gaze with my father’s as sparks flew in the air between us. Focus on the goal, no feelings. After silent affirmation I readdressed my parents.

“Let us discuss what I came here for, my unofficial engagement to Kyunghoon behind my back.”

“Look at this behavior! If we didn’t act, who knows what kind of trouble you would get yourself in. Do you know how much work was put in to cover for you and save your father’s reputation?”

“Mother the articles were harmless aside from a few small comments. There wasn’t much you needed to fix anyways but I will reiterate what I spoke of last time. I am in a relationship and will not be accepting the matchmaking you’ve arranged and definitely not Kyunghoon,” I bit back.

“This is precisely why we made the decision to pair you two up. Kyunghoon and his family are thankfully still willing to agree and that’s what you’re going to do. Do you understand?”

“I understand clearly but that does not change my response. Mother, if you continue to push this matter, I will have to make an extreme move that I believe neither of you would enjoy.”

“Are you threatening your parents right now? Children really are shameless these days… We’ve given you every connection you have, who would dare go against us?”

“Actually there were quite a few interested parties, father. People want to know if things are as perfect behind closed doors as they seem in public.”

      I reached into my purse, pulling out three business cards, and displayed them on father's desk. With trembling eyes, he picked up and read each card before crushing them in his fist. Mother stumbled back to lean against the wall, shocked by my brazen behavior as I continued.

“The interview dates are set. As long as you drop the engagement and allow me to live my life as I wish, without intervening, these interviews will be nothing more than good press to bolster your campaign.”

“You wicked child! Now you want to bite the hand that fed you?! Fine, live as you wish but do not call us your parents because we did not raise a child like you!”

“I apologize for going to the extreme but I keep my words, and I swore to myself I would protect my happiness. I hope one day you’ll accept me for who I am rather than be seen as a tool to support your campaign.”

“Get out. I no longer want to see your face.”

      My father’s words were harsh and short, cutting deep within my heart. I got up and bowed to both of them before turning to walk out but then I stopped. I reached into my purse and contemplated for a moment as I fiddled with the flash drive in the pocket. Walking back to my parents, I carefully placed the flash drive on the desk.

“There is a strong reason why I am against Kyunghoon. I understand that you’ve disowned me but if you’re ever curious about the girl who was your daughter and that reason, it’s all in here.”

      Once I was safely in my car, all tension left my body as frustrated tears poured from my eyes. So many questions spun in my mind. Why were my parents like this? Why don’t they trust me… If I was honest, all that "exposing the truth” was all a bluff. I didn’t have the heart to throw away my parents’ hard work. I’ve seen enough to know that I wasn’t the only one the campaigns were having a toll on. I understand just how much time and effort was put into this, it hurt the most that they believed I was ungrateful and spiteful enough to ignore all of that. All I asked of them was for a little room to just be me, for once in my twenty-two years of life.

      I don’t know how long I sat there like that until my tears finally exhausted themselves. When I looked in the mirror I was a mess as I covered my closed eyes in an attempt to ease the stinging the tears had caused. I needed to get rid of the puffiness and the red rimming my eyes ASAP. I’m meeting Chan later and he’ll already be able to tell that something happened, I don’t want him worrying too much if he sees I cried too. Luckily by the time I reached his university most traces of my tears were gone. As I walked onto the campus grounds Chan called and directed me to his location through the phone. The moment I laid eyes on his figure I put my phone down and weaved through the crowd as I knocked into him, wrapping my arms around him and letting out a sigh.

"That bad?"

      I nod into his chest in reply. He gave me a squeeze before gently pulling away to examine my face. Looking into his eyes, I pulled a smile hoping he didn't notice the lingering puffiness. Thankfully he didn't as a soft smile graced his face.

"If it's that bad did the plan work? It's okay if it didn't, we can figure something else out."

"I'm definitely out of my engagement and they’ll leave us alone so I would say it worked."

"You must've had a hard time, you look drained. Wanna grab a coffee?"

"Yes please."

      The coffee and just spending time with Chan helped soothe my guilt. Guilt for doing that to my parents and guilt for not being transparent with my boyfriend. Trust me I know it's gonna blow up in my face, the thought constantly nags me in the back of my mind, but there was no other way. Chan would definitely try to find another option but with the rumor and not knowing how long I had before they made things official, I needed to take the fastest and most effective route. Ignoring the little voice in my head, my attention was drawn back to the boy in front of me. We’re together and there’s nothing trying to break us up. Enjoy it… and that’s exactly what I did.

      Two weeks fly by and it feels almost too serene. With my recent track record, I was expecting some type set back or accident or some drama to come up and send a ripple through the peaceful pond. Aside from classes and the interviews where I put on smiles to show I’m still the good child, explaining how supportive my parents are to me trying new looks, everything has been… normal. I’ve even had time to ponder a certain four letter word. The idea has danced across my mind on a few occasions but I’ve never really examined the thought. Am I in love with Bang Chan? From the indescribable force that draws me to him to the spirit that kindled itself in my resigned heart… love doesn't seem that far off but it seems as though fate didn't want me to dwell on the thought. Chan sent an urgent message to meet him… did something happen? As anxiety and fear swirled in my chest, I rushed over to the park between our two campuses. When my eyes landed on him,  concern flared at his listless form as I moved closer to him.

"Hey what happened? Why did you need to see me so urgently? Are you okay?"

"So were you just going to keep this from me too? I thought we were over this."

      Shit. No no no no no. I didn't tell anyone, how did he find out? The only people who knew were me and-

"Did my parents come looking for you?"

"They did but that's not the problem. When we got together we agreed, no more secrets."

"I know we said that but if I told you I knew how you were going to react-"

"If you knew how I would react, the more reason you should’ve told me! We could've found another way."

"There was no other way Chan! There was no time for an alternative. My parents don't listen until there is something on the line."

"It makes sense," he scoffs, "why you were so upset that day… you abandoned your family for-"

"Let's get one thing straight. They were the ones who disowned me because I wanted to take control of my life rather than let them make all of my decisions," I cut him off.

"But you did so by threatening them. How else would they react to their child acting like that?"

"If they took the chance to know me, they would’ve known. No matter how angry I am I would never put their livelihood at stake. I know how hard they worked to get my father where he is."

"Exactly Jieun and because of me you’re not only hurting your parents but also yourself… "

"If that's what it takes then so be it. I'm more scared of losing you than upsetting my parents. They will get over it if they want to keep me as their daughter," I stated stubbornly.

"But I'm not okay with that. How do you think that makes me feel? Knowing that I’m the reason you and your parents don't speak anymore?"

"That was their choice. All I could do was oblige with their request and let them know my door’s still open. Those were their actions that you have no control over, it's not your fault."

"I just- so much has happened and I don't know if I can keep doing this."

      It was like the world slowed down. My heart screamed at me to tell him how losing him would be like losing a piece of myself and I wouldn’t recover… but my mind knew better. I’ve been in his place before so I should understand but I need to be sure what was at stake.

"Chan you don't mean…"

"No? I don't know, I just need time to figure things out. Even if I get over being between you and your parents, there is still the fact that you kept this from me."

"I messed up, I know that, and I’m sorry but Chan please," I begged.

      I didn’t mean to say that but his doubt, although well deserved, cut deep within me and I lost my resolve for a second. It's just scary when you realize you’re in love and now you might just as quickly lose it. The desperation in my voice was evident and there was enough running through his mind, he doesn't need to add my wreck of an emotional state to his problems. Pulling my internal state together, my feet stepped away from him as I gave him a slow nod.

"I'm sorry for that behavior just now, it’s nothing. Take all the time you need, you know how to find me when you’re ready.”

      I tried to give him a smile but I could tell by how his eyes softened that he didn’t buy it. We stood there in silence for a moment, unsure how to end this conversation? Argument? Do you just walk away? My mind was a swirling mess when his voice cut through the chaos.

"It’s getting late you should head home…”

#stray kids #skz #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #skz scenarios #bang chan #bang chan imagines #bang chan scenarios #my writing #rebel hours

[akechicrimes]

it does matter, actually, that goro akechi is a minor. not because this somehow exonerates him morally, or because this somehow makes him not responsible for his actions, but because persona 5 is invested in children as a source of hope for a better future. 

once i saw someone complain that people will defend akechi’s murders on the grounds that he’s a child/minor and how they felt that this doesnt excuse multiple counts of murder. and i was like, ok, well, im not sure anyone was excusing him, but alright, sure. and i’ve seen a few rebuttals to that, one of which is that shido and the other adults in akechi’s life had a responsibility to support akechi in such a way that it didn’t come to murder, and of course it’s on shido to just not be a massive dick who endorses fascism and murders in the first place. and i was like ok, well, this seems a little patronizing and dismissive of akechi’s agency and autonomy, but alright, sure.

in a very roundabout way of explaining my first two sentences, there’s one thing that bothers me lately, and it’s selim bradley from fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood. 

for those of us not familiar with fma:b, selim, or pride, is the oldest homunculus/artificial human in the show and the second-oldest villain, despite the fact that he looks about eight years old. of the seven homunculus named after deadly sins, selim/pride is the only one to survive the show--with an asterisk, which is that selim gets the “homunculus” part of him erased by the end of the show. with the “pride” aspect of him gone, selim is mortal, without any special powers, without memories of any of his amoral acts, and is generally just a happy, normal child.

which is a weird exception to fma:b’s general rule in which every other homunculus dies. even fan favorites like greed and envy don’t live, despite the fact that greed and envy are far more sympathetic as characters. selim kills multiple people on-screen, shows zero remorse whatsoever, and is an active helper in all the other mass-murders that the homunculi engineer. selim’s not an innocent in any way. also, he’s like, 200 years old? 300? he’s very old. biologically, mentally, emotionally, selim is not a child.

but fma:b goes out of its way to make sure that selim gets a second chance at a future, just because his body looks like a child’s. cut another way, he gets an exception from a large number of terrible crimes, up to an including participation in genocide, just because he looks like a child. 

fma:b reminded me that, outside of tumblr’s purity politics over children, and especially so in japan, children are socially constructed in a very specific way, beyond biological age and legal majority cutoffs. 

yes, biological age is a thing. yes, legal majority is a thing. i’m not saying that being a child isn’t a biological thing--it is, obviously. but what i’m saying is that there’s a difference between, say, the sex assigned to you at birth and your gender presentation, to use an analogy. there is a such thing as biological age, but the societal status of being a child of a related but separate thing. and this status of being considered a child is a societal construct.

the social construction goes like this, insofar as i’m aware: children should be good and silent and dutiful and work hard and go to school and listen to their elders, and their elders in turn should do everything they can to guide the children to the right path and build a good society for these children to inherit. (if we want more details on this, please see the entire history of filial piety in asia.)

so that’s a social contract right there baked into the social construct of childhood: children don’t have power, but adults have an obligation to make sure they don’t need power, and to make sure that the future and their children’s futures look bright. 

children represent the future, essentially. they’re the next generation. they’re simultaneously without legal rights as adults and in a very vulnerable position, for sure, but they’re also simultaneously considered the country’s most precious capital: quite literally the people who will inherit and lead the country next.

which, personally, i think puts a whole new spin on the phantom thieves in general. they’re not just kids who’re being rowdy or kids telling abusive shitty adults theyre being abusive and shitty--or, they’re kids doing those things, but they’re not just kids doing those things. they’re kids who’ve been specifically let down by adults who did not fulfill their social obligation to them. they’re kids who’ve been abandoned and neglected by the very adults who should have been paving the way forward for them, as society has asked those adults to do, because those adults have instead chosen to line their own pockets and cover their own asses. 

so the kids said: alright, well, then i’ll take power for myself, and i’ll make my own future. (which is where we get a lot of those promo slogans of “steal back your future” and junk like that.)

sae’s comments about how adults should do their part to fix the world for the kids is just a resolidifying of the way the world “should” work, and we could talk about her comments on the matter, but actually i wanna talk about yoshida.

i especially want to talk about yoshida because yoshida and shido are the two politicians we see the most of, and both of them spend a lot of time reciting political rhetoric to speak to the hearts of the general japanese populace. we all know the way that shido thinks of japan: a large vehicle that one person is in control of, and the masses just compose the throne upon which the ruler sits.

we also already know that yoshida’s a Real G, but it’s worth really close-reading some of his lines. he speaks a lot about apathy, the lack of caring for each other in society--a general willingness to disregard your fellow man, to not uphold one’s social obligation to each other. but he also talks a lot about the “youth”--which is not really uncommon for a politician, obviously, since politicians are always talking about “the children” and “the kids” and “the next generation” and “those damn millennials” and all that shit. 

yoshida instead gives us these fun lines:

A world where the young exist only to be exploited... is a world that must be changed!

And while our society appears to be prosperous, many of our young people are quietly suffering. They lack jobs, security, savings... The next generation will lead us into the future and yet they have no plan for how to arrive there.

Passing on the societal ills we have created to the next generation... is not right!

...the current administration refuses to discuss their plans for the future... Can we really accept such an utter lack of transparency?!

If you make a promise, you must keep it. If you make a mistake, you must atone for it. These are basic human principles that we have all learned from the youngest of ages... 

yoshida’s entire thing about how the adults have let the children down isn’t just him saying shit--he’s commenting directly on the fact that the social contract has been broken, and he’s putting the blame on the administration for not upholding their responsibility to secure a future for the children, especially since the children are the future of the country. 

this is partly why he doesn’t blame the phantom thieves for acting the way that they do; rather, he seems them as a logical reaction to the injustice that’s occurred as a result of the society that the adults have left for them:

I bet [the Phantom Thieves] are a group of young people. Young people who have experienced cruelty and injustice... They bravely face the societal ills that plague our world without thinking of the consequences.

(i think also in part he admires the fact that they’re anonymous and don’t benefit personally from their actions, which is exactly the opposite of what he did as a young politician. he also doesn’t throw the real embezzlement culprit under the bus to exonerate himself presumably for the same principle of desiring selfless public service instead of personal gain.)

in both the early parts of the s link and later on when yoshida starts talking with matsushita more extensively, akira’s important because he’s young--he represents the young demographic that yoshida and matsushita are discussing the future of. akira demonstrating support for yoshida in a public way means a lot because he’s a minor. matsushita asks akira for his opinions on the phantom thieves and other issues because akira is a minor. akira’s opinion is supposed to be heard and valued by adults, who should take his opinions into consideration and do their best to not let him down. 

this is tied into the general thread of yoshida being a person who was self-admittedly just as corrupt as everyone else, who was blinded by glamor and fame and money, who got caught up in political scandal. yoshida’s general acceptance of his mistakes as a human being and politician ties over to his general belief that it’s not that the youth are rebellious no-good teens, but that the youth have been let down by politicians like who he used to be. he blames himself, and because he is not too different from the rest of the older generation and politicians in general, he implicates a lot of the older generation and politicians as also blame-worthy.

his quest for redemption and atonement dovetails neatly with his views on the broken societal contract. taken together, yoshida’s s link implies to us the idea that the entire general older generation in japan more or less owes the children of japan a formal apology, and the older generation better get on their redemption arc and start being the vanguard of the change for children:

The reason [the Phantom Thieves are] causing a stir is because they are addressing the world’s problems. Setting aside whether their actions are right or wrong... there is one thing I can safely say about the Phantom Thieves. A belief with conviction... has the ability to move a person’s heart.

I’m sure you are all aware that I am “No-Good Tora,” the one accused of embezzlement. However, because I was accused like that, I was able to understand the suffering of the weak. Why am I in politics? In the past, it was merely for personal gain. But why do the Phantom Thieves continue to change hearts? I believe they do it for the world and its people. And in choosing to do justice for others, they had no choice but to disguise themselves. No matter what the world says, I fully support them. 

I’m just an average citizen. However, I will continue to voice my beliefs. I may not be able to become a Diet member this election... and I may not be able to effect change during my lifetime... but I’ve made my peace with that. I will be happy as long as I can be a meaningful stepping stone for the future of our youth!

okay. so that was a lot of close reading about yoshida. why did we do this exercise, tumblr user akechicrimes. 

there’s two takeaways from this. the first is the one that yoshida has already talked about extensively, which is that the phantom thieves are just but not because Fuck Cops and Fuck Capitalism and Fuck Anime Jeff Bezos. the phantom thieves are just because the people who are supposed to be upholding society aren’t doing their fucking jobs. the phantom thieves are specifically saying: we’ve been let down by society, so apparently we have to do everything our goddamn selves around here.

(which also ties in neatly to the general “fuck cops” vibe of persona 5 which, i would like to say, is very specifically “the cops are not doing their jobs.” the TV station scene where akira speaks back to akechi is, if i’m remembering this right, maybe the ONLY time we really hear “akira’s” opinion on the morality of his own activities, which is fascinating because he just does these things without ever justifying himself to the player--anyway, his three options are: (1) They’re justice itself, (2) They’re necessary, and (3) They do more than the cops. so akira can’t ever at any point say that the phantom thieves are bad, but his most interesting and detailed answer is to point out that the cops aren’t doing what they’re supposed to do, so who can really blame the phantom thieves for doing what the cops aren’t?)

the second takeaway is that yes, goro akechi does get more leniency because he’s a minor. 

yes. seriously. this isn’t a matter of excusing what he did, or downplaying the fact that he committing murder. i’m not saying that he wasn’t old enough to make decisions (although i would never say that he was old enough to make decisions, because he was 14/15 when he got wrapped up in shido’s conspiracy). i’m also not saying that akechi, somehow for some reason, didn’t volunteer himself willingly, because all the evidence points to the fact that he did (although of course “free will” is also highly circumspect considering his living conditions at the time and the fact that shido makes it clear that he was able to manipulate akechi without ever infringing on akechi’s sense of autonomy). i’m not even saying that akechi was driven to the point of murder and had no other choice (although i think that might also be true as well).

what i am saying is that under the construction of childhood as japan’s future and japan’s hope, akechi is considered a valuable member of society, and is therefore worth saving.

or at least he should be.

akechi says that he’s an unwanted child, but “unwanted child,” according to yoshida’s rhetoric (and a lot of japan’s general rhetoric of children as hope for the future) is an oxymoron. (or at least it would be an oxymoron if japan weren’t so fucking hypocritical.) you can’t not want the future of the country. you can’t not want hope for a good future. the very idea that a child could be not wanted or not valuable doesn’t make any sense, because children are the future--in some ways, whether you like it or not, that child is going to inherit the earth when you’re dead.

the kind of person who’d not want those things is--well, shido. (this is why i used yoshida; yoshida and shido are two polar opposite politicians.) shido quite literally does not want a good future for anyone in the country and quite literally does not want akechi and quite literally does not see akechi, one of the very young-person citizens that shido is supposed to be serving, as useful or valuable in any way unless akechi is directly promoting shido’s fame and popularity. shido being akechi’s father is just a very neat and nice way of literalizing the ways that shido, as an adult, has let down akechi as a child--the ways that shido quite literally owed akechi something to make akechi’s life and future better, and instead did everything awful.

there should not ever be a thing like “unwanted child.” that in and of itself, from the start of akechi’s life, was nonsensical. and to the extent that shido being akechi’s father is allegorical of the ways that shido is a terrible patriarch for japan, i would say that akechi, as an unwanted foster child, is just another allegory for the ways that children nowadays are treated as misbehaving, lazy good-for-nothings who have to work themselves into the dirt to be given half the salary and half the praise. akechi, as an unwanted child, is just the personification and representative of an apparently unwanted generation. 

what i’m getting at is that akechi’s status as a minor (and yes he’s a minor even if he’s eighteen; age of majority in japan is twenty)--akechi’s status as a minor is a critical part of why akechi gets a shot at a redemption arc. so yes, actually, the other villains or palace-rulers don’t get redemption arcs because they are adults, who had a societal obligation to do better by their peers and by the children of japan. yes, actually, akechi’s informal “trial” in the hands of fandom is to be tried as a minor and not as an adult. yes, i know kamoshida didn’t kill anyone and akechi’s literal crimes are more morally repugnant, but yes, unfortunately, being a minor does actually exonerate him on the morality spectrum to a degree. 

being a child matters in the larger scheme of persona 5′s logic of who owes who, who’s responsible for who, and why we should not be apathetic. adults owe children a better future. adults have been letting children down. adults owe every single phantom thief, including akechi, an apology, a better future, and health and happiness; and they owe that to japan’s future not as a matter of exchange or morals, but simple social obligation. adults are supposed to take care of the kids--full stop. 

”okay but @ tumblr user akechicrimes?? akechi KILLED people.”

yeah, i know. i said “being a minor does actually exonerate him on the morality spectrum to a degree.” 

what degree? no idea. that’s up to you to decide. if you want to play in the black-grey-white morality scale that only goes two ways, you’re welcome to continue to ask “what degree.” we can argue that being a minor somehow reels akechi back from the “black” end of the spectrum into the “grey” or “white” parts. 

but (if i may be permitted to go completely off the shits into things that might make people pissed off at me for saying) i implore you to consider that this two-way scale of morality is not the line of thought that persona 5 is pursuing. 

this, again, ties back into the social construction of a child. i’ve said “a child is representative of the country’s future” so many times i think it’s lost meaning, so let me dice it a different way: a child is socially constructed as representative of potential and hope. a child is socially constructed as the capacity for things to get better. in persona terms, a child is the fool at the start of their journey, all futures contained in one present, a vast multitude of could-be’s. 

for a game very concerned with japan’s general societal ruin, children are not just in the position of having been let down by adults, but are--as the phantom thieves demonstrate--representative of better futures regardless of how terrible circumstances look in the current day. they are a source of believing one day this sad, depressing story might actually end with “and then they lived happily ever after.”

if i may go even more completely off the shits, take a look at this heckler from yoshida’s s link, which is the one that akira speaks back to in the middle of yoshida’s speech:

...I’ve been wrong this whole time. Even though someone has failed in the past, it doesn’t mean that person can’t try again.

this is to say, redemption arcs insofar as persona 5 (and also persona 5 royal, i think) is concerned is not a question of necessarily addressing the wrongs that have occurred. yoshida sets the bar pretty high in that yoshida does not ask for forgiveness for what he’s done, and instead simply accepts his actions and their consequences without attempting to lessen the blow. he embraces what he’s done in all its awfulness. 

but because akechi is a a minor, and because akechi as a minor is getting wrapped up in persona 5′s train of thought about kids as the hopeful futures of japan, akechi is at the very least owed a chance to do better. as a minor, japan is societally contracte to give him the space to have the potential to be better and do better. nobody is obligated to forgive him, and indeed neither royal nor akechi ever seem to entertain this as a valid possibility. forgive, forget, reconciliation, retribution, and resolution seem to be all off the table, as if the very idea would minimize haru or futaba’s losses. the very conceit of the dreamworld in P5R wants to shoot down the very idea that the past can ever, to any degree, be fixed, remedied, or even emotionally resolved. akechi will have always killed wakaba and okumura and this fact will always be awful--full stop.

nevertheless, despite the fact that the past cannot be changed, akechi is still a minor. rather than attempting to resolve the issues of the past, akechi is still owed the space to become a beacon of potential change for the better in the future--which is also known as hope. 

i’ve said this in other posts elsewhere, but persona games are like, obsessed with hope. they fucking adore that shit. why not? even in difficult times, even when things are terrible and you’re going through misery, if you at least have hope that one day things will be better, that life will change, that the new generation will step up to the plate and make the story have a happy ending, pain becomes easier to bear. and why not? persona games cover a breadth of difficult topics. 

especially in a game like P5, which talks at length about modern day japan’s ailments, what good is it if the player walks away with a defeatist attitude that the future will be terrible? 

if reality is malleable like morgana says, isn’t the first step to have hope that this is true?

this post has gone on a lot longer than i thought it would. but in any event. that’s why it is valid to say that akechi being a minor “exonerates” him to a degree. 

also selim bradley lives because fma:b concurs that children are a hope for a better future and fma:b is particularly invested in this line of thought because it’s a story about edward transitioning from a child to a young adult who is learning about the ways that the world works and is also still just childlike enough to propose that the world shouldn’t have to work in the bloody, awful way that it does. selim is representative that all children should be given as many chances as possible to do and be better because they are representative of potential. if that wasn’t clear. lmao.

#meta #mine

[iraprince]

Do you have any tips for getting an audience of tumblr or Twitter. Sometimes I just get frustrated when a drawing I spent 6 hours on gets 3 notes or 2 likes and a retweet.

i think it’s really hard to have one size fits all advice for something like this — the internet is so vast, i only really know how to navigate my own specific niche of it, and different artists will always appeal to different audiences, so stuff that worked for me might not work for you. BUT i can try my best — i just can’t guarantee any of this is replicable bc especially with the new age of incomprehensible algorithms i just never know what’s going on at any given time

first off, a big disclaimer for transparency: a lot of my Big follower gains have been from my Hashtag Relatable mental health comics getting tons of notes. i do NOT!!!!! recommend making mental health content to try to get popular!!! i think doing so will put fucking worms in your brain!!! it will poison you and your brain will dribble out your ear holes like soup. i think that it is already complicated enough to navigate all the weirdness of like... making vulnerable stuff like that available for consumption, and doing it in Hopes of going viral and getting lots of followers can imo literally only end poorly. hhhhhowever, i would feel really weird if i like... glossed over the fact that i know that’s where a lot of my followers have come from, or acted like that didn’t happen, so. i just have to like, mention it. my takeaway here is if you’re going to make mental health content FOR YOURSELF because you WANT to, brace yourself for it to potentially circulate, and be ready to feel really weird about it, but i do not recommend it as like... a way to purposefully grow an audience.

ANYWAY. with that nagging out of the way. actual advice

1. fanart, but only of stuff you really actually like. it is literally just a fact that it’s easier for people to feel invested in and care about characters from stuff they’re already invested in than original independent content. it’s not wrong to court that! but i think u should only pour energy into fanart of stuff u actually like — not bc chasing after whatever the current BNHA-type thing is rn is “selling out,” who gives a shit, but bc the end goal is to have an audience who WANTS to see what YOU want to make. you want people who care about your specific set of aesthetics and interests, not ppl who will unfollow en masse the second you fall off trend. (if you DO tend to really like what’s super popular, there’s nothing wrong with that! that’s lucky for you, genuinely.)

2. self promo all the time. this one can be hard bc it feels embarrassing at first. you feel like you’re spamming people or being annoying or self centered. but listen: people follow literally hundreds of accounts. you remember every time you’ve boosted your drawing; most of the ppl who follow you probably didn’t even see it. and if they see it twice or three times among the literally hundreds and thousands of posts anyone sees per day that is not a big deal. stuff gets lost! timelines and dashboards move fast! i cannot count the number of times i’ve seen something cool and thought “oh i’ll check that out” and then five minutes later i’ve forgotten bc of information overload. you have to constantly remind people that you exist and that you make things and i promise you you’re not being as annoying as you think you are. (i know you guys don’t see this in practice from me much on tumblr; that is bc i don’t really like it here and i don’t understand the vibes. i never shut the fuck up on twitter)

3. follow and engage with your peers, not just people with 10k+ followers who have already “made it” or whatever. this is not advice about growing an audience so much as advice for not feeling super shitty while you’re trying to grow your audience. i’m not saying that people with tons of followers/bustling online shops/enamel pin empires are like a completely different category of person of whatever, that’s not my point; clout is not direct deposit and just bc someone is popular doesn’t mean they’re coasting by without worries; etc etc. but my point is that i used to only follow very popular, established artists who were, in my mind, “out of my league,” and i spent all my time beating myself up for not being them or being consumed with jealousy and resentment. but... spending more time with artists who are kind of at the same ssstage of figuring things out as i was, as much as any individual journeys can ever be “the same,” was much more encouraging and inspiring and energizing, and helped me reset my concept of what “success” means for independent creatives into something more healthy. don’t wear yourself out chasing after people who seem to be moving way faster than you, especially if it’s making you feel like shit! find some people who are walking at a pace you can relate to, take interest in their stuff, talk and form connections. you’ll feel better.

4. just draw the stuff you want to even if you don’t think it has audience appeal. literally just draw exactly what makes you happy. this sounds like i’m trying to pull some corny Just Be Yourself! Believe In Your Art! shit and i mean yeah i guess but i also mean that literally from experience there was a significant surge in interest + appreciation of my work when i went apeshit and just decided to do the most self indulgent shit possible no matter how cliche or tacky or cringe or whatever it was. people respond to sincerity and passion, i really believe that. people can tell when you’re having fun and they like it. who doesn’t wanna be around someone who’s always having fun

that’s about all the stuff that i think could be considered like.... more or less universal. i dunno!!! just keep at it. the internet is a nightmare i don’t really know how it works