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marigoldenblooms · 1 month

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An Important Lesson - One-Shot

Pairing: Professor!Wanda x Fem!Reader (MINORS DNI - 18+)

Prompt: After years of rigorous study, you were nearing the end of your graduate program. Companionship had become a figment of your imagination, until your film professor caught your eye. Taking something from her desk, you hope you could catch hers- and you got more than you bargained for.

MINORS DNI - 18+

Tags: Who is Y/N I don’t know her, Dom!Wanda, Sub!Reader, Porn with plot, teasing, orgasm denial, vibrator use, thigh riding, Mommy kink, Professor kink (sparingly), no aftercare, slight dub-con, dumbification, praise, dom/sub dynamics, power imbalance (professor/student), age gap (Reader is 26 while Wanda is 34), brat taming if you squint.

A/N: Holy balls, I did not realize smut was so hard to write. Major kudos to all who seem to do it so effortlessly! I know I envy ‘em. This is my first foray into writing this kind of fic (my university’s spring break has brought a lot of writing firsts), so if you have any feedback I’d love to hear it! This is also vaguely proofread! Wanted to do some practice before the evental sex in Unica Sempter Avis (Because USA is certainly an Abbreviation of All Time), and other ideas I’ve got cooking up. I'd love to write another part to this, if y'all would be down! Thanks y'all again! Edit: An Important Lesson is getting a second part! Read a teaser here! >:)

Word Count: 2.5k - Read length: 9 minutes, 5 seconds. Pictures aren't mine, credit to their owners! ~~~

The pen hadn’t been worth stealing, and yet here you were.

Professor Maximoff’s classroom was overwhelmingly quiet, dark and empty with familiar rows of tables curved in a half arc around her desk, pushed off to the side. She’d always pace within the front few rows where you sat, and you’d have to crane your neck to keep her in view when you weren’t scribbling down paraphrases of what she said. She taught Advanced Film and Media Critique, which generally lended itself to analyzing the shit out of old TV shows. Maximoff was a difficult professor, but you weren’t looking for easy, especially in your graduate program. After a few years of working your ass off to make enough money, you’d wiped the floor with your bachelors and now you were vying for your masters, in your last few weeks of grad school. And you knew Professor Maximoff liked you, which didn’t make it so bad.

You knew other things about her too - for instance, there was no way she wasn’t a lesbian. Whenever you’d raise your hand her eyes would snap to you, and you swear her face would curl into a smile that was beyond professional. You’d catch her staring in your direction during exams on multiple occasions (to be fair you did the same when she wasn’t looking, but that’s besides the point), and you swear up and down that she winked at you during your midterm. She’d hold onto your hand a little too long when you turned in papers, and always offered ‘tutoring’ sessions which you humbly declined in the beginning of the semester, your grade being nigh perfect in her course. Between that, the short nails, tailored suits, and the rings- oh, so many rings- there was no way your professor wasn’t gay, and possibly had the hots for you. Your studies had been your priority over companionship for so long, And now, within a few weeks of your final, why not make a move?

Heist films had been the topic of last week’s lecture, and so nicking something small would be a good segway, right? You’d return it to her tomorrow after class, mention something flirty (perhaps about stealing her heart), and see where it went. If you were lucky, you’d have her number by the end of the course, and perhaps take the older woman to coffee after your final exam. You’d bring her to the movies, but that might turn into more of a lesson than a date.

As you’d pluck a pen from one of her desk drawers, you notice that it was slightly heavier than most. You clicked it once, then a second time- and nothing happened, so it went into your pockets. You’d move to exit the dim room, before a plaque caught your eye- her degree. It was neatly pressed into its frame: Wanda Maximoff, Masters of Arts in Film and Media Studies. You remembered her mentioning she was working on her doctorate, a proud grin sparking at that. Perhaps you’d get to know more about her dissertation and herself shortly. ------------------------------------------

Class went by faster than most, although it didn’t help that you were anxiously awaiting the end of Professor Maximoff’s lecture. She had worn a trim fitted sleeveless blouse and buttoned pants, both beautiful shades of burgundy. A myriad of gold rings decorating her hands as she’d motion with them through her talk. You’d have to keep your eyes off her fingers, nose deep in notebooks as you’d scramble to collect her words before your incoming final exam.

“And what is the significance of I Love Lucy’s laugh tracks?” Wanda would ponder aloud before your hand immediately shot up, the lone attempt out of your fifty or so classmates. She’d grin at you, “Yes, dear?”

You almost forget what you were about to say, holding onto the vestiges of it as you’d sputter, “Oh, uhm- yes, well, I Love Lucy didn’t have laugh tracks, mostly- they were the first sitcom to have a live studio audience.” Her eyes would crinkle with mirth, and you could tell immediately that you had the right answer. You tuned out her words as your mind would swim, thinking back to the weighted pen in your jeans pocket. The pet names were new, settling a joyous fuzz both in your mind and between your legs. It was things like this that had you on the back foot- this was your chance to get her back.

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“And I’ll see you all in two days,” Wanda would return to her desk, sitting atop it rather than in the chair behind it. One of your classmates had asked why in an icebreaker towards the beginning of the semester, and if you remembered correctly she said ‘Just like the view from up here,’ or the like. If you’d been on the same track mind as now, you probably would have noticed how she stared at you during her spiel, a detail only discovered in hindsight. Now, you had all the pieces.

You pack up slowly, shimmying your belongings into your overly stuffed bag. Hanging back until there were few students left, you flag her gaze with a hand and an upturned smile, “Professor, I was wondering if I could..” Your words would halt in your throat, thoughts thickened and syrupy as she’d look down to you, head tilted a degree off kilter. Would it be embarrassing to admit you’d never been this close to her before? Her lips would be pursed, but would break into a wild grin, and you felt yourself melt right there. You weren’t a teen anymore goddamnit, focus- “Talk-” you’d squeak, clearing your throat hastily to camouflage the blunder, “Talk with you, after class. Professor.”

Her brows would raise, and you could almost see the cogs rotating in there. Her eyes would dart within the now-empty room, adjusting her position on the desk- and it’d become increasingly obvious (you can deny it no longer) that you were standing directly in between her slightly parted legs. This wasn’t how you were expecting it to go, but here you were. She’d start taking off her rings. “Of course, darling,” she’d tease again with a roughened lilt. Those damn pet names. “What do you need?”

“I think I have something of yours, Professor-” Your mouth would open a few seconds before you’d speak, and you swear she’d smirk at how she had you, devoid of any thought. Something about her had you smiling and kicking your feet, and boy did she know it. Without any further bravado, you’d pull out the pen, “I hate to say it, but I think you’ve stolen-”

“Oh,” She’d breathe, Wanda’s face tinting with a pinkish hue, yet her smile only grew larger. Her gaze would narrow, voice dripping with a sultry air that almost knocked you off balance, “I didn’t let you borrow that, did I?”

“No Professor,” you admit, beginning to launch into your story, before she’d shush you- shush you, words piling up into a lump in your throat.

“And do you know what it does, darling?” She asks, her tone a breathy whisper now. You swallow, shaking your head no. She fucking giggles. She takes the pen from your hand, clicking it three times, and it’d start to buzz. Oh, my god. It was a fucking vibrator.

“Too dumb to even recognize what this is? And I thought you were so smart..” She’d tease, a flush forming on your face in tandem with a shiver down your body. You open your mouth to speak, and yet her warm, calloused fingers would clasp your jaw shut. “Shhh, don’t want your pretty little head to even think, darling. How about Mommy show you how it works, hm?”

You’d nod immediately. She’d abandon the toy, clicking it off as her hands would slip beneath your shirt, and it felt like time had frozen. She was so soft, and your mind glazed over. Your breath hitched as she’d trail upward, palming your skin before running her fingers over your bare breasts. You’d watch as Wanda’s pupils would blow in seconds, a devious smile bubbling into view, “No bra?” She’d murmur lowly shaking her head as she’d start to knead your flesh, “Just couldn’t remember it, hm? My precious student, too busy thinking of me to get dressed, were you?” You nod again, a pitiful mewl escaping your throat.

“Yes- Yes, Professor..” You arch into her touch, although that bliss was short-lived as you feel her dig her hands further into your tits, sharper than you’d like. She’d tsk at your reply, and you look up to meet her eyes- oh, that was the wrong answer.

“Did you already forget my title, baby?” She’d ask almost tauntingly, her gaze sharpening as she’d shift her hands from your skin. You’d chase her warmth, dazed as your skin would flush and tremble, slotting yourself up against her. She’d run her thumb over your lips, crooning at your immediate submission. She could use that.

“It seems Mommy has a lot to teach you, dear..” Her touch would ghost across your exposed forearms, her feather-light touches only stuttering your breath further. “And I think you’re ready for your first lesson. Think you can handle that, darling? Keep your eyes on me,” Her hands would dig into your jeans, rougher against the hem’s fabric, “Think you can take this off for Mommy?”

“Please..” You beg, raising your hips to strip yourself bare, your glance trained on her. You don’t miss how her eyes darted down to your bare cunt, having slid off your panties too, or how she licked her lips at the sight of your slick. Her hands would hold your legs open, the cold lecture hall’s air chilling your exposed skin. Still staring at Wanda, you’d discard your shirt in the same breath, her jaw clenching as all of you felt the cool air. Feeling exposed, the urge to flee ebbed away some of your arousal. Were you really about to fuck your professor in her own classroom? Your focus was immediately drawn again as she’d capture your chin in her hand, pulling it harshly to meet her gaze. Her eyes were dilated, a thin sheen of sweat on her brow as she’d pant, both from your disobedience and your thighs rubbing against hers. “Look at me,” she’d hiss, taking your lips into a searing kiss. Your answer? Fuck. Yes.

Your cunt would grind against her leg as Wanda would pull your hips up and onto her thigh, grip bruising as your lips would crash together. You could smell her vanilla perfume as she’d tug at your bottom lip with her teeth, a familiar buzzing sound heard but not registered before you felt it on your clit. “Mommy- yes, Fuckin’ christ, there-” You’d keen, lurching back as Wanda’s hand would rest on your hip, keeping you from escaping her touch.

Wanda would groan at your words, voice a little breathier as her hips would stutter against yours, “There’s my good girl..” Teasingly, she’d circle your clit with the pen-shaped toy, gasping herself as she’d feel the aftershocks of its pulse on her clothed cunt. “Taking Mommy’s toy so well..such a sweet girl for your Professor-”

You’d rock your hips against her, the friction from her dress slacks and the vibrator’s pulse bringing you to the edge embarrassingly quick. Wanda wouldn’t notice your frenzied breathing or how you lost your rhythm, but she would hear your words; drawn between husky whines, “Mommy, please, I’m so close, fuck-” Your face would flush, legs beginning to tremble before the whole feeling was ripped away from you, Wanda’s grip leaving as the buzz would click off. With shaky breaths, your eyes would rise to meet hers- only to see a teasing grin. She’d pat your arms, gently coaxing you off of her thigh, the few sparks of friction from that not enough to bring you anywhere close to your release. You’d blink, thoughts thickened and reeling, brow furrowed ever so slightly for her- and Wanda loved it.

“You did so well for your first lesson, dear..” She’d croon, brushing herself off as she’d rise to her feet, leaving you on her cluttered desk. “But, Professor, I didn’t-” You’d begin and she’d silence you right there, hand rising to close your jaw shut again.

“And you won’t come unless you call me by my title, darling. You’ve received your correction for your first mistake- and for stealing from me,” You nodded slowly, absorbing her words as though they were molasses, and her smile only widened at how dazed she’d made you. “And if you disobey again when you’re with me, alone- then I’ll lower your grade by five points. Understand?”

If you were in any kind of fog before, you cleared it from your thoughts immediately. “Yes, very clear- uhm,” You pause, noticing the stain on her pant leg where your pussy had ground into the fabric, and you feel your face warm. Wanda would shift her stance and you’d look up- she leaned above you, a single brow raised. You’d swallow, keeping your eyes on her completely, “Yes, Mommy- I understand.”

“Good girl.” That was the right answer. She’d smile at you, her praise going straight to your cunt. Could she not have given you a few more seconds? Maybe you could’ve gotten off without her noticing. She’d interrupt your mind with a quick peck on the lips, and you felt your wits slow, swimming with thoughts of her mouth. Oh, that was why- couldn’t get away with anything if you didn’t think anything at all. Wanda’s grin would only intensify as she’d watch you dress, clothing rumpled from the haste it had been taken off. After a few minutes, you were back to prim and proper..besides your racing heart and flush whenever Wanda so much as moved. “This was great..” You’d murmur, pressing the wrinkles from your shirt, gaze flicking back up to Wanda’s- your professor still watching you with a smooth, secretive smirk.

“Of course it was, dear..but it’s still nice to hear you say that. Anything for my best student,” She’d wink at you and you’d fold, feeling your palms clam up. Since when were you this weak in the knees? She’d settle at her desk again, her hands clasped together on its wooden grain. You’d be taller than her now, with her sitting down- and yet there was an aura she commanded that you couldn’t outdo. You turn to leave without any further fanfare but her voice would seize you again, just as warm as her touch. “I’ll be expecting you after tomorrow’s classes, then? I think some…after-hours remedial work for my course would do you well.”

Were you really about to fuck your professor in her own classroom, again? You’d leave her hall with a bright smile, a reply, and a secret. Your answer? The same as before - Fuck. Yes.

And your secret?

You’d stolen the ‘pen’ again.

#bearrrwrites #minors dni #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda smut #dom!wanda #sub!reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #college au #one shot #smut fic #wlw ns/fw #god why was this so hard #once again #fuck it we ball

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poetryincostume · 8 months

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With life and a back-breaking work schedule for a couple of years - until now, thank you greedy film studios - I have barely undertaken, nevermind finished, any personal sewing projects. This meant that when Star Wars Celebration returned to my neck of the woods this year I had no costumes to wear even if I had the energy to spend a day sweating and Uncomfy. But I needed something swarsy, even if just for a minute!

That led to me bashing this jacket together so I could put together a vaguely Hera Syndulla inspired look. The franchise and I may be at odds, but my general will always have my heart. Draped on the Tuesday night, made on the Wednesday, slip-stitched the lining in on Friday night after a day at the con and worn on the Saturday. I think the end result was quite lovely!

I called this a ‘doodle’, as I was effectively sketching the idea of a jacket with only a vague idea of what I wanted to achieve: a short cropped jacket, possibly a grown kimono collar and power shoulders since I already had XL raglan pads pinned to my dress form for the Arcane jacket I’ve been tooling with for a year and a half (and finally finished a month ago.)

The drape evolved into panels as there is one thing I love: unnecessary panelling. This also felt appropriately Swarsy. To lean into that Her Syndulla pilot/70’s workwear vibe I wanted a back yoke and vent. (You can tell this was a super quick project bc it has a side seam and these days I am morally opposed to side seams.)

Some semblance of shaped achieved I dove straight into smashing a pattern together from the drape, and decided that I would work out any issues as I went.

The main fabric is a coated scoured cotton I bought several years ago for a Hera jacket (inspired by the Lego series) so it’s come vaguely full circle back to it’s original intention. Ish.

As I was cutting I decided it needing piping! Yes! Piping is very fun and rebellionish, and another of my favourite things. It adds a lovely definition to panelling whilst also adding support to the fairly exaggerated silhouette. The piping was made from a stretching cotton twill that I dyed several years ago for an(other) abandoned Hera project.

The piping led to an abundance of topstitching as a lazy way to keep all seam allowances in place, and then becoming a tribute to Jyn Erso and her topstitching.

The jacket was then lined in a brown fine grosgrain that I inherited from a job, which was quickly slipped stitched in. I faced the cuffs with the wrong side of the main fabric to have a featured turn back.

The final look thrown together at the most exhausted, low-effort Celebration. I was aiming for cool modern Hera Syndulla but the end result was much more April O’Neill.

There are a number of grain issues, particularly with the back panels and vents that I didn’t particularly bother to finesse from the drape to the cutting. But it’s fine! It’s a funky little jacket for one event, no one got what I was going for but I did get some compliments. And most of all I got the satisfaction of actually making something from beginning to end in a period of exhausted personal sewing drought.

#project: celebration jacket #project: Hera syndulla #extant projects: 2023 #media: Star Wars #media: original #cosplay #bounding #sewing #poetry in costume #project: doodle

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woodandwaxwings · 5 months

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Behind Blue Eyes

"He couldn't help but look at him and search for those familiar blue eyes he had come to love only for them to be not there, for doe brown eyes to be in the place of his favorite watercolor blues."

Warnings: PTSD attack towards the end. loosely described though.

Y/n sighed as the bus he was taking stopped outside Jericho's bus stop. Now he had to commit to leaving Florida and the other peculiars he had grown up with, went to war with. Now he was in Vermont in a small town nobody but peculiars and outcasts would give more than half a shit about. Y/n smiled as 'you can tell she's a princess' from some Barbie movie he had never bothered to watch came from his phone, garnering odd looks as he picked up the phone. "Hey, Claire. I see you've finally learned how a phone works." Claire laughed on the other end, "Shut up! Are you there yet?" Y/n could almost imagine her twisting the honey-blonde curls she let grow out between her fingers. "I just got off the bus in Jericho. Do you know how far Vermont is from Florida? Really far." Y/n walked down the streets of Jericho, probably looking like he had just escaped an old film with his luggage bag he'd had since 1939 before being sent off to Miss Peregrine it was garnered in stickers Abe had sent with his letters to Emma. His outfit didn't help much despite Jake taking him shopping not long after arriving in Florida. With his flare jeans and corduroy jacket, he looked like someone had let one of the characters from That 70s Show loose in a mall. And his tattoos of course didn't help the strangers in small town Jericho from staring.

"How's school in Florida?" Y/n asked Claire as he entered a small coffee shop. After all the traveling, he was thirsty and tired and could go for some coffee. "Oh my bird, it's awesome! I've made so many friends..." He let Claire rant as he ordered a coffee from a long-haired brunette boy behind the counter. Y/n smiled and gave the boy a "thank you," as he handed him his coffee. He heard someone yell at Claire over the phone as he set down in a booth facing the entrance of the coffee shop. "Hey, Y/n, I gotta go. I'll talk to you later, ok? Remember, don't be weird. Mwah," He smiled as he shut off his phone after she hung up and drank his coffee to regain the energy he had lost from the travel. "Where'd you come from?" Y/n looked up from his coffee to see another brunette boy with short hair. "Florida," Y/n spoke, her German accent pushing through his words making the boy laugh as he sat across from him uninvited. "Diese Schlampe,"(this bitch) Y/n murmured to himself. "Doesn't sound like it," The boy across from him said.

Y/n rolled his eye as he looked at the clock, "Ich habe keine Zeit dafür."(I don't have time for this) He said as he stood up and grabbed his bag, the boy across from him standing as well. "No seriously, where'd you come from." "Germany, then Wales, then Florida." He said as he pushed passed the boy in front of him, leaving the coffee shop and the annoying boy behind. He had only been there for about 30 minutes and he was already starting to hate this town, but a promise is a promise. He watched a different bus stop at the bus stop and several kids in uniforms exit. He knew he was supposed to get on that bus but as he looked for the driver's eyes, only for them to be concealed by dark sunglasses he decided right then it would be a better idea to walk to Nevermore. He'd take possible haunted woods over wights any day. He began to walk in the direction that the bus had come from, his fingers shaking as he had to turn his back to the man, mentally preparing himself to trigger his peculiarity hollows be damned.

"Well, look who decided to step out of the 40s." Y/n turned on his heels as he recognized the voice from behind him. "Yoko, hallo." She and the girl on her side walked up to him. "Was machst du in Jericho?" (What are you doing in Jericho) She asked him. Y/n vaguely remembered Yoko from his early years in the children's home before it became his loop. Her fathers were friends with Miss Peregrine. "Wieso bist du nicht tot?"(How are you not dead) She asked as she looked him over, noticing that he was 17 and not 13 or dirt. "The library is gone." He answered in English, noticing Yoko's companion's confusion. "It's real?" Y/n shrugged, "Was real." Yoko noticed his eyes darting back to the bus behind them. "Er ist ein Mensch." (he is human.) Yoko said and watched as his shoulders relaxed. "Benutzen Sie den Bus. (use the bus) It's faster than walking." Y/n nodded as he walked past them and got on the bus. "Another bus ride," Y/n thought to himself as he sat down and the bus began made its way back to Nevermore.

"Sorry for scarin' ya' kid." Y/n looked away from the window and to the bus driver. "You're not the first peculiar kid to try walkin' to Nevermore instead of getting on my bus." Y/n nodded, "Sorry for assuming." The bus driver shook his head as he stopped at the school, "Never apologize for being safe." Y/n nodded as he got off the bus, "Thanks for the ride." The bus driver nodded, "Just doin' my job." Y/n gave the man a smile as he walked through the front entrance of Nevermore. He sighed. If only Victor was here with him if only this was 20 years ago. "if only"s could go on forever, but here he was alone. "Hi," He looked down at the boy who spoke to him. "Hi," He looked the young boy up and down, he could only be about 14. "I'm Eugene Ottinger, peculiar. Principal Weems thought you would be more comfortable with one of us leading you around, and I was the only one available." Y/n nodded as he ranted he reminded him a lot of Millard. "I heard you came from a loop. Is that true? I've never been in a loop before. What can you do? I have a psychic connection to bees," Y/n followed behind him as the young boy guided him around the school. He suddenly stopped, "This is Weems's office. She'll get you enrolled and show you to your dorm." Y/n nodded as he knocked on the door, Eugene leaving him behind.

"You must be Y/n L/n." A tall blonde woman, who Y/n assumed was Principal Weems, said as she opened the door. "Come in," She pulled the door further open, letting him walk into her office. "Very rarely do we ever get peculiars here." Y/n nodded, "Most of us stick to loops instead of school." Weems nodded as she sat behind her desk. "School doesn't start for another 3 days so you should have plenty of time to get situated." She said as Y/n looked around her office. "Do I have to buy a uniform or are they provided?" Y/n asked as he finally sat down on the other side of her desk. "They are provided." Principal Weems set a paper down facing him, "You've already registered so no need for any mindless paperwork. I'll give you you uniform before showing you to your dorms and then your roommate can give you a tour of the school." Y/n nodded as Miss Weems stood and grabbed a purple box that was set off to the side. "Nevermore's welcome package," She said as she handed it to Y/n. "Shall I show you to your dorm room now?" She asked but it wasn't really a question as she opened the door to her office and gestured for him to exit.

"Nevermore prides itself on being a diverse learning environment for all of it's attendants." Weems began the welcome speech spiel. "You'll find that all of our outcasts intermingle well," Her words were said in a tone that screamed 'behave'. "And that is something our school would like to continue to pride itself on." Y/n nodded as she walked down the dormitory halls, "You'll be rooming with Ajax Petropolus." Weems said as she opened the door to one of the dorm rooms, "Who does not appear to be here," She mumbled under her breath as she let Y/n into the room. As Y/n set his suitcase and "welcome package" down on the bare twin bed on the right side of the dorm a boy rushed into the room. "Sorry," He said to both him and the principal as he fixed his beanie. "Hi, Ajax," He stuck his hand out for Y/n to shake and that's when he really got a look at him. Shit, he was screwed. The universe must hate him because he couldn't help but look at him and search for those familiar blue eyes he had come to love only for them to be not there, for doe brown eyes to be in the place of his favorite watercolor blues.

"Y/n," He finally said when he realized he was staring, hesitantly shaking his hand. "Cool," Ajax said, seemingly oblivious. "I'll leave you to get situated," Weems said as she left, shutting the door behind her. Y/n then stepped back and walked back to his side of the room, "What happened to your previous roommate?" He asked as he opened his luggage bag, placing the framed picture of him and Victor face down on his bedside table. "He graduated," Ajax said as he sat on his own bed. "So what's your deal?" Y/n paused in his unpacking, turning to face his roommate, "What?" Ajax shrugged, "Y'know, what's your thing? Are you a psychic? Werewolf?" Y/n nodded, "Oh. I'm peculiar." Ajax shrugged, "Well I wouldn't say peculiar, but you do dress a little weird." "Bist du dumm?" (Are you stupid?) Y/n asked as he shoved his clothes into the dresser drawer that also seemed to be a table. "Excuse me?" Ajax shook his head. "I'm peculiar, as in that's my thing." Ajax just gave him a confused stare. "Forget it. Aren't you supposed to give me a tour of the school or something?"

The gorgon shot up from his bed, "Right! Sorry, forgot." Y/n felt almost disoriented as he watched Ajax. Everything about him was exactly the same but so different to Victor, like the reflection in a distorted mirror came to life. "So this is one of four dormitory halls. There are two girls' dormitories and two boys' dormitories." Ajax begins as he exits the room, expecting Y/n to follow him and he does. "Nevermore was founded by Nathaniel Faulkner in 1791, the dormitories being added on in 1840 and were renovated in 1940." Y/n nodded as he followed Ajax down the stairs to the courtyard. "I'm not going to have to memorize any of this, am I?" Y/n watched as his brown eyes went wide like a deer in the headlights, "Huh? Oh, no. It's just a bunch of crap." Y/n looked around the courtyard to find it almost barren. "I figured there'd be more people here." Ajax looked over the courtyard as well, "Yeah, most people will be showing up tomorrow to get unpacked and stuff. Oh yeah, um, this is the courtyard. Mostly everyone eats their meals here." The two walked around the courtyard to an Edgar Allen Poe statue. "This is our statue in tribute to Edgar Allen Poe, I'm like 90% sure he was like an alumni."

"I don't give a shit about Edgar Allen Poe," Y/n said as he looked Ajax up and down. "Do we have to wear our uniforms all the time?" Ajax shrugged, "I mean most people tend to wear theirs while on campus." Y/n nodded. "So is that a no? yes?" The two stared at each other for a moment, and then a short blonde girl approached them. "Hey, Ajax!" She spoke excitedly. Both boys turn to face her as if being snapped out of a trance. "Oh hey, Enid. " Ajax looked between the two people in front of him. "Enid this is Y/n." HE pointed to Y/n and then pointed to Enid, "Y/n this is Enid. She's a werewolf." Y/n nodded and stuck his hand out for the girl to shake. Enid shakes his hand but doesn't let go of it. "Oh my gosh!" She turns his hand over so the back of his hand is facing upward. "I love your tattoo! Is it real?" Y/n could practically imagine a tail wagging behind her. "Yeah. A friend of mine chose it for me. She said to just use my peculiarity with it whenever I miss her."

Ajax furrows his brows as he leans to look at the thickly lined butterfly. "What can you do?" He and Enid asked almost in sync. Y/n smiled a cheeky smile as he placed his other hand over the top of the one Enid still had a tight grip on. "Wach auf."(Wake up) He whispered before removing his hand to reveal a live black and white butterfly sitting on his hand where the tattoo was. Enid giggled as the butterfly flew up to her nose, following Y/n's eyes as he mentally guided it. "Cool," Enid mumbled as it sat on her face. She jumped as Y/n swatted his hand out to grab the insect and the two watched as the tattoo faded back onto his hand. "Sweet. It's kinda like Xavier's powers." Y/n nodded despite not knowing who they were talking about. There then was a sudden boom that resembled a cannon being fired or a boulder falling. Y/n's heart picked up as he squeezed his eyes shut and slammed his hands so hard over his ears that they began to ring. Memories he wished he did a better job at pushing down came flooding to the surface as he grew lightheaded.

#ajax petropolus #ajax #ajax x reader #ajax petropolis x reader #ajax petropolus x reader #ajax petropolis #x male reader #male reader #x reader #mphfpc #male y/n #wednesday #wednesday series #victor bruntley x reader #victor bruntley #miss peregrines home for peculiar children

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sideralwriting · 8 months

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Sailing Ships - Summer ACOTAR Writing Circle

I want to say sorry both to the previous writers and to @azrielshadowssing, who organized the event. Thank you so much for your patience waiting for my update. I hope you enjoy the ending!

Part 1 here by @foreverinelysian

Part 2 here by @writtenonreceipts

Words: 1700 for this part, around 7k in total. Cassian curses once, so warning for cursing.

° - ° - ° - ° - ° - °

The cruise had been a complete disaster, as everything in the most recent period of her life. Nesta’s only sure point in her world was now her studies. It’s not that she wanted so, quite the opposite. She had loved the time where she had both her exams to excel in and a loving family to return to. A lovely hug to return to. She just hated that for others one of the two things had always to come first, that only because her priorities weren’t the same as someone else’s, then they had to be wrong. And what she hated even more was that Cassian gave up.

He had given up on her, on their future, without even looking back. Without even letting her go through the hell of a period that has been that session in peace and listening to her when her head would have been clearer. Because Nesta wanted to share her life with Cassian. He was fit for her, he made her feel alive and burning with passion and supported. And she felt like she had ruined her life compass. Seeing him on the cruise tilted her view once more. Why did they fight? Why could he see her focus on her studies and accept it? Maybe she was the one in the wrong? But what wrong could she do when she was cooped up in her room most of the time? As if summoning him with just a thought, there he is, standing in line to get off the cruise boat. After leaving her once again in the middle of the night. Their eyes met while Nesta reached the end of the line, far behind Cassian.

° - ° - ° - ° - ° - °

He left her. Cassian knew that if he had stayed she would have been mad for coming and going as he pleased, of always doing as he pleased. Of taking advantage of a situation in which she was weaker and in need of attentions. She was sick, for goodness’s sake. Witnessing to last night made him question if she suffered alone all those days. She probably had, as he knew her and how good she was putting up a wall in front of others. Rhys and Feyre had been particularly eager at the idea of the cruise: could it be that they organized it all? If it was so, he couldn’t think if he wanted to shout at them for making Nesta sick or thanking them for the opportunity to see her once again. He missed her so much that the moment their eyes met as she arrived for landing, he felt a spark in his head, a missed beat in his chest. Did he do the right thing leaving everything, leaving her, behind? Of course, so he couldn’t let her down anymore, so she could focus more on what she loved and less on… well, him. Proud was also a peculiarity of their nature. He wasn’t always right, but if he was someone’s boyfriend he wanted at least some respect on their part. Mother above, why was it so difficult to show your point of view without hurting the person you loved?

° - ° - ° - ° - ° - °

The landing was slow and chaotic, hugs and shouts and a slow-moving crowd made a chill crawl up her skin. She was still recovering from the previous night and wanted peace and quiet. As soon as possible. She walked toward the taxi rank and was met with an even bigger crowd of suitcases and crying children. Elain and Feyre sent her a message informing her that they couldn’t be there due to a quite strong hangover from the night before —Feyre at least, Elain wanted to stay by her side— and suggested she took a taxi. She pulled out her phone and started filming a short video of the crowd, before sending it to them with a “thanks for the suggestion” message attached to it.

She had just put the phone away when a dark-haired guy approached her. “Hey there” he started with a grin forming on his lips. She vaguely remembered him from the cruise. “You are the one who was soaked in alfredo sauce, last night”. Yes, he was definitely on the cruise.

Embarrassment started creeping up on her: what if someone filmed it? What if someone recognized her? What— “So what?” she was buying time to understand why he was in front of her. Was there a way to get out of the situation?

“What do you think of going on a date?” the guy asked handing her a black paper that looked suspiciously like a calling card.

Luckily she was spared from the stalling situation thanks to a broad hand snatching the card away from the guy. “Who the fuck uses a calling card to give a girl his phone number?” Cassian’s voice was impossible to forget, as it was the cool amusement and the feral grin she found on his face. He was at her left, bringing the card to his face. “Bellius, huh? What a name” Cassian commented before pocketing the paper, putting the other arm around her shoulders, ”anyway, I’ll keep this one. If I find you around my girlfriend again, it will be the first thing I’ll hand to the cops”. His fingers twitched as the guy made for a run cursing them.

“Your girlfriend?” Nesta asked as soon as they were alone and moving to the head of the crowd.

“What? He didn’t need details about us. Even if we broke up, I can still care for your well-being, you know?” She stayed silent until they reached a lone taxi and run for it.

Cassian wanted to take a different one even if the wait for the next one was around fourty minutes, but Nesta refused. It was futile to do so as he could continue with the taxi for wherever he lived now and that they could split up the payment. So, they loaded their suitcases into the car and sat behind.

° - ° - ° - ° - ° - °

They were isolated from the driver thanks to a glass panel, and that was the only encouragement Nesta needed as she sat straight, looking out of the car window. The sea was full of boats and glistening under the morning sun. “You broke up with me” she mumbled.

“What?” Cassian asked, and she could have sworn that she felt him whipping his head.

She took two breath before repeating raising her voice a bit more: “You broke up with me. Not we. You.” There it was again, her treacherous heart, racing and skipping beats. “You told me you wanted a break,” she couldn’t stop now, the words flowing towards the window instead of their true recipient, “then the next thing I see is an apartment half empty, my gifts and pictures for you in a box, your keys at the entrance.” She still had issues remembering everything of those nights a little more than a month ago. Panic was rising again.

He didn’t say anything. Of course not, they were facts, not questions. So she went on with the facts. “I was doing something I like and which required all my attention in order to become the best out there, where the only thing that matters is what I know and how I apply it. Am I too absorbed in it? Maybe.” She stopped to breath, pulling down the car window. “And so are you in your job, that I know you care about as much as I care about mine. We took our relationship for granted. But what I couldn’t change was what happened next. You vanished.” She turned towards him, her cold mask in place to avoid breaking down in front of the driver.

Cassian sat against the seat, leaning his head against it. His eyes locked on hers as soon as she turned and complete devastation was in them. “You vanished and I don’t like it. You vanished,” his pressed-together lips trembled but he never broke the stare, “you vanished, and I missed you. I still do.” A tear broke from them at the same time, and Nesta felt her proud go silent. As he was. Do you miss me?, she wanted to ask. But she didn’t.

° - ° - ° - ° - ° - °

As soon as they reached her apartment, she paid her share and went to unload her suitcase. As she turned at the car’s back, she was met by Cassian with both their luggages waiting on the sidewalk. The taxi went away and they were on her doorsteps.

“I do,” he said.

“You do what, exactly?”

“I do miss you.” How could he know what she was thinking? “I know you, Nes. I know it was difficult for you saying those things. We made mistakes. And I do miss you.”

He advanced toward her, and she felt her heart feeling at rest. This was right, so why did they do it wrong the first time? The sun was high in the midmorning blue sky and the light made him glow. Or maybe was the aftermath of the last five days.

“I just ask you to be more present,” he started again, “Give me some cuddles and similar” he lifted a hand and pulled some hair behind Nesta’s ear and the burning started anew, “you can even read me whatever book you have in your hands and explain things to me. I just ask not to be left outside a closed door. On my part, I’ll do anything I can to come home earlier and give you all the attentions and support you need.”

Nesta stood on her toes, and he bowed so she could rested her brow against his. “I’m ready to put a stop to my break, Nes. Would you accept me again?” Tears streamed down her face, even if she tried to keep the mask on. She could feel the need to always be by his side, to share her life with him, to laugh and love again. She nodded. “I need to hear your voice to be sure this is what you truly want, Nes.”

Nesta took a long breath and declared “I accept you”.

Trembling, Cassian kissed her and for once, she didn’t care if they had audience or not.

Once again, her world was right.

Once again, his world was complete.

— — —

I hope you enjoyed reading! Cassian and Nesta are characters so interesting that when @azrielshadowssing told be I had to write the last chapter for them my head went blank! How to write complex characters? How to make them make up? I hope I made the characters justice in that regard.

#acotarwritingcircle #nessian #nesta x cassian #acotar fanfiction #nessian fanfiction

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bugsbenefit · 3 months

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do you have where the duffers said that there will be pre-time skip scenes? I thought it was all fan speculation

don't have that handy as a legit source rn sorry, i can only give you word of mouth that originally, right post s4 coming out, the Duffers mentioned in an interview that they would do a time skip again (to account for the actors ages and time lost with the pandemic filming delays) and that it would happen a few episodes into s5. they brought up the idea of it happening around episode 2. and that s5 would pick right back up where s4 ended. opposed to filming s4 and s5 back to back like what their original plan was. but they were also vague and things clearly weren't finalized yet

so the obvious conclusion at the time was that there would be pre time jump scenes (episode 1 and potentially 2) and that's all we had to go on for over a year and that's why a lot of people are so sure there will be a significant amount of time spent pre time skip

but that was all the way back in 2022 and wasn't repeated since

personally, i definitely think there's a possibility the time skip is going to happen right into s5. which would also help them avoid pacing nightmares like having to "re-start" the action/tension build up over an hour into the final season

but from where we are right now we just really don't know how they'll do the time skip. a lot of people are very adamantly sticking with what was said in that one initial interview, but, again, that was a single interview from autumn of 2022. so yk. what people also took to mean time spent pre time skip is the Duffers saying s5 will jump "right back into the action" since they don't need to establish motive for the characters anymore (actually Do have a link for one of those articles lmao). but the opening of s5 going fast could also easily be meant to be post time skip. there just won't be much introducing the characters or having them find the plot anymore, that's going to happen whether we pick back up where we left off or start up post time skip

but lacking confirmation by the Duffer's aside there is a few things suggesting they already filmed more than what we saw in s4, which would make sense as pre time skip scenes for s5 since the actors would still be the same age and they wouldn't have to rebook old locations, like:

bts of Rinkomania existing of things we never saw in the show. like Will wearing the outfit from the van trip and finale. despite the filming in that location happening in an incredibly short amount of time which would mean a packed filming schedule

bts existing of the cast sitting in the Sinclair's living room while in full costume (might add a link to that later but i don't have it handy right now)

also the script of the final episode we got by the official writers account not ending on the usual ending but on a literal "end season" cliffhanger, which a lot of people took as there potentially being more they filmed of that scene as an opening for the next season (that's purely speculative tho, not as solid as the other two things where we have image proof, i'm just mentioning it bc i've seen it discussed before, so just to cover Everything yk)

since we know so little, those could be scenes we see right away, but that could also be flashbacks we see later on, post time skip. so while there are things pointing to there being more 1986 scenes filmed that we haven't seen yet, that's not really indicative of when the time skip itself will happen

my Current personal guess is super early into e1 but that's not based on anything specific except what i think would make the most sense from a logistical and story telling pov (opinion up to change at any moment based on news we get tho)

#ask tag #st s5 #not having sources for everything i'm saying all the time is genuinely the horror for me btw #i should go and try to look for that initial interview for real sometime lmao #it's become a thing of legend by now #but ik it got buried to hell and back by the shitton of 'speculative' s5 articles in 2022/3 that farmed engagement and said nothing #that thing was already hard to find in january of last year when someone went looking for it and it was only a few months old then #looking for it now definitely didn't get easier

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endcant · 9 months

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ive seen a lot of speculation by aesthetics commentators (a strange existence to acknowledge) about why some zillennial gays seem to connect a lot with natural imagery despite the ~*cottagecore aesthetic*~ being increasingly associated with white cishet (& frequently xtian) traditionalism. many many possible explanations are acknowledged but theres parts of it that mean a lot to me but which i rarely see acknowledged

first of all, being gay/lgbt/queer is really beautiful and natural. and there are a lot of forces in society that seem to want to stomp out all the beautiful and natural things in this world for the sake of short term profit or power. this is the case at least in the US, but likely in other places as well.

i think there are a lot of other groups (nonwhite and non-traditionalist and non-white-traditionalist) that also connect with the idea that nature and natural things are worthwhile, even when they are not considered worthwhile to the white/cishet/evangelical/colonial/etc powers that be.

i feel this especially in this time when a lot of technofuturistic developments are being backed by famous self-serving billionaires and other various navelgazing silicon valley plutocrats that are still following the “move fast and break things” ethos, even as they move quickly onto breaking things in the human brain, in infrastructure, in politics, in labor, in housing and feeding people, in the ecosystem and so on.

furthermore, i think a lot of lgbt+ people long for privacy in a way that the always-on social media panopticon we live in straight up doesn’t allow. basically ever since tiktok came on the scene, there seemed to be a surge in gay interest in times when you could just disappear and live your gay life somewhere entirely else, without having to deal with everybody you once knew messaging you about your new pronouns or partner or whatever. yeah, those vague “old times” fucking sucked in a lot of other ways (i would not actually want to hack it as a cowboy i would be shot to death by some zachary taylor type for riding my horse while brown or id die of heat exhaustion or getting kicked in the head or some shit. also reading about the 1800s is depressing in a billion colonialist ways) despite all that, it feels like there is nowhere to run now. there is no “other place” to escape to, because numerous forces are trying to make all places into one big horrible homogenous place. speaking only technologically, people will film you for looking weird in public and post it thoughtlessly. people will dox you BECAUSE it’s dangerous to your life and livelihood. our technological present is not a great situation for lgbt ppl, queer ppl, gnc ppl, and people who otherwise awesomely and naturally differ from the ridiculously numerous and specific expected societal “norms”.

sometimes i want to live in a cave and only be seen by spiders and mosquitoes for the rest of my life. this would likely be both unbearably slow and unbearably laborious living, but at least i would not be at risk of being put in danger for being seen in public. this is not a statement of traditional or colonial values or actual intent to stake a claim on a cave somewhere. it is just tough to be gay and trans and fat and neurodivergent and visibly nonwhite while living in the panopticon. and i have to come up with an escape fantasy besides dignified death to write in my little journal about.

there are so many reasons for people who are not libertarians or fundies or tradwife girlies to long to stop and smell the roses one last time before they’re gone. and you feel it so much more when you are part of a beautiful and natural community (or multiple beautiful and natural communities) that fundies and traditionalists and racists and the other assholes of the world really really want to wipe out, which happens to include gays.

obviously (i hope obviously) this all applies to so much more than just hs gays. i just keep seeing it treated as a mystery that lgbt+ ppl are interested in natural and “cottagecore”/“grandmacore” imagery. even tho there were tons of gays and poc and disabled eco-punks and DIY advice-givers and trans mlm cowboy kids and whatever else in the space that would eventually become the cottagecore space on tumblr in the 2010s before that controversial name ever came about.

#draftsposting

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devakey · 2 years

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Major Study : New Learning

As someone who had never worked on a complete animated project besides the short weekly assignments in Media 2, I found the task of completing a self-initiated Major Study Project quite daunting. The weekly assignments had helped me learn some basics about animation that I was able to improve upon. They had also showed the flaws in my process and parts where I was slightly lacking, in the first semester of the program.

With this in mind, I wanted to use a cleaner, more organised system for my Major Study Project. Under the guidance of my professor, I refined and finalised the concept that I had brainstormed and come up with. After sketching out some possible scenarios and scenes that I wanted to include to tell my story, I went over the narrative in each shot to ensure that it was coming across well. As this was something I had received constructive criticism over before, I looked for several ways to get my point across visually. After showing my professor the rough storyboard, I set out to make the animatic. During this, I learnt how to pace my story better and what I needed to emphasise upon. This also meant that I had to change certain shots so the transitions would be smoother or make more sense for the story or the geography of the setting.

I learnt how to frame shots better and apply my observations from film. The camera placements and movements add a lot to the narrative and through trial and error, I figured out which particular shot would work better for a scene.

The animation itself needed to be dynamic while also maintaining the visual style throughout the film. I struggled with this a bit since I had to take a break and get back to working on my film due to my deferral. I had to get used to the style once again and it felt less intuitive and natural than before, for a while. Once I was able to get back in the groove, I realised that along with having changed my style, I had also gained a fresher perspective on the film. I had better ideas to execute certain scenes and was more practical about the time constraints this time around, deciding to cut some parts and animate others more efficiently.

My biggest learnings throughout the duration of the project and working on other parts of the module were about scheduling and time management. Following a schedule is challenging for me and I realised that I was often lagging behind, having to edit my timeline often. This, in turn, meant that I had to manage my time more effectively and work on finding a way to customise a schedule in a way that would work for me personally. I noticed that I worked faster and thus more efficiently when I sectioned the animations into smaller bits so I could tick something off the list faster and felt more motivated because the tasks felt less formidable and vague. It also improved my focus and I noticed that the little breaks I would reward myself with seemed more circumscribed.

Notwithstanding my love for writing, documentation was the part of the module that I struggled with finishing the most. I felt restricted by the format but after studying it and writing similar types of posts together, I got used to the format and gained traction.

I learned a lot about myself as an animator and about how to drive and manage myself better through this module. My learnings should help me a lot moving forward, and the project overall also made me realise how much I enjoy creating work of my own.

#majorstudy

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lifewithoutmeds · 2 years

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August 28, 2022

Early Sunday afternoon as of time of this writing. 1:20 p.m. to be exact. It’s been another rather “chill” weekend, which i’ve enjoyed. i’ve checked off most of the things on today’s “to do list,” and this is one of the last items. to be fair, many of the items were rather simple tasks, each lasting typically less than ten minute, but it still feels nice to check them off.

some of the items: take meds. make bed. wash dishes. journal. shower. vacuum. scrub toilet, etc. this week i was actually able to do some really productive and competent work. i felt like i had good amounts of sleep/rest during the night and motivation/caffeine during the day, and was able to kind of keep myself going at a pace that did not feel me with dread/anxiety/regret/hopelessness/futility of existence as i sometimes am prone to do. worked from home mostly on my usual days, with the addition of tuesday afternoon and all of thursday as a result of some very loud construction taking place directly below my window, and so got to clean more than usual, and so i sort of finished my chores earlier than usual as dishes had been regularly washed, laundry had already been done, etc. i’ve been texting L regularly and we’ve established what i think is a really good and healthy friendship. i’ve kidded a few times about pursuing her and she’s asked if she’d thought she’d been leading me on in any way and i had to admit that she hadn’t been (but i had been leading myself, a lamb to my own slaughter), but we’ve talked about all sorts of friend-ly things and exchanged ideas and dreams and hopes and podcast recommendations/etc. i listened to a science podcast she’d recommended only to find that the latest episode featured none other than high school bff jingmai o’connor, and she watched a youtube SBSK episode i had recommended and i bought a book/pamphlet she recommended and i’m HOPING she’s listening currently to a podcast i recommended which touched on a lot of things we’d discussed such as intuition and meditation and that i think she’d really enjoy.

i also went to the last Hidden Hearts night which took place last thursday and on Lo’s advice, went with the idea that i would not find the love of my life but that i should be rejected five times. i was rejected about three times, which was close enough, but having that mindset really reframed everything and i was able to take the rejection in stride because, well, heck, that’s what i was there for. i even hesitated to hang out with people who were welcoming and trying to bring me into their folds because i was there for rejection, not acceptance! but i should probably take it as a vague compliment that i found acceptance despite trying not to.

i got a few numbers for funsies. but only followed up with the prettiest girl who was also the meanest, turns out, and she hasn’t messaged me back lol.

so, thursday: hidden hearts til about 10:30 a.m. friday: fishing in the am with my momma, where i caught the biggest corbina ever of my life, and then early dinner with lana in the pm, sushi in pasadena (her treat) saturday: slept in, then grace and maddie came over around 3 and swam til maybe about 6. i ordered ubereats (seasoning alley) and slept early. sunday: finished my leftovers, and then proceeded to do a bunch of aforementioned chores, and listened again to the Tim Ferris podcast featuring Hugh Jackman, which is one of my favorite podcast episodes, possibly ever, and even hearing it the third time was still fresh and illuminating.

so now it’s 1:30 p.m. and there’s still plenty of day left. things i might do: meditate. read. eat a pizookie with rhiannon. stretch/yoga. film a short youtube update video. swiffer the floors?

i’m feeling rather satisfied once more with my level of socialization as well as self-care. i’m liking the pace of my weekends lately. they don’t feel as sad, or as frenzied. hoping to keep this up. i do feel like i could use a bit more time for self reflection though, so maybe i can journal say, two times a week instead of the one.

one interesting observation i made in myself today was that i admire physical beauty above all. i worship physical beauty, and not finding it in myself, i worship it in others, i see it as the highest value, and i think that’s why i see myself as nothing. because despite being a decent, hair-above-average-human being in most respects, i see myself as being unattractive, and internalize any rejection of me as being a direct result of that.

i think, it is possible, that if i were to seek out inner beauty in others, and/or to value/prize human character/ethics/morals/etc in other people, then by the same measuring tool, i would actually have some merit, and feel better about myself. but i value such cheap, superficial things. i want to learn to make a more concerted effort in valuing things of actual value.

maybe i should try and list them now/here; generosity thoughtfulness respect for others cleanliness organization carrying through timeliness/punctuality listening directness

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charliedonald · 2 years

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Blog Post 1 Week 8

GROUP ROLES:

Producer: Me

Director: Elliot H

Scriptwriter: Matthew

Editor: Oscar

Art Director: Elliot L

We loosely agreed that me and Oscar would be the sound designers, and that Matthew and Elliot H would be the cinematographers. We did agree though, that for the most part, these roles would be shared between everyone.

Tutorial:

During this first week, I wasn't able to be at the tutorial with my group. To keep me up to date, they supplied me with their story ideas and inspiration through our messenger group chat. I was added to a Google Docs, which had the vague outline of their brainstorm on it.

The Idea:

Our main character is a student that is interested in a fellow student, but doesn't know how to start a conversation with her, or how to get close. The main character sees that his love interest likes sunglasses and starts daydreaming fake scenarios in which he gifts her a pair of her favourite sunglasses, to start a conversation. In the end he comes out of his daydreams to realise he's made no actual progress, and still hasn't even spoken to his love interest.

Throughout the week, we all added in small parts, and sent possible ideas to the chat. One such message was from Oscar, who said "...with his daydreaming however it could be a bit more sinister where he could be daydreaming about doing something bad (and he could say dream a lot of bad stuff) however by the end of the film it hits him in some way that everything he was daydreaming was reality."

I think this idea has it's pros and cons. I made a small list of things I want to talk over with the group the following week, with things I enjoyed and wanted to elaborate on, and things I thought might be best to cut, or change in some way.

Things I like:

It's a classic idea - a romance film - so we have a lot of films to reference. We aren't trying to reinvent the wheel in under 3 minutes.

It's a simple storyline, so it's feasible to achieve in such a short film.

I like the idea of having some sort of motif, in this case the sunglasses. I makes it easy to show rather than tell the emotional state of the characters, as you can use metaphors through the motif.

I like the idea of going a bit more sinister, it adds another layer to the film.

Things I want to change:

The idea of having him realise that he hasn't actually spoken to the love interest, and that he's only daydreaming isn't my favourite. I think it takes away from the impact of what he's done/doing, because the film would end, and the audience would think "oh, well, none of it mattered because nothing actually happened.". It would be stronger if everything that happened had consequences.

I want to elaborate on the sinister aspect, it would up the stakes, and make it more than just a one dimensional romance film.

If we are to have a motif, I want it to be something meaningful. The sunglasses seem a little arbitrary.

3398239 - Tuesday 2pm-4pm Tutorial with Claire.

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taechaos · 3 years

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A Thriller Film

pairing: director!Jungkook x fem!Reader

genre: oneshot, yandere, smut

synopsis: Jungkook's life is his movies, but people don't know his movies are his life. As an anonymous director, no one can suspect him as the villain in a story, but he leaves a clue in his movie about you.

warnings: smoking, stalking, murder, solo masturbation, public fingering

word count: 5.4k

a/n: i don't know why i put so much effort into this but we love to see it flop 🥰

Smoking is bad, but there are worse things in life.

Jungkook noticed you for the first time when a cigarette was hanging off his lips, exhaling the stress from the process of organizing a new thriller film with a less than cooperative crew. Fresh out of high school, you were bright and skipping on the sidewalk in the early hours of the morning. What would such a young woman, applying for colleges left and right, be so happy about?

He didn't know you at the time, but looking at you was like a breath of fresh air. While he survived off of coffee and nicotine, you seemed to have a lot of happiness to share. Your smile was incompatible with his frown.

So he ignored you when you passed him with your earphones blasting a song so loud, he involuntarily caught the lyrics.

Fall... back... in... to... place.

The second time he saw you, he was smoking again and you were just as happy as the day before. How can someone be so in tune with themselves, with life? The same song played from your earphones, the one he listened to on repeat after searching up the lyrics: Space Song. An urge to approach you surged up in him, but he only watched you as you walked past him. A single glance from you was all it took to anticipate tomorrow.

Today, when he recognizes you from your clothing first; colorful, silky, gorgeous. So much personality in one outfit, a polar opposite to his casual black outfit in jeans and a plain shirt. Even your bag is eye-catching, and he flicked the ash off of his cigarette before nodding at you as you passed the bus stop, reaching the front of his studio.

Why did your eyes just widen? You acknowledge him with a friendly smile, and go on your merry way. That is until he lightly taps your shoulder, and you turn instantly.

"Hey," he greets before you can utter a word, "where are you always rushing off to?"

Your lips part in surprise; the man you secretly - guiltily - side-eyed for the past few days noticed you when you weren't looking? "I have an interview. Well, a few," you chuckle.

"For what?" he tilts his head curiously and takes another drag from his stick.

"Career counseling," you plainly reply, but it sounds enthused. "I'm a clueless graduate." Your hands clutch your tote bag before you discreetly check the time on your wrist. You're going to be running late soon.

"You interested in cinematography?" Smoke follows his words, but you aren't fazed.

"I'm interested in all forms of art, why?"

He notices you checking your watch again. "I'm a film director. This is my studio," he cranes his neck behind him. "You can apply for an internship here. Maybe for a stylist even," he points at your floral romper with his chin as his eyes trail.

You shift your weight on your left foot when his stare flusters you, and you consider his flattering suggestion for only a second before saying, "thank you for the offer, but I need to go now," you grimace sheepishly, "can I think about it?"

"Take your time," he reassures with a sly smile and inhales from his stick, filling his lungs with the sweet scent of your perfume alongside.

He doesn't look away when you walk off with a shy wave, entranced by your struts until he's called back in. It's with newfound inspiration that he's inside of his studio.

The storyboard of his upcoming project needs a few tweaks, and he doesn't fail in enhancing his crew with a different idea.

It’s been a week. Okay, it might’ve been shorter, but Jungkook is impatient. Besides, it didn’t help when he saw you holding hands with someone... so less than. It really baffled him to see you with a guy who wore such shabby clothes. He looks like the type that Jungkook would cast for a flop character.

The two of you are like a toy display across his studio in that cutesy, obnoxious café with a smoothie in the middle of your booth. He chuckles as he lights up another stick when he notices the two straws in the single cup. Cliché, cheesy, but cute in a childish sense. Your age shines through the amateur romance between you and that loser.

It especially shows when you look to the side with a laugh and lock eyes with him; so flustered that you gasp and focus back on your date. What makes you so shy about seeing him? You seemed so confident during your conversation two days ago.

He whistles when he notices a stray dog in an alleyway. You look at him as well but don't hear anything beyond the glass wall, but it catches his attention regardless. He whistles again before saying in a hushed voice, "come here girl." It's difficult to suppress a smile when you gaze at him questioningly, as if trying to decipher his words. "Naive little girl," he mouths as he smokes, "what are you doing with that boy?"

He almost chokes when you take out your wallet in front of a waiter; are you paying for him? That's why you ordered one drink - so you could share? Jungkook isn't cruel but, he finds it laughable that your boyfriend is so... unappealing. He can't help but wonder why you're with him; maybe his face? The boy is somewhat handsome, but he only has his facial features to go by. It's rather strange for Jungkook to think about this in the first place, so he gets back inside his workplace after harshly shooing the stray dog away with a stomp of his foot.

"I'd like to start my internship today."

Jungkook runs his eyes up and down your body while leaning against a brick wall. "Paid?"

"I-I'll do it for free. Besides, I don't know if I'll even work in this industry," you twiddle your fingers while smiling up at him. He intimidates you, but this morning you decided you did enough thinking and here you are, an aspiring stylist all of a sudden.

"Get inside," he nods at the door before stubbing his cigarette and following you to his studio. "You know what you're going to do?"

"I'm going to decide the outfits, right?" The place looks cozy to you, with its minimalistic interior design and blunt switch between the stories. The first floor is strictly for business, with lined up cameras, lights and a microphone. There is even a green screen! And the second floor seems to be more of a resting area with its couches and open laptops, but you can't make out much from the entrance. Jungkook starts walking ahead of you, making a beeline for the black stairs. You tail behind him and smile at anyone who notices you, which isn't a lot of people. It's not crowded.

"Right. We're still working on a storyline, haven't finished it yet so it's possible this project might not be published. You with me so far?" he glances at you, and at your firm nod, continues, "when we finish planning, scripting and shit, you come to play."

"So what do I do now?" you innocently inquire and watch him plop down on the red velvet couch. He clicks on the space of his keyboard to light up his screen.

"I have an idea for a character, and I want to know how you would design her," he vaguely explains as he scrolls through his document.

"You want me to sketch it or explain?"

"Let's hear you out first. Irene," he suddenly calls out loudly.

"Yes?" a female responds from downstairs. You see a woman with a grey cap look up at him, her attire nothing short of casual.

"Come here."

She skips a few steps while climbing up the stairs at his command. You're not awkward when you greet her, and she offers a coy smile.

"This girl - what did you say your name was?" he asks you. You tell him and he continues, "she's going to be our intern. I want you to critique her with me."

"What's she in for?" Irene asks before sitting across from him.

"Wardrobe stylist."

Her eyes widen as she takes a second look at you. Your style is definitely unique, but... immature. She has half the mind to not question Jungkook about his choice.

"Okay..." she trails. "I'm Irene, by the way. I'm going to be an executive producer for the upcoming film."

"Nice to meet you," you brightly chirp. "Sir?"

Jungkook smirks at your addressing of him. "Yes?"

"What is your name, if I may ask?"

"I'm Jeon Jungkook, but you may know me for my pen name Shin Dong-hyuk."

Your mouth falls open when you instantly recognize the name. "Wait, what? You directed My Time?" you incredulously wonder aloud.

My Time is a movie that took the world by a storm; it brought recognition to the whole country for its popularity and clever writing. You never knew the name was a pseudonym, however. It's a suspense genre, about the life of a crazed fanboy who is obsessed with a foreign celebrity. He stalks her on the internet, has a fanpage of her and pays a hefty amount of money to strangers to update him on her whereabouts. He's portrayed as a young college student in the story, and inevitably runs out of cash from reckless spending. When she gets into a dating scandal, he goes on a theft spree and flies out to meet and confront her. It ends with her murder when he finds her with another man in a hotel room, and he stabs himself in the heart afterwards. There are a bunch of clues that foreshadow his ending, from his family life to his friendships. It's an amazing thriller, and you researched his name in the credits to find more of his works after seeing the movie but to no avail; there is only one listed.

"That's me," he nonchalantly reveals as if he didn't just give you the shock of your life. "Don't tell anyone though, will you?"

You whimsically put on an imagery zipper over your mouth while trying to recover from your racing heart.

"I don't have a clear outline, but the female lead is going to be naive but charming. She has to stand out, alright? Happy, extraordinary, special."

"We didn't decide on that," Irene butts in with a displeased expression.

"I forgot to tell you, I deleted our previous plan."

"You did wh-"

"What do you think?" he turns to you as he ignores Irene's shrieks. "What color are you imagining?"

You feel nervous when he puts you on the spotlight after revealing his identity. You close your eyes with a deep inhale before answering, "I'm thinking red and green, like Christmas. There should be a hint of white as well."

Jungkook drinks in your outfit before grinning mischievously. "Perfect." All of your colors.

Stalking is bad, but there are worse things in life.

Is it such a bad idea to follow you home when it's dark out? He kept you for a long time in the studio, allowing you to dress up a mannequin with all sorts of costumes you had in mind in the backroom. He's certain you had fun with him when you left with a permanent grin on your face.

You live with your parents, and he knows for sure he's at least 5 years older than you. You look about 19, so he's assuming he's only 8 years older.

A small villa with windows all around, he observes, before glancing back at your bedroom. The lights are on and you're swinging your legs with excitement on your bed after you face planted on the mattress. He didn't see you greet your parents before running off to your room, and he can't help the smile growing on his face at your hyperactivity. It was like an instinct to walk you home in secret and he isn't sure why he is still watching you. He should look away when you get off of your bed and heave your shirt over your chest, but instead he steps away from the lamp post to hide from the light.

You're changing, and he can't take his eyes off of you. As if that wasn't enough, you unclasp your bra without even pulling the curtains. Do you know he's there? The thought excites him, and his pants begin to tighten around his crotch. He lowly whistles at you, but you don't hear him again. You do look outside for a few seconds while stretching your arms, however, and he's certain you have a connection to him.

He leaves when you put on your pajamas with the image of your bare tits imprinted on his mind. He doesn't head home first, as the studio is only a few minutes away from your home and he wants to leave you a gift.

When the familiar building enters his vision, he doesn't waste time in unlocking the door and switching on a single dim light. He rushes to the backroom after locking the entrance for a second time and unzips his jeans as he goes. You were here not too long ago, and he can pinpoint exactly where you stood while striding to each corner with purpose. Bending, crouching, leaning, doing just about anything to tease him.

Now that he can imagine your perky nipples realistically, he immediately takes out his length from his restraints and picks up a random handkerchief to pump himself with. He doesn't stop to think over his actions; he's acting on urges, on impulse. Never has he ever done something like this.

He's rather relaxed as he sits down on an idle stool to close his eyes and run his hand up and down his shaft. What he would do to press your tits against his cock while he slides it up and down, smearing his cum all over your lips while you sleep. You would swallow it without a second thought once he finishes in your gaping mouth, and wonder why there's a dull ache in your breasts the next morning.

His breaths grow shallow the faster he strokes himself, the more he thinks about using every part of you for his pleasure while you're knocked out cold. He involuntarily thrusts into the air while quiet moans slip out of his open mouth. Something about how taboo it would be to fuck you while you're unconscious turns him on so much. Would that be something you're into?

The handkerchief is so soft, so silky against his length, he can almost imagine it to be your hand. He starts twisting his hand around his cock, from the base to the tip as his other hand palms his balls before he begins to reach climax. Strings of cusses fall out of his mouth when he quickens his pace, the fabric against his skin resounding in his ears before he finally spurts out his cum into the cloth.

"Fuck," he exhales as he coats his makeshift glove with his release. White on white doesn't make much of a difference, and he's panting as he folds the handkerchief to rub it evenly so it sinks in completely.

He leaves it on the stool after zipping his pants, and his eyes twinkle under the moonlight on his journey home.

You aren't alone when you walk to work. Jungkook is taking his usual smoke break while watching you swing your interlocked hands back and forth with the guy next to you. Your smiles exude the same aura, and Jungkook sarcastically notes how compatible the two of you are. The boxy grin shines with the sun, but it doesn't hide the boy's worn out clothes.

"Good morning, Jungkook," you greet before introducing your boyfriend. "This is Taehyung, Taehyung meet Jungkook. I'm going to be under his wing until I decide my major."

"Hello, Taehyung," Jungkook coldly says before blowing smoke in his face.

Taehyung scrunches his nose before chirping, "hi!" He then turns to you and whispers, "I thought you wanted to study medicine."

You shake your head dismissively with a light laugh before responding, "it's just an internship." You let go of his hand and bid farewell with a peck on his cheek before going inside the studio.

"Well, have a good day," Taehyung smiles as he's about to leave before Jungkook holds out his hand to block the way.

"Taehyung, who is your girlfriend?"

"Um," he furrows his brows before saying your name.

"And who are you?"

At Jungkook's blunt question, Taehyung pauses and takes a step back. "What do you mean? Like my full name?"

"No, who the fuck are you? What is your contribution to society? What do you do for a living? What are you wearing?"

"Sir, I-" Taehyung's stammering is cut short when Jungkook asks, "how much money for you to stop leeching off of her?"

He scoffs, "excuse me? I'm not leeching off of anyone, and I'm sure as hell not breaking up with her for your money." Taehyung's face heats up from the shameless confrontation, and he starts walking in the opposite direction.

"So you're not going to leave her?"

Taehyung doesn't turn to look at him as he emphasizes, "no."

"Good."

He abruptly stops in his tracks. "What?"

"Your dedication is admirable," Jungkook comments with a shrug. "I'm satisfied with your answer."

"Were you testing me?"

"Bingo."

He starts chuckling before shaking his head. "I always knew directors were crazy; you scared me for a second."

"Where you headed now?" Jungkook smoothly switches the subject, but notes the fact that you've spoken about him to your boyfriend.

"I have a farm two blocks away." When Jungkook raises a brow, he explains, "I stayed the night with her, so I decided to drop her off before leaving."

"Want me to drop you off?"

It's a kind offer, really, but Taehyung is still put off by the insults thrown his way just a minute ago. Doesn't he have work to do anyway? "That's alright, thank you, but I'll just take the bus. Have a good one, Jungkook."

Jungkook doesn't stop him as they both wave goodbye. He doesn't bother putting out his cigarette before going inside.

Where would be a farm only two blocks away from the city center? It has to be a lie.

You're wandering around the place as to not awkwardly wait for Jungkook who sharply inhales at the sight. He calls your name.

"Yes?"

"What do you want to become?"

"I," you look at him funny with a laugh, "I still don't know."

"Then take a gap year."

Your brows shoot up to your hairline. "Why?"

"I want you to be invested in this project completely. Once the planning is finished, I'll give you a salary. What do you think?"

He's asking you to work full-time for him. Not as an intern, but an employee and you are beyond willing after only being here for two days. He's a famous director; how can one pass up this opportunity?

"I'd love that."

You noticed that Jungkook has a very unique way of working. You've heard that he's been keeping his crew until late at night, already having an outline for his plot and he's moved onto screenwriting. He apparently disappears randomly throughout the evening after you leave, and you've had some different experiences with him of your own.

He asked you to steal from the wardrobe of his backroom. "Take everything that you'd wear," he said before stepping out of the room.

When you confusedly compiled all of the clothes that caught your eye under your arm, he took them from you and brought them upstairs with a huge grin. "Keep that one," he pointed at the handkerchief you thought about lacing your neck with.

Taehyung's quiet with you. He doesn't respond to your texts, doesn't call you, doesn't come over. You're too busy spending time with Jungkook to check up on him, and it serves as a well distraction when you keep glancing at your notifications. It hurts, especially when your wallpaper is a picture of you and him. It hurts because he isn't with you in your proudest moments when you were with him even at his parents' funeral.

The only thing keeping you happy is casting. Jungkook asked you to make a list of all the actors that would suit his characters after giving you a vague description of their traits. The budget isn't an issue, and you're having so much fun. He makes you forget your worries without even trying.

Jungkook intimidates you, but he's so lovely.

A mere "aspiring" stylist is casting actors for a movie. How many people can brag about that? You almost stumble on the stairs as you quickly climb up with Jungkook's laptop in your hands. He gave it to you for research purposes as he drew a rough storyboard with Irene.

"I made a list," you exclaim brightly. Heads shoot in your direction and you sheepishly grin at your volume. Jungkook's eyes linger on your covered neck; it's almost like a collar.

He whistles and beckons you to sit next to him. You obey and anxiously present your list to the professionals; you have no idea how to go on about this task, and no one guided you. You're certain you look utterly amateur in front of them.

Irene is inspecting your list without hinting her thoughts as Jungkook asks, "who are your favorites?"

"Well, I think Kim Namjoon is um, suitable for the male lead's role and Joy-"

"It's decided then," he claps his hands twice without hearing out Irene who scowls at him.

"You're not cooperating with us," she voices in a complaint, "why are you always calling the shots on your own? These are major decisions-"

"Ms. Bae, don't take any offence now. I'm taking your opinions into accounts when I make these decisions. Unless you have an issue with something, let's not dwell on this, hm?"

She sighs as you stand there awkwardly. She's upset, but stays silent.

"The two leads are Kim Namjoon and Park Soo-young. The team will decide the rest of the cast, thank you," he informs you with a ghost of a smile.

"Of course," you breathe.

You don't know how long it is supposed to take to shoot a film, but surely it's not this fast paced. Jungkook is relentless with his production; there are hardly any breaks in between takes. There are bags under his eyes from pulling all nighters to work on his scripts.

He is a perfectionist and a hard worker, as you've come to find out. You feel bad for the amount of times the actors recited their lines when they didn't capture a scene right in Jungkook's eyes. It was an honor for you to meet these famous people beyond a screen, and you were strictly ordered to do Joy's makeup only. You are her stylist, but the professional one does help you after she's finished with Namjoon's.

"Cut," Jungkook says into the speaker. You're located in a rented mansion outside of the city, but you can't enjoy it when everyone is so stressed. "Start over from line "he's leeching off of you"."

Even actors can't hide their annoyance from having to do a 25th take of one scene. Jungkook pays them enough to go on with this torture however, so they have no room to complain.

They start over and you force yourself to watch them again and again.

"Oh my god, cut!" You can hardly resist groaning yourself. Everyone on set is overworked, and you know the director has it the worst, but it's overwhelming you too at this point. You flinch when your name is called. "Act Joy's lines, will you?"

"Me?" you point at yourself in surprise.

"Go ahead," he urges with a nod.

You have no idea how to act, and it's nervewracking having to do it in front of A-listers. You pick up the script handed to you from another woman and start reading:

"He's not leeching off of me," you pause to inhale shakily; your hands tremble from the heavy stares on you.

"I'm his family, the only one he has left. No one would know if he was gone, and he trusts me to look after him without having to dangle a dollar bill over his head."

This goes on until the final scene, and the retakes cut down to half.

A few months pass, and it is time for the premiere. The movie, simply titled Pretty Girl, easily got a green light for display in theatres, and it's been heavily promoted on YouTube and TV. You are excited to your core, and watching the celebrities walk the red carpet was a first for you. Jungkook easily blends in with the crowd as he once again didn't reveal his real name in the credits, but his pen name is gaining more and more recognition. You have never seen the movie throughout the editing procedure, but you can't wait to see everyone's efforts show on the big screen.

You're dressed fancily because Jungkook asked you to go with him, and the two of you are sitting in the crowded theatre with not a single empty seat to be seen. Even the entrance is decorated in retro style to fit in with the movie's theme! The jazz music playing in the halls reaches your ears, and your knees are bouncing in anticipation of the movie. Jungkook is smiling as he listens to you ramble.

"I can't believe I played a part in this whole project!" you gush with shaking fists. "I met the best director I know, and I worked for him! This all feels like a dream... No one even likes my style, and yet I became a stylist!"

"I love your style," he denies, "even now you have all the attention in the room."

"Pfft," you roll your eyes playfully, "they all think I must look weird. I tried to wear something classy so I don't stand out, but it hasn't been working out."

"Keep it that way, you're beautiful like this."

Heat creeps up to your cheeks at his compliment and you squeak, "thank you."

He doesn't get to relish your flustered state as everyone goes quiet once the movie starts.

The time period is unclear, as the language is modern but the filter is black and white. The first scene is in a bar, a man in a suit eyeing a woman with a date who is an outcast with his clothes. They're washed out and ugly, but he looks handsome with his dazzling smile at the woman.

An involuntary grin spreads across your face when you hear their dialogue.

"I want to touch someone's shoulder to see how they react. Did you see how they looked at me when I walked in here? I think they think I'm your sugar baby or something," Jimin's character jokes with a laugh.

"I know! They're all so boujee, but I'm willing to be your mommy without sugar," Joy winks. They have fun until Jimin leaves to the bathroom and Namjoon's character approaches her, who has been staring at her ever since they walked in. Joy is offered a modeling career, and she accepts after she's told that her fashion only works with her because of how beautiful she is. She's bashful when Namjoon gives her a business card.

Jungkook's film is only over an hour long, but everything is timed so perfectly. His directory is straightforward, and you admire his work until a song comes on.

"That's my favorite song!" you whisper into his ear. It's Space Song by Beach House.

"Mine too," he whispers back.

There are montages of photo shoots, Joy's rise to fame in the modeling industry, but the trouble is Jimin, her boyfriend. Namjoon confronts him one day when Jimin drops her off to her new workplace.

"How can someone so poor be able to court a woman like her?" he asks rhetorically.

"Excuse me, Sir?" Jimin is offended until Namjoon laughs it off and reveals it was a joke. The audience sighs in relief, and all is fun and games until Jimin is brutally murdered next to a dumpster. You gasp at the gore scene and glance at Jungkook, until something dawns on you.

The story is starting to sound familiar. Was this movie inspired by your encounters? Your eyes light up as you give your utmost attention to the movie. The line between reality and fiction is beginning to blur.

Joy goes to Namjoon's house, where the dialogue you first reenacted comes to play. The shots are gorgeous, the script filled with metaphors on poverty and currency, and the romance is sickly sweet. There is a sex scene not long after... Joy forgets all about her boyfriend in the snap of Namjoon's fingers.

You tilt your head when you remember Taehyung. Where is he? How come your boyfriend didn't even show up to this life-changing experience?

Jungkook's hand slides over your thigh out of nowhere, as he murmurs, "do you mind?"

You stammer when his fingers reach under your dress to poke at your panties. "S-Sorry?"

"I said," he grazes your folds as you tense at the feather light touch, "do you mind if I touch you, pretty girl?"

Your chest heaves as your lashes flutter in a daze, but you nod nonetheless. His low raspy voice already has you clenching your thighs, unintentionally trapping his hand against your pussy. He's gentle, almost curious with the way he runs his fingers over your silky underwear before he moves it to the side. You're shivering with delight and thrill, and you don't take your eyes off of each other as he begins to flick your clit carelessly.

"Looks so pretty on you," he compliments the makeshift choker on your neck. It's his handkerchief you wore for the occasion, unaware that it's dried with cum. He pulls on the knot like it's a collar, and you're entranced. Your pants fan his lips at the close proximity, and he doesn't shy away from slotting his mouth against yours. You quietly moan into the kiss when his thumb starts to rub your clit, and his long finger pokes at your entrance.

"You mind?" he murmurs against your lips, his words slightly slurred as he doesn't stop kissing you. The wet noises are drowned out by the loud volume of the movie, but you can't focus on what's going on.

"I don't," you breathe before he slips in two fingers, exploring your walls with precision. He's multitasking as he circles your sensitive clit, and you're not very experienced in regards to sexual encounters but your hand lands on his hard-on anyway.

"Don't be shy," he chuckles into your neck, "touch it."

You don't know what you're doing when you slip your hand under his pants and palm him over his briefs, but his sigh is encouraging you. You're touching each other in a room of 100 people.

It's embarrassing when his free hand joins yours to help you touch him while simultaneously fingering you. He must have sensed your lack of confidence, because he starts to stroke his erection over your hand. You start to imagine his fingers as the real thing, and with your particularly low stamina, have a hard time suppressing your whines.

"Kiss my neck," he suggests as a solution to your nibbling. You didn't even realize your nether lip is bleeding from how hard you were biting on it. You bury your head in his shoulder and start pecking his neck. He holds back a laugh at how shy you're being, and he feels proud for predicting this moment perfectly in the movie. Joy is having the time of her life with Namjoon, unaware of Jimin decaying in the attic.

He quickens his pace in your cunt, and you bite him rather harshly at the sensation. He hisses with a chuckle; he likes it when you're impulsive. He can pick up the squelches from his thrusts because of how wet you are, and you climax all over his fingers in a matter of seconds with a whimper. You're twitching in your seat, and your hand strokes him faster but he stops you.

"In my studio," he says and you nod tiredly against his shoulder. The issue isn't that he doesn't want to cum in his pants, but the movie needs to become reality. He wants to fuck you on that one stool, with Taehyung's corpse decomposing in the backroom.

Jungkook always adds a pinch of fiction to his stories, but they're mostly based on true events. If you paid attention to the ending, maybe you would've realized that.

Lying is bad, but there are worse things in life.

#bts imagines #bts fic #bts scenarios #bts x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #yandere jungkook #yandere bts #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook #jjk smut

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n0bamak1s · 3 years

Text

laughing gas - mai zenin x reader

request: “Mai Zenin x Fem S/o, where the s/o gets their wisdom tooth removed and confesses their love to mai acting all sweet and cute, mai then takes care of her s/o and confesses too, we can see mai being her bratty and confident self but when she is with her s/o she just lets her walls down” - @shockfirefly

summary: in the request! (genre: fluff, friends to lovers, slice of life, humor)

warnings: reader is high on anesthesia if that counts as a warning, swearing, mostly just tooth rotting fluff (literally!!)

word count: 2k

a/n: i really enjoyed writing this request! at this point i’m basically just a mai zenin stan account tbh but the requests for her are just so fun to write. i’m almost on summer break so hopefully i’ll be more active bc i have a few ideas i’m excited to write for!!

it seriously took everything in mai’s willpower to not immediately whip out her phone to film your groggy state the moment she stepped into the room where you had just gotten your surgery done. she stifled a laugh at the bandage wrapped around your head, vaguely reminiscent of the one noritoshi had worn following the exchange event. when your eyes flicker over to meet her gaze, you give what she can only assume is your attempt at a smile, but looks more like a dog caught eating its owner’s dinner, with your face all swollen and slightly flushed.

forget that willpower shit.

she shamelessly calls out your name, to which you respond like an eager little kid. “say cheese!” she gives you an uncharacteristically wide grin to signal you to mirror her actions. you seemed to not learn from your previous mistake and attempted to smile back at her, before immediately cutting yourself off with a muffled groan. she hardly bothered with hiding her giggle this time, but at the very least she had the decency to cover her mouth as she cracked up.

with an annoyed pout on your face, you huffed and turned to the nurse standing beside you, who you were apparently to loopy to notice had joined in with mai on giggling at your grogginess. “she’s so mean to me!” you said, though your tone had no real irritation to it.

“it’s just to send to utahime. she wants to make sure your doing alright.” mai lied straight through her teeth, though you seem satisfied enough with that answer as you started to push yourself up from the seat you’d been in. mai quickly rushed to your side, knowing you weren’t sensible enough at the moment to ask for her help. before you could stand up and inevitably wobble over, she looped an arm around your waist and moved your arm so it was slung over her shoulders.

“alright champ, let’s get going.” she tried to remain as nonchalant as possible with the close proximity, but unfortunately for her, you seemed determined to embarrass her as much as possible.

“well at least buy me dinner first, ya casanova!” you said (much louder than necessary, mind you). honestly, it wouldn’t be surprising to mai if you could be heard from the waiting room.

with an over enthusiastic wave from you and an awkward thanks from mai to the nurse, you guys set off on your way.

to be fair to you, it was surprisingly a relatively tame trip to the door, with you focusing on keeping your steps in tune with mai’s. you were too lost in thought to embarrass yourself until you had made it to the waiting room. you had rather innocently pointed out a small curse, which would have been completely harmless had it not actually been an old woman, and had you not spoken with an inappropriately loud voice. the poor old lady who had fallen subject to your anesthesia induced self gave you an agitated glare as mai waved sheepishly in apology. the moment you guys were out the door, you turned back to glance through the glass.

“we’ll get her later, mai!” you patted her on the back with determination, your voice still muffled in a way that made you sound like you belonged on sesame street. “she can’t fool me, stupid curse!”

had it been anyone else, mai would have simply rolled her eyes and tugged you on, but since it was you, she found herself laughing along, a quiet laugh, like the sound of a wind chime in early spring weather. the sound seemed to catch you off guard, causing you to stop in your antics before turning to face her. she paused when she felt your gaze back on her, looking at her like a kid would look at fireworks for the first time.

she raised an eyebrow at your sudden change in demeanor. “what?”

“your laugh is pretty.” you stated simply, clearly having some pride at being the one to get her to laugh like that.

she turned away for a moment, hoping it would stop you from seeing the flush spreading across her face, knowing you’d never let her live it down. “thanks.” she muttered, praying she sounded at least a little bit cool and composed.

the short walk to the car was filled with you pointing out random cars asking if they were mai’s as you rested your head on her shoulder, before deciding the swelling was too painful for that.

a large grin which quickly turned into a grimace (you really never learned) appeared on your face when mai finally informed you that you’d made it to the right car. she held your hand to support you as you stepped into the seat, and once she’d sat down, reached over to buckle you in. she chose to ignore the over exaggerated wink you sent her way in favor of her own sanity.

as she drove, you babbled on about nonsense like how you were sure noritoshi had made mechamaru to hide the fact that he was secretly a robot, or how after that run you had gotten at the baseball game, you were sure you were destined to quit sorcery to go to the major leagues. to humor you, mai nodded along, before dryly responding that she’d probably be a better fit considering how good she looked in the baseball uniforms.

ignorant of her joking tone, you were quick to agree enthusiastically. “definitely! but i dunno if i’m the best person to ask, because i think you look good in just about anything.” your voice was sincere as you turned fully to look at her with slightly hazy eyes.

before either of you had time to process the admiration you had shown towards her, you glanced back out the window to the familiar sight of your school. you excitedly waved at the sight of todo and noritoshi sparring together. after catching his attention, todo didn’t even bother to stop the roaring laughter that came from your appearance, pointing out to noritoshi the similarities between your current look and his from just a few weeks ago. noritoshi gave todo an annoyed look, before glancing back over to see mai helping you out of the car, once again slinging your arm over her shoulders and supporting you with an arm on your waist.

she tried her best to ignore todo, she really did. though, it wasn’t exactly easy to ignore him when he loudly exclaimed what a ‘lady killer’ mai was. she snapped her gaze to meet his eyes, giving him a cold glare, before continuing to slink you along to your dorm.

when you opened the door to your dorm, the first thing mai noticed was a bulletin board on your wall, decorated with photos of all your friends, which most recently included your classmates. her eyes flicked to a photo of you next to another girl in elementary school with a smile that showed off your gap from missing teeth, and she chuckled softly at the irony of the photo compared to your current situation. her gaze then quickly shifted to a newly added strip of pictures from a photo booth. she smiled fondly at the memory of you, her, miwa, and momo sandwiching yourselves together in the tiny booth to take photos during your shopping trip. they weren’t ‘good’ photos, per say, in fact you guys all looked rather ridiculous trying to pack into frame, but for some reason, mai seemed to soften up at the memory of it, and how happy you looked just to be next to her.

her train of thought was interrupted by you tugging on the hand that didn’t rest on you, making her turn to see you mere inches from her face.

why the hell were you so close???

“yes?” she questioned, hoping to deflect from the fact that she was so obviously gushing over the photos on your wall just moments before.

“will you sleep with me?”

had you not had an arm around her, she probably would have dropped you in that instant. from the way she carried herself to the way she talked to others, most people would assume mai zenin does NOT blush, yet somehow you’d managed to disprove that theory way too many times today.

“WHAT?” it was her turn to be loud for a moment.

“i’m tireddddd” you whined “and you’re so warm.” you had stated it so casually, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

she groaned, as if it would cover up her sheer embarrassment at how bold you were. wordlessly, she walked you to your bed, keeping her grip on your waist secure. it was amazing how gentle she was as she laid you down on that rock solid bed all the dorms were stuck with. she pulled a blanket over you, sitting awkwardly on the edge of the bed in hopes you’d doze off peacefully from there. when she didn’t shift from her position, you looked at her with a confused expression.

“wouldn’t it be more comfortable to lay down?” your words were still slightly slurred together. you rested a hand on hers. “you know i don’t mind.” despite your dazed look, she could tell your words were sincere as your thumb rubbed circles atop her hand.

mai turned to face you full on, her eyes gentle rather than their usual harsh look.

curse you for being so hard to resist.

“fine” her voice was quiet “but only because it’s my job to watch over you.” she stretched out her legs so she was laying down on the bed, pulling the blanket towards her so she could get comfortable.

“you’re so good to me mai.” you smiled. not a pained grimace, or an awkward baring of your teeth, but a smile. “people always seem to be so intimidated by you, but i don’t really get it. you’ve always been so nice to me. it’s nice.”

she didn’t understand how even when you were all loopy, you still managed to have such an effect on her. hesitantly, she reached up to grab your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours.

it seemed the boldness from your anesthesia had rubbed off on her.

before she had time to talk, you continued. “i always feel so glad when we get paired up for missions, you make me feel so safe. like, i know when i’m around you that you’ll protect me. i admire you so much for doing all that for me.”

she went slightly stiff at your...confession? declaration? what exactly would you call that? you had said it so nonchalantly, whether it was out of trying to play off your fear of rejection or legitimate confidence, it was hard to tell.

“plus you’re really pretty.” your hand squeezed hers as you looked suddenly very interested in the pattern of your blanket. it was odd, seeing you get so shy all of a sudden, though she supposed it was somewhat of a win for her.

as you stared sheepishly away from her eyes that traced over every inch of your face, you felt her hand come up to your cheek, tilting you to face her. she continued scanning your face with an impossibly soft expression, before meeting your eyes once again.

“you know i wouldn’t do all that if it was anyone else.” her voice was barely above a whisper as her eyes bore into yours. her face was so close to yours that you could feel her breath fanning lightly across your face. “it’s all for you.” you’d never seen her so earnest before.

you smiled softly at her, even despite the ridiculous bandages around your head, and your chipmunk like cheeks, she still stared at you with so much love.

“you like meeee.” your tone was teasing, but it was obvious to anyone with a pair of eyes that you were just as whipped as her.

“dammit. you figured me out.” she said sarcastically, shuffling forward slightly so you were flush against her.

up close, the tiredness in your glassy eyes was obvious. she sighed to herself, and slowly leaned in to plant a soft kiss on your forehead.

“get some sleep.” she smiled at your eyes struggling to fight open your heavy eyelids. “we have a lot to talk about once the anesthesia wears off.”

maybe todo wasn’t so far off with that ‘lady killer’ comment.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #mai zenin x reader #mai zenin #zenin mai #zenin mai x reader #jjk headcanons #mai zenin imagine #mai zenin x you #jjk imagines

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jiilys · 3 years

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would u help me out for a second. im in the mood to write for the first time, and i think your style is beautiful. sitting down n actually trying though, im stuck as fuck! i’m realizing that in your dialogue/scenes you’ve got a lot of Little Things. little tiny elements that are subtle & just enough. how are you deciding that lily is building a house of cards at the moment or sirius is sitting in a tree or whatever during a given scene? how do you come up with those ideas for dialogue that are so silly & real & sneakily tender? do you know where it’s going when you begin? any advice for just… starting something?

ps: i appreciate you. you make it look easy & that’s very very cool

This is a lovely question!! Sorry it took me so long to get to it, I didn’t want to get it wrong. Also I’ve included some examples to try and explain what I mean in practise, but it also comes off rather like plugging. tragically this is unavoidable. Anyway, all that being said I have no idea how to advise you about dialogue and coming up with it, I think just listening to people talk helps. Don’t forget contractions, and when in doubt always trust the reader to keep up, real people don’t say perfect or even grammatically correct sentences a lot of the time. We also cut each other off all the time, especially when we’re trying to be funny. Like, here’s an example from warm front:

“He’s not even two. He probably would have thought it was, like, having a lie down or something.”

Harry was laughing now, “A lie down?”

“Yeah, a spontaneous, truck-induced–“

“–Permanent–“ “

–Permanent, lie-down. I’m almost jealous now actually.”

Another thing, but people say um and like or can't speak or cut themselves off, especially when they’re nervous. James when Lily says she loves him for the first time: ‘“Wow,” He breathed, “I’m– wow.” He put both hands on her cheeks and kissed her crazy, abruptly, dumbly. Her head spun.’ He can’t even speak! Dumb boy.

I think natural dialogue sometimes just requires you to read it aloud, which is very embarrassing but ultimately quite useful in trying to figure out whether something sounds normal or not. Use casual words, and try not to go dictionary hunting: if you cant think of the word chances are your character can’t either

In terms of concepts I have no idea, but I do have a few tips. I write all my short one-shots in one document (its called ‘just bad’ lmao) so its easy to start something, write a few lines, and then if it doesnt work just start a new concept, but still have all the old stuff handy. if you feel like you’ve written yourself into a corner its probably because you took a wrong turn earlier, so its just a matter of going back up and figuring out where you turned onto the dead end, or where a line could be funnier and/or sadder and/or more meaningful. Sometimes the bare bones of a decent line is there but you have to work it a little.

In this harry/ginny thing where harry is apologising for all the attention and ginny brushes him off she says:

“It’s nothing,” her voice, all force, “Anyway, it’s more funny than annoying.”

The response went through a few drafts, all variations on the same thing:

(1) “You’re funnier.” [too short, doesn’t make sense, and not really that funny. unholy trinity]

(2) “You make it funny.” Harry said, looking at her for real, “It’s not– you make it like that.” [this could work! I have no idea why I cut this, I think I forgot abt it lmao]

(3) “You’re the funniest person I know, Harry said, sincerely, and Ginny felt her heartbeat all through her, “You make it funny.” [jumping from ‘its more funny than annoying’ to getting this sincere out of nowhere is a little much, even for harry who is famously whipped]

I ended up going with this:

“It’s nothing,” her voice, all force, “Anyway, it’s more funny than annoying.”

“You’re funny.” Harry said, looking at her for real, flustered, “I mean– you make it funny. That’s all you.”

It follows the flow of the conversation and I think the way he says it, ‘you’re funny’ like its obvious, and then being like oh fuck and over-explaining it stumbling a little “I mean– you make it funny. That’s all you.”. You know when you like someone and you say something that gives you away before you can stop yourself? I wanted it to sound like that. Just gotta keep in mind how people behave, we are so stupid a lot of the time, we give ourselves away.

The thing about short stuff i find is implying a lot of history without actually describing a lot of it. I normally do this by having memories come up as almost shards, one second of feeling. You know when you’re in a conversation with someone and they mention someone or a past event, and it rises to the top of your brain, but only for a second? i find sometimes when you’re reading stuff people will try and replay entire memories or events mid-conversation, which is not something you do when you think. You don’t need to replay it beat by beat, you were there! This sounds vague as hell so I’ll try and show you what I mean:

From good crimes: “Petunia is engaged.” Lily’s voice, raw and wrong, “To Vernon. Eliza Hunt told me at the supermarket.” Sudden flashes of Petunia, the only time he’d ever met her, sat in the back of Lily’s twenty-first, pinched and whispering. “Whose Eliza Hunt?” This seems as good a thing to say as any.

pretty on the nose (the phrase ‘sudden flashes’ is pretty so i'll allow it from past me). But see how you don’t need to know how Petunia didnt talk to anyone, how she left early, how she was the odd one out: you don’t need to read all that, you already know because she was sat in the back and because pinched is such a mean verb, spiteful and sharp, you can already imagine how the evening went without me saying so

From my proposal take, after Sirius finds out they’re engaged: Sirius’ grip on his shoulder tightened for one second, still grinning, and James knew what he meant. “I know.” He said, because only Sirius had been there for all of it, when they were fifteen, drunk on Firewhiskey for the first time and James had said I think I’ve fucked it, I think I’ve fucked it but I like her for real.

you don’t need a description of the whole night, what party they were at, who they were with, what they were talking about: the important bit is that Sirius was the first person he told, and that they’re both remembering that at the same moment because they’re soulmates lmao. You know when something big happens for a friend and you feel so full of pride & love that you feel like you’ll burst into confetti?? this needed to feel like that, and you only need a flash for it

I feel like I’ve sort of strayed off from what you asked me, which is really advice on how to start something. I normally start with a line, usually of dialogue, and then try and build from there because dialogue is my thing. You might have a different thing! Some people write from concepts or locations, or an image. i might start with one or a few lines of dialogue, write them down, and then try to build from there. For example for the proposal thing I started from james just saying “Marry me”, which I find more romantic than ‘will you marry me’, purely because it sounds like he simply couldn’t stop himself from saying it, like it rushed out. Another example, this thing started from just “don’t be mad at me” “okay” James agreed instantly, because he is such a sucker for her.

When I write I don’t normally know where I’m going! I normally set out to write something I think is vaguely funny and evokes An Emotion, and then I just play around with stuff until I get there. when I write certain stuff and I have scenes in mind, stuff I want to happen, but I find that if I try to plot it to tightly its not exciting to work on, because sometimes you write a good line by accident, that you hadn’t thought of when you sat down, and you surprise yourself. That is a really nice feeling! i want to maximise that feeling.

'What I mostly try to remember is that writing something down, anything down, is useful. Sometimes you write for a whole night and dont get anything useable, but its like clearing pipes. Sometimes you have to flush through shit to get to the good bits. All the rough stuff, the things you don’t like or didn’t work, you wrote to get you to the stuff that did work. All of the bad shit got you here! It wasn’t a waste, you were working to find the good thing

If I had any tips its just the usual stuff, read! It is annoying how much that helps. Also, and I know this may make you shudder, but reading poetry is useful just because in no other literary or media form is language so important. In comics you have pictures, in novels you have plot and character, in film you all that and cinematography, but in poetry you live and die by how good the words are. If you want recs here’s my poem roundup tag, that I do sometimes, or if you want something just now read this by Anne Carson, which uses words like ‘smashing’, ‘boatwash’, and ‘green’ in the best way possible. Also it has these lines: “Recently having learned to recognize the type of tree called sycamore, / I see them in any forest— / the ones that look harrowed, / in shreds, but / go also / straight up into life,”

I mean, think of a sharper image than that?? It’s not possible. Just try remember to stay true to your characters and that in real life, the little stuff is the big stuff. Little things the people around you do normally show they care more than big speeches, and if you want to show love that’s how to make it feel lived in. You want to build a world! the little stuff is usually the world. Take some from your own or dream the ones you wish you had.

This truly was a very kind message and I’m so grateful you like my stuff, I hope any of this was even half-useful, although now reading it back it is borderline nonsensical. I’m going to bed now, good luck with the writing, and don’t forget to send it to me!!

caro xoxo

#writing bitching #said it already but loved this message it was so thoughtful. seemed pretty articulate to me i think ur writing is gunna be just fine!!!#rooting for you & anyone trying to write something rn. words suck and are difficult! they are also better than drugs & sex. regretable #kindnesses

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showrunnerihardlyknowher · 3 years

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26 for the prompts? perhaps w the cat n mouse lads :3 (also look danny i did it i sent a prompt are u proud)

I...actually don't remember what the prompt was for this one, but I'm 87% sure it was "I'm not that scary, am I?"

So fine since y'all keep asking for 'em, here's more of the cat and mouse bois. Shoutout to @gabbydafurry and an anon for finally giving them names.

“C’mon.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“I said no.”

“I’ll make pollo asado for dinner, we can eat it together while we watch!”

Aaron sighed and rubbed his hands against his forehead, trying to ease the dull throb that had yet to wane over the past two days. His headache certainly wasn’t being helped by the constant badgering of his...roommate, for a lack of better words (as well as being a title so eagerly self bestowed by the cat in question) but much like many of their other interactions, his resolve was starting to wear thin. Usually, he was able to hold his ground for at least a week until he was bribed into giving the other some type of social interaction with the promise of his favorite foods. Today, however, the poor mouse just wanted a moment’s peace free from knocking on the walls or calling through the cracks until he answered, and if that meant watching some stupid movie then fine.

Plus, Lucas did know how to make some incredible Mexican food.

“...fine,” Aaron conceded after a pause, the pressure behind his eyes giving him a sharp pang before fading to its usual ache, almost like his own body was projecting how horrible of an idea this was.

As soon as the mouse slipped out from behind the curio, he came face to face with the massive grin of the cat mere inches away from the opening. Seeing the grin only split wider when he was fully in view of the other normally would have instinctively sent a shiver up his spine, it was kind of difficult to be intimidated seeing how Lucas had strangely contorted his body to lay on the floor between the curio and the bookcase. Most cats seemed to be fairly flexible, so it probably wasn’t too uncomfortable for him to be so bent and curled up, but he definitely lost some of that hunter’s prowess with his back twisted sideways and one leg leaning against the shelving.

In a flash, Lucas had managed to untangle his strange positioning to instead be crouched on his knees, now looming over Aaron in a way he wasn’t sure he would ever get used to. He flinched back when his hand started to reach out towards him, fully intending to scoop him up to dizzying heights without a second thought, but the appendage stopped just short of touching him at all. Instead, he dropped his hand palm side up and waited, smiling all the while. At least he was getting better at remembering Aaron’s explicit request to not be grabbed without permission, though he did always apologize with a sheepish look and some little treat whenever he forgot.

Once Aaron climbed onto the awaiting hand that radiated a delightfully intense warmth into his already aching muscles, Lucas was already jumping up a chattering a mile a minute about how much the mouse was going to love the movie he picked out, how dinner would be ready soon, how he wasn’t expecting him to actually agree to watch a scary movie with him since he never seemed like the type who would be into that sort of thing but--

“It’s a scary movie?” Aaron interrupted, the noise finally registering beyond the headache. Truthfully, he tuned a lot of what the other said out for almost every conversation, not that it ever seemed to make a difference. Yeah, sorry, I’m a bit of a chatterbox, he admitted once, but it’s less weird talking to someone who doesn’t respond than to talk to yourself, right?

Debatable.

Lucas tilted his head and snorted. “Uh, yeah? That was one of the first things I told you about. You know that one actress who’s in almost every one of those Christmas movies we watch, who’s always the jealous best friend?” Aaron has no idea who he was referring to given that he never absorbed anything from those stupid romance movies he was boarderline forced to watch, but nodded anyways, “Right, this is supposed to be her big break out role, or something. It’s the first thing she’s doing as a lead actress, and you know, good for her! I’m glad she’s getting out of that typecast she’s been in forever. Horror probably wouldn’t be my first choice for her, but I guess since she has those singing vocals it could carry over to being a scream queen. Kind of like when--”

And Aaron was out of the conversation again.

Lucas continued to drone on about the actress’s entire film career, or at least that’s what the mouse was assuming he was doing when he occasionally zoned back in to pick up a stray word here and there. The headache he had been staving off to the best of his ability was starting to come back with twice as much force as it often did in the later days. He probably could have just asked the other for some aspirin, maybe even some cold medicine as that was no doubt what this bout of illness was turning into, but asking the cat for anything was always out of the question. Of course, Lucas tried to sway him numerous times into thinking it most certainly was not and that he could always ask for whatever he needed, never to his avail. Aaron was indeed willing to prolong his suffering if it meant not having to stomach the dreadful embarrassment that would come to being indebted to the feline, no matter how insignificant.

Unfortunately, he was only setting himself up for failure in thinking this “agreement” would be providing him any sort of relief. His headache was treading dangerously close into becoming a full fledged migraine and the flashes of light and screams from the television would not be doing him any favors. His only saving grace was that, after he had been settled on the couch and Lucas scampered off to get the dinner he promised, the cat turned off every other light possible to, as he put it, really get them in the spooky mood!

The smell of the food was delicious and nauseating. His stomach both wanted and revolted at the idea of anything filling it, which would only serve to worsen his headache no doubt. Damn it all, he wanted to throttle both himself and this illness, the first for agreeing to watch this stupid movie when he was already feeling under the weather, the second for preventing him from getting his half of the deal. These movie-dinner dates deals were the only reason Aaron continued to stick around, even if he thought the torment of being forced to watch awful romcoms in exchange for a hot, homemade meal was a little unfair. No, that wasn’t entirely true, Lucas was a freaking culinary genius as far as the mouse was aware. It was a wonder why he wasn’t majoring in a cooking field.

“I’m not hungry right now,” Aaron lied when Lucas had asked why he wasn’t eating. “I’ll try some later.”

The cat looked at him strangely before shrugging. “Alright, just let me know. If you don’t like it, I can always make you something else.” There he goes again, offering things he knows the other can’t accept. At least he could let it slide this time as he had no appetite to think of any other dish.

Lucas finished his own meal in silence, completely fixed on the television as the opening scene carried on, introducing the canine main character that Aaron did, in fact, vaguely recognize. This was fine, he figured, the dark apartment coupled with a painfully slow movie, a warm body moving to curl up behind him as it so often did during these deals, he could probably get a few moments of real rest in before the credits rolled. As much as he loathed to admit it, the cat was actually rather...comfortable to be forcefully cuddled by. He wasn’t like other movie goers that needed to make a comment on every character’s decision, steady breathing and the occasional purr helping the mouse slowly relax.

That relaxation was cut short as soon as the romcom actress tore her tiny avian neighbor to shreds by the end of the first act.

Aaron had hardly been paying attention to the storyline up until this point, something to do with the girl being bitten and experiencing insatiable hunger lately. The sudden carnage of the otherwise trusting little prey creature made both of them flinch in surprise, though Lucas was quick to laugh it off. From then on the mouse’s unwavering attention was glued to the screen, but not by his choice. A chill ran through him each time she claimed another unsuspecting victim, always a prey animal, and ripped them apart with her teeth and nails like a starving animal. The way the tiny’s incredibly realistic viscera was slurped into her bloody mouth made him queasy, all too easily imagining himself in their shoes.

Eventually, her hunger became too strong and she began attacking fellow predator species as well. Ripping into throats and soft bellies was far messier than snacking on a tiny creature in three bites, making her feast all the more gory. While the violence still unsettled him, it was a touch more bearable now that he couldn’t picture his own body being mangled between the teeth of a predator he thought he could trust. Speaking of…

The mouse gulped and risked a glance behind him at the other who had hardly moved, save for a few jolts and snickers whenever a particularly good jump scare managed to startle him. It didn’t go unnoticed that every time Aaron had physically reacted to a sudden screech or attack, the cat would curl just a little bit tighter around him, hiding a laugh behind a rumbling purr. He wanted to believe this was meant to be an act of comfort and not something equally as nefarious as the canine plotting her next kill. Regardless, Lucas was equally transfixed on the movie, except he seemed to be enjoying every minute of the horror aspect. His tail would flick in interest during the high tension scenes, even more so when a chase sequence was underway. It made sense, considering that was his favorite game to make Aaron play.

Whatever the case may be, the mouse couldn’t help but be unnerved tenfold that the other had the audacity to enjoy a fictional movie he was interested in seeing. The last thing the mouse wanted was for Lucas to get any more ideas when it came to chasing him around the apartment, much less awaken any sort of primitive instinct to maim his prize after it had been captured. To this day, it remains a deep seated fear in the back of his mind that every time the cat cupped his hands over him, his teeth would be quick to follow. Natural instincts were hard to shake for a reason when it came to prey animals such as himself, he could only hope the same wasn’t true for predators.

His imagination was running rampant, enough so that he completely missed how the movie ended. Something about a cure, something about being put down, whatever. The only thing on his mind was the morbidly hilarious thought that if Lucas were to go feral like the canine, would he eat him raw or would he cook him up in another fantastic dish?

Aaron jumped when Lucas moved to sit up behind him, only now registering the credits scrolling across the screen. He stretched a bit, the quickly fading warmth that had been surrounding the mouse making him realize just how tight the other must have been snuggled around him. How did he not notice?

“Wow,” Lucas said, pursing his lips. “That...was one of the worst movies I have ever seen in my life.”

That wasn’t the reaction Aaron had been expecting him to have, but it was certainly better than to hear him go on about how it was a brilliant masterpiece. He got up to flick the lights back on, still laughing as he recounted each poorly written scene and cheesy effects. “I mean, oh my god, right? The mail man saved everyone? Seriously? I actually feel bad for making you watch that, you totally have dibs on the next movie night.”

He turned around to look at the mouse who was still huddled tight on the couch, wide eyes glued to the screen even if it was just names moving along with ominous background music. Lucas gave him another quizzical look, smirking.

“C’mon, even you have to admit those tinies had zero survival instincts. Like, who goes up to a rabid dog and asks for directions? I get suspending my disbelief and all, but they could have made it just a pinch realistic. This is so going to tank her acting career…” The cat shook his head and moved closer to the couch so that he stood right in front of the television, finally drawing the other’s attention to himself. “Hey, you hungry now?”

Oh, absolutely fucking not. An hour and a half of being tensed up gave no relief to his aching muscles and now that the lights were back on, so was his pounding headache. His stomach rolled, the nausea a mix of dizziness and disgust from the special effects. He didn’t even want to think about food, he didn’t want to be out in the open anymore, and he most certainly did not want to spend another minute in the cat’s company right now.

“S-sure…” Aaron finally squeaked out. He just needed Lucas out of the room, distracted somewhere so he could make a break for it. In some instances, he would have just darted off whether the cat saw him or not, but that always resulted in a game of chase that had a 50/50 success rate, the other loving it anyways. All he wanted was some peace and quiet to rest up and heal and not think about how easy it would be for the other to bite off his head whenever he felt like it.

Lucas stood there for a minute, studying him, and just when Aaron genuinely feared he was going to pounce, he flashed an innocent smile. “Cool, just give me a couple minutes to get it heated up.” And with that, he disappeared into the kitchen.

Aaron decided to be bold and waste a few precious seconds of his head start to collect himself. Deep down, he knew he was being ridiculous. Lucas had been nothing but kind to him. Aloof, but still kind all the same. But as a prey animal that spent the better part of his life living in walls and stealing to survive, trust was a risk he simply couldn’t take. There was hardly any benefit to keeping up this con if the end goal was simply to eat him. For all he knew, though, Lucas was nothing more than a merciless sociopath that was willing to milk every ounce of fear he could before chowing down. A sociopath obsessed with romantic comedies and wore an apron when he cooked and had begged Aaron for two months straight to tell him when his birthday was so that he could make him a miniature cake.

...okay, so maybe Lucas wasn’t a sociopath, but that didn’t mean he was trustworthy. Evolution gave him sharpened fangs and agile reflexes for a reason and the mouse was not about to find out what it was like to be on the receiving end of those one day.

With his head as clear as it was going to be for the time being, sans the dull throb behind his eyes, the mouse finally pushed himself up to make his way over to the couch arm. Slowly, as to not overwork his stiff joints, he climbed his way down to the floor and skittered under the couch for a little extra protection. Strangely, he noticed that he didn’t hear any noises coming from the kitchen just up ahead and when he stopped by the doorway, he couldn’t see anyone either. Losing track of the massive cat should not be possible, especially considering this was a one bedroom apartment and there was literally nowhere else for the feline to go without coming back through the entryway. Aaron should have taken it as a blessing, but of course he couldn’t leave well enough alone.

He proceeded to be daring and come out from under the couch completely to peek into the kitchen, confirming it was empty. Again, that shouldn’t even be possible for Lucas to slip out without having to directly pass the living room to go somewhere else. Unless he had, which would mean Aaron missed him somehow. He had been in quite a deep thought process on the couch...but he could have sworn he was only collecting himself for a minute!

The answer became glaringly obvious when the mouse took a few hesitant steps back and turned to retreat under the safety of the couch, only to come face to face with Lucas. He damn near jumped out of his skin, slamming his back against the wall in an effort to gain another inch of distance between himself and the face taking up his entire view. Really, this was nothing too out of the ordinary for the cat, he loved to sneak up and pounce whenever the opportunity presented itself and Aaron wasn’t too obviously close to heart failure. What made his heart stutter, however, was the fact that Lucas didn’t look like...well, Lucas. There was no smile, no warm eyes, no words being talked a mile a minute about nothing.

No, there was just a frowning cat with his ears pinned back and pupils slit, stalking closer with a terrifying rumble in his throat.

Instinct overtook him as soon as he saw the other’s lip twitch, trying to dart under the couch for safety and having his path immediately blocked by a hand being slammed down, claw out. Aaron couldn’t even yelp, the bile in his throat threatening to turn into vomit if he idled around too long. So, he didn’t. Instead, he turned on his heel and scampered in the opposite direction with the cat hot on his trail. He very nearly dodged a swipe, Lucas hissing that his blow didn’t land while Aaron only tried to speed up his sprinting. They circled maybe half of the living room, the mouse weaving under furniture while the cat knocked into them in an effort to jarr his prey into taking a misstep.

It worked, unfortunately, when Aaron took a sharp turn at the bookshelf and caused Lucas to clip it with his shoulder. The small bump did nothing to deter the cat on his hunt, but the two books that came tumbling down were enough to make the smaller skid and trip to avoid being squashed under the novels. He ended up twisting his ankle awkwardly, stumbling flat on his face while the momentum of his running made him roll twice until he landed on his back. Despite being winded and the additional pain in his leg, he knew there was no time to waste, trying to pull himself. It was too late, though. The cat was already on top of him, hand coming down to pin him under his palm while only his head poked free from between his fingers.

That cold, terrifying face came nearer, eyes tunnel visioned on its prize. Oh God, Aaron would give anything to have the other Lucas back right now. He’d watch a thousand sappy movies, do a date night for every meal, actually move into his bedroom like the cat had suggested he do a dozen times. He wanted...fuck, he wanted his friend back. What he thought was his friend, anyways. Not this killer, not this predator who was baring his teeth and was now mere inches away from biting off his face and--

The growling above him broke off into a snort shortly before turning into a full blown laugh. Aaron wasn’t sure when he had closed his eyes in preparation for his certain death, but when he dared to open them and blinked away the budding tears, he saw that smile he had been wishing for again. Kind and warm, just like eyes, and it was like Lucas had never even taken the form of a starving hunter in his life. Like he hadn’t been moments away from devouring his beloved roommate.

“Oh, come on,” he howled with laughter, “You can’t be serious! That movie actually scared you? I mean, I thought you looked a little freaked out by it, but wow!”

The movie...so this...this wasn’t real. Lucas was just pretending, just playing a prank on him. He thought that the movie had simply wound him up and made him jumpier than usual, no different than watching a zombie flick and popping out from behind a bush at your friend later on.

Except it was different. It was different in the fact that zombies aren't real, but predators are. Predators didn’t need an excuse to go feral and maim and consume their tiny cohabitants, they simply could by the laws of nature. And yes, it may be illegal and have several laws in place to protect prey species, but if no body was ever left behind, who could say if foul play was involved? That was the whole plot point in the otherwise dull movie they sat through together, the reason why the woman was able to avoid suspicion of her sickness by feeding on tinies that could only be reported missing at most.

Lucas’s laughter had tapered off, still clearly enjoying himself. “Alright, note to self, no more horror movies.” Finally, he released Aaron from under his hand to sit back on his haunches. “Man, I really didn’t think you would scare that easily, especially from a B-movie like that. Anyways, are you actually ready to eat now? I put your stuff in the oven so it would reheat better, but it should be done by now….Ronnie?”

Aaron hadn’t moved an inch since he was originally pinned, not even after the hand had been lifted off of him. He just stared up blankly at the cat, trembling and wide eyed, unable to do anything as the rapid succession of events sunk in. The cat’s humor died down a little, smile hesitating.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t resist, you know?” He shrugged a little sheepishly. “You didn’t even notice when I came back so I thought...I don’t know, it was funnier in my head. I almost broke character and started laughing before you ran!” With still no verbal response, Lucas reached out a hand. “Aaron? You good? Come on, I’m not that scary, am I?”

The reaction he got probably wasn’t what he was hoping for with Aaron suddenly scrambling to push himself away from the outstretched hand that might trap and tear apart his limbs. He gave a sharp squeak, managing to find his footing only to come crashing down as soon as he took the first step, his ankle noticeably swollen by this point. His cry of pain was muffled into a desperate grunt, trying so hard to drag himself away as a last ditch effort to avoid the same fate as the bird and the squirrel and the mole in the movie.

Lucas gasped. “Oh, Ronnie, your leg!” Both hands were reaching for the mouse now, aiming to cup around him and scoop him up before they surely put him out of his misery. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I didn’t...oh my God, I hurt you.”

Yes and no. In truth, Aaron had been the one to hurt himself by making his body move in ways it physically shouldn’t. But that didn’t change the fact that Lucas had shown his true colors. Perhaps in hindsight, that wasn’t a fair assessment, as he really did think he was playing a harmless little joke on a skittish friend. The pain came from knowing that the cat could turn feral, though, no matter how genuine he was being. There was still clearly an instinct within him, one that knew how to hunt and bare his teeth and hiss, one that knew deep down where they both ranked on the food chain. It hurt in knowing everything he thought about his friend, everything that kept him from really letting down his walls like the other so desperately wanted, was right. Cats and mice were not friends.

“Get away from me!” Aaron shrieked when the hands came too close. Though they withdrew quickly, he didn’t bother to watch if they would move again as he forced himself up to stumble back to his nook behind the bookshelf.

“Aaron, wait!” It was a fruitless request and Lucas knew it as he didn’t even try to stop the mouse from disappearing behind the furniture back into the walls. It would only make matters so much worse. “Aaron, please, you’re hurt, just...at least let me help you. Please. I...I’m so sorry! It was an accident, I promise!”

The cat shuffled closer, leaning down in hopes that the other could at least hear his pleas better, could hear how sincere he was trying to be. “I would never hurt you, Aaron. You’re one of my best friends. Look, it was a stupid prank and I’m an asshole and I’ll never do it again, just please come out. Just let me know if you’re alright?”

It didn’t matter how hard or for how long he tried, Aaron was long gone within the walls.

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bytheangell · 3 years

Note

Hi!!! If you still accept requests could you do a fic with Gabriel and Christopher Lightwood? Matbe when he was little? I think that when he found out his second child was going to be a boy woukd have been impctful as what he had to bear with his own father

I Think I’ve Seen This Film Before (And I Didn’t Like the Ending) (Read on AO3)

Gabriel isn’t sure where the sudden feeling of anxiousness comes from after Cecily has their second child, a boy they name Christopher. He hadn’t been this nervous when they had Anna, and he hadn’t been particularly worried leading up to the birth… but now that Christopher is here Gabriel can tell that something is different this time.

He just can’t quite place what that something is.

It isn’t until he’s holding Christopher one night, allowing his son’s tiny hands to explore and pull at pieces of his clothing with wide-eyed curiosity, that Cecily says something that makes it all click.

“He’s going to idolize you, I can tell,” Cecily says the words with a smile, obviously meaning them as a compliment.

Instead of smiling back, Gabriel blanches. The realization comes immediately

“I don’t want him to.”

Cecily frowns. “What?”

Gabriel shakes his head back and forth emphatically. It’s suddenly very obvious why he’s felt different with Christopher, and honestly, he isn’t sure why it took him this long to piece together.

“I don’t want him to,” he repeats.

“Whyever not?” To her credit, Cecily looks confused, but not upset.

“I idolized my father,” Gabriel says, the words a mere whisper.

And there it is. The reason Christopher is different is that he’s a son: a boy, who will turn into a young man meant to take after his father. To learn from him. To grow up and follow in his footsteps.

Except everything Gabriel’s experienced of how a father raises a son is selfishness, deceit, and self-indulgence. It’s raising a child to serve and reflect your own interests - a name to carry a legacy. What if he’s just like his father? That’s nothing to idolize. That isn’t--

“You’re not Benedict, Gabriel,” Cecily says gently, her words cutting through his quickly spiraling thoughts. She walks over to place a hand on his arm, her expression kind as she glances between him and their son, her smile soft and reassuring. “You’re a good person and a wonderful father. Just look at Anna.”

“She has you to look up to,” Gabriel points out.

“And so will Christopher. But that doesn’t matter, because she still looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky just for her, and rightly so.”

“I don’t want to make the same mistakes he did. He raised us to be heirs, not individuals. I clung to that for so long…”

Cecily knows about the sort of man Benedict Lightwood was, before he wasn’t a man at all. Gabriel told her most of what she didn’t hear on her own because he wanted her to know exactly what she was getting into when they started seeing one another romantically - but Cecily always took it in stride. She always supported him and every difficult step he took away from his father’s legacy.

“And then you let it go when it mattered most,” she reminds him. “If you won’t believe in yourself, then believe in me. Christopher is going to turn out just fine - because of you, not in spite of you.”

Gabriel looks down at Christopher, such a tiny bundle in his arms, and nods slowly. “I won’t let you down, Christopher. I promise.”

---

It takes a while for Gabriel to find a sense of balance with raising Christopher, often trying so intensely to not be like Benedict that he isn’t quite himself, either. But he gets there eventually, stepping into his own in ways he never imagined possible before.

He’s doing well, until the moment he isn’t.

It’s a bad day. One of those days were little things seem to go wrong one after another, mostly minor inconveniences until inevitably one of them becomes the tipping point for a proper explosion of the frustration that’s been building all day.

Unfortunately, that final straw comes in the form of Christopher coming home with violently green skin less than an hour before they’re due to set off for a formal dinner in Idris. Gabriel is upset enough when he thinks it’s another one of Christopher’s experiments gone wrong, but something in him snaps when he finds out it was actually a spell gone wrong from a warlock girl Christopher had been playing with, one he met in the Shadow Market the other day.

“It’s bad enough Tatiana’s stirring up trouble again, and now you’re going to show up looking like this and positively reeking of magic! Must you spend your free time consorting with Downworlders?!”

“The spell was harmless! She wouldn’t hurt me, father,” Christopher says.

“I don’t care how harmless the spell was, it’s how it looks, don’t you see?”

But of course, Christopher doesn’t see, because he’s Christopher. He’s trusting to a fault, and too eager to see the good in people that he never stops to question whether or not they may have ulterior motivations.

“I’ll tell the people at the dinner what happened, once I explain I’m sure-”

“No!” Gabriel feels an instinctive panic at the idea of anyone finding out what happened, putting him even more on edge. “You will not tell anyone what happened. In fact, I don’t want you spending time with that warlock girl anymore.”

“But James-”

“I don’t care what James does. He isn’t my son - he isn’t a Lightwood! People expect certain things of us, Christopher, and we need to do better!” Gabriel is only vaguely aware that his voice is rising and his words are turning sharper.

“What does being a Lightwood have to do with anything?!” Christopher asks.

“It has to do with everything!” Gabriel snaps, and then realizes what he’s doing.

Christopher looks upset and a little shaken, and it’s obvious that he hadn’t expected this sort of reaction from his father. Gabriel catches a reflection of his face in the glass of a curio cabinet and sees more of his father in himself than he ever has before.

Christopher turns and stalks to his room without another word, just as Cecily comes in after hearing the commotion.

“What was all that?” She asks, brows furrowed.

“I-” Gabriel begins, but words fail him at the moment. He realizes he’s a bit shaken up as well - he’s never fought with Christopher before, not like that.

“I messed up, Cece.” Gabriel looks down the hall after his son with a weight in his chest. “I said things I shouldn’t have. I’ve just been under so much pressure lately, and he came home green for Raziel’s sake, and I…” Gabriel sighs, long and heavy.

“You took it out on him.”

It isn’t a question, so at least he doesn’t have to answer it out loud.

“I’ll talk to him later. I should go to this dinner, would you mind staying home with them?” Gabriel knows better than to think Anna will come with him after he’s upset Christopher - she’s fiercely protective of him in all the best ways.

“Of course. Go put in your appearance, I’ll handle things here.”

“Tell him I said I’m sorry,” Gabriel adds, turning to leave.

Cecily shakes her head. “You tell him yourself when you get back.”

He will. He absolutely will.

---

Once he’s in Idris, Gabriel can’t shake his foul mood. It doesn’t take long for Gideon to call him out on it.

“I shouted at Christopher. I told him,” Gabriel huffs. “That we have to hold ourselves to a different standard because we’re Lightwoods.”

“You’re not wrong. You and I both know we’re going to be undoing Father’s damage for the rest of our lives.”

“Are you ever afraid you’re too much like him?” “ Gabriel asks, unable to help himself.

Gideon shrugs. “He wasn’t all bad, you know. He did love us, for what that’s worth in the end. He never wanted us to want for anything, and he always pushed us to be the best versions of ourselves. Those wouldn’t be the worst traits to emulate.”

It’s a fair point. Gabriel is so focused on not turning into the monster his father became that he overlooked the parts of their childhood that were good.

“It’s just, sometimes I see him in myself when I lose my temper and… honestly, it frightens me. It’s like I blink and suddenly all the progress I’ve made all these years is just gone.”

“If all that progress were gone, you wouldn’t be having this conversation with me now,” Gideon points out. “One mistake doesn’t undo years of good. Not if you fix it instead of letting it consume you.”

Some of the tension Gabriel’s felt since he yelled at Christopher eases ever-so-slightly, and he manages a small smile.

“Thanks. I think I needed to hear that.”

“I can’t take all the credit - it’s something Sophie told me once. Guess it stuck,” Gideon admits. “Now get out of here and go home. I’ll cover with the others.”

---

Gabriel leaves Idris early to make sure he’s home before Christopher falls asleep. He goes straight for his son’s room, surprised by the slight nervousness he feels. But that’s good, he reminds himself. It means he cares, and not just about himself, but about what really matters.

“Christopher, are you awake? May I come in?”

There’s a short pause, and Gabriel wonders if he’s too late and will have to wait until morning. Then he hears soft shuffling noises before the door swings open.

“I’m sorry-” Christopher starts immediately, obviously expecting a lecture, but Gabriel holds up a hand to stop him.

“No, I’m sorry. I’m not always right, Christopher. And I need you to understand that. I don’t want you to grow up blindly following in my footsteps, okay? You’re allowed to question me. And you’re allowed to tell me if you think I’m wrong - because I might be. I just might not always see it.”

“You were wrong to be mad that I’m spending time with Downworlders,” Christopher says slowly, as if testing whether or not he’s supposed to actually question his father or if that bit was just a trap to see if he would.

“I was,” Gabriel agrees. “The unsupervised magic could be dangerous and that’s something we’ll have to talk about, but not tonight. Tonight I just need you to know that I don’t want you to be different, or better, or anything other than your perfectly curious, kind self. I love you, Christopher.”

“I love you too.”

This isn’t the first mistake Gabriel’s made as a parent, and he’s certain it won’t be the last. He’s trying to be better than his father before him. Sometimes he fails, sometimes he succeeds, but every time he learns from his mistakes and picks himself up to try again… and he’s finally starting to realize with the love, forgiveness, and encouragement of his family, that he doesn’t have to be perfect so long as he’s trying to be better.

#gabrily #gabriel lightwood #cecily herondale #tsc #christopher lightwood #gideon lightwood #it's been a hot second since I read these so I hope I did the characters justice!#it was fun to imagine these little in-between times we didn't get in canon #also I'll have Lightwood feels forever no matter the Lightwood and this is no different #this turned out a little more gabriel focused but I hope you enjoy it!!#thank you so much for the prompt!#elle writes a few deadbeat lines #long post

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pilothusband · 3 years

Text

A lit torch to the woodpile high (part 2)

A Paz VIzsla Bartender!AU

Rating: T (for now)

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x F!Reader

Warnings: Alcohol, pining, some vague descriptions of wanting to be plowed, vague threats of violence

Word count: 2.7k

Description: More pining ensues, we see a lil skin (@softdin 👀), something eerie happens, two idiots who don’t know how the other feels.

Author’s note: Let me know what you think!! Please go here to be added to the taglist!

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

The next few weeks passed by without incident. You still hadn’t seen Orso since he initially hired you on, which was kind of strange, but you figured it was because he was busy and had other ventures he had to keep an eye on.

So far your favorite part of working at Bear’s Den was working with Harlow. When it was slow you would pass the time chatting and getting to know each other better. You found out that Harlow was in the middle of getting her Master’s in Business Administration at the local school. She wanted to open her own bakery someday and worked at the pub to help pay for her degree.

Dillon was a little more frustrating to work with. In other words, he was lazy and he tried flirting with you (and every other woman around his age) every chance he got. It was harmless, but after a while you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him.

Paz was almost always at the bar, but it seemed like he was busy most of the time. In fact, he had barely said a word to anyone all day, other than grunting a short “hello” as he stormed in.

“What crawled up his butt?” Dillon asked after he had slammed the office door. You and Harlow looked at him and shrugged. He seemed pretty surly in general, from what you could tell, but this was a whole new level, even for him.

A little while later, some customers had trickled in and there was a low hum of conversation around the bar. You were wiping down some glasses that had come out of the dishwasher. The damn thing never dried the glasses completely, and Donny never dried them himself before carting them out to you.

Harlow came out from the back, coat and purse in hand. You instantly deflated, realizing she was heading home for the day.

“I thought you were closing up with me tonight?”

“I was going to, but Paz switched with me. Said something about a meeting he had later on anyways,” she said, applying chapstick.

Oh, just great.

“Don’t worry,” she said, almost like she could read your mind. “I’m sure he’ll be less grumpy once Madge brings him some food from the kitchen later,” she laughed.

“Yeah, he could use a Snickers or two.” You both dissolved into giggles.

It was as if Paz’s ears were ringing. As soon as you had made the comment, he stepped out of the office. He still looked pretty angry, so you figured whatever was bothering him hadn’t gotten any better. Harlow could sense his mood and all but ran out the door, throwing a quick goodbye behind her shoulder.

You waved after her, distracted for a moment. That’s when you heard your name being called, rather impatiently. You whipped back around and walked over, not wanting to sour his mood any further.

“Sorry about that, what’s up?” You asked, looking up to make eye contact.

Big mistake. You could feel your stomach clench up with desire as soon as his eyes met yours. You could have sworn you saw his expression change momentarily, but as quickly as it appeared, he blinked and it was gone.

“I have a meeting later today. If you see a couple guys wearing matching white coats walk in and I’m not out front with you, come out back and get me. Don’t talk to them.”

You bit your lip and nodded. Paz’s gaze followed the movement and he swallowed heavily. You didn’t catch yourself watching his Adam’s apple bob up and down until he cleared his throat.

“Remember. Don’t talk to them.”

“Roger,” you said, turning on your heel to get back to the bar.

You had no idea how to feel about that interaction. He either didn’t trust you enough to talk to some important business associates, or something else was going on. You felt a little uneasy, but chalked it up to Paz’s fowl mood.

Was Paz involved with some bad people? Did this have anything to do with Orso not showing up to the bar for weeks? More customers were trickling in, distracting you from all the wild conspiracies your brain was coming up with.

Orso and Paz were in a secret society and were plotting to steal an important government document. Orso and Paz secretly swapped faces and were living each other’s lives.

You really needed to stop watching Nicolas Cage films before bed every night.

After a while, Paz came out of the office to tend the bar with you. He wasn’t much of a conversationalist, but it was almost hypnotizing to watch him pour drinks. He knew the layout of the bar like it was the back of his hand. There was no hesitation to look for the correct liquor types when a customer ordered a cocktail that required a vintage bourbon. He didn’t struggle to remember which spout to use for cranberry juice vs. orange juice (like you did).

There was a point in the night where he was serving 5 customers at the same time, when you struggled to juggle just two of them. It was almost embarrassing, to be honest.

You heard a woman’s voice in your peripheral, snapping you out of a detailed and vivid daydream where Paz bent you over the bar to have his way with you.

“Excuse me, can I get a glass of Merlot?” She was probably in her mid-50s, wearing a slinky black dress that looked stellar on her, with leopard print heels. Basically, you wanted to be this woman when you got older.

“Of course,” you said, turning to the shelf.

Before you could even ask for Paz’s help, you heard him in your ear.

“Red wine?”

You had to suppress a pleasant shiver.

“Yes, please. The Merlot,” you looked over, giving him a sheepish grin. His face was still close to yours, you could see the flecks of amber in his deep brown eyes.

You stepped back, allowing him room to get to the shelf, and tried not to drool as he reached up towards the shelf, his shirt riding up his back with the movement. Time seemed to stop as you caught a flash of skin, toned and smooth.

“Here you go,” he said, handing the bottle over to you. “We’ll keep it over by the register in case she wants another glass.”

You nodded, your mouth too dry to come up with words. Once the bottle was opened and the glass filled up, you handed it to the woman as she handed you her credit card.

She gave you a wide-eyed look as you accepted her card.

“That man is an occupational hazard,” she said, taking a big gulp from her glass.

You laughed, but didn’t say anything in response.

“Do you want me to open a tab for you?”

“Yes, I think I’ll stick around for a while,” she said wiggling her eyebrows.

Later on that night, it was about 15 minutes past closing time and all of the customers, as well as your bouncer Rick, had long left for the night.

Paz had gone out back to count the till and you were organizing the liquor bottles when two men entered through the front door, which was strange because you could have sworn you had locked it.

They were wearing long, cream colored trench coats with some sort of emblem on the front pocket. It looked like a cog with six spokes. Something about it made your blood run cold. You had every intention of running out back to tell Paz they were here, but something about these men had you frozen in fear.

They weren’t like any men you had seen before, with short, cropped hair that was slicked back and eyes as gaunt as their thin faces.

Good evening,” the taller man said as he reached the bar. He gave you a smile, trying to appear amiable.

“Um, hi. Paz is out back, I can go get him for you,” Paz was going to lose his shit when he found out you talked to them.

“We’re looking for Orso Van, actually. Do you know where he is?”

“I haven’t seen him for weeks. I can go get Pa–”

“I don’t want to speak with his whipping boy,” he interrupted, his tone growing cold. “I want to speak to Orso. Now.”

You were grateful at Paz’s immaculate timing as the back door swung open.

Paz looked more formidable than ever. He seemed to grow even taller, if that was even possible.

“As I told you last week, Dax, no one’s seen him in weeks.”

The silent man who was not Dax scoffed.

Paz continued, “and I thought I told you never to speak to my staff.”

Dax gave Paz a sickly, unnatural smile. It didn’t look like it belonged on his face. “I figured she might know something, seeing as she showed up right as Orso disappeared.”

You felt as if your entire body had been plunged into ice cold water. A deep, dreadful feeling took over the pit of your stomach.

These men have been watching us.

“Leave her out of this, she has nothing to do with any of it.”

He stalked towards the men threateningly.

“Now, if you want to talk to me, we can go ahead and talk in the office. Otherwise, get the fuck out of my bar.”

The other man scoffed again and nodded towards Dax.

“Come on, let’s go. We’ll be back next week to check on Orso’s whereabouts. If he doesn’t show his face soon, you know what will happen.”

They turned, their pristine white coats whipping behind them. The door swung shut with a bang.

You could only gape after them, so many questions spinning through your head. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know the answers to any of them.

“I’m going to drive you home tonight,” his tone left no room for argument. You weren’t about to object anyways. Even if you had to endure a tense car ride, you were a hell of a lot safer with him than by yourself.

You both locked up as quickly as possible and made your way to his truck, slamming the doors shut harder than necessary.

The air was thick as a blanket, filled with so many unanswered questions. If you weren’t so rattled from earlier, you would have realized this was the closest you had ever been to Paz.

“Are you going to tell me what that was about back there?” You asked, already knowing his answer.

“No.”

“If I’m in danger, I want to know why,” you told him, voice trembling. Your pulse was going a mile a minute.

“The less you know, the safer you are,” he said. His tone was still final, but not nearly as hard as you were expecting.

He looked over at you. All you could do was stare back at him, mouth agape. His face was half bathed in the moonlight, painting his face in a pale blue light that contrasted with the dark that surrounded you.

“I won’t let anything happen to you.” He said quietly.

You felt like your lungs couldn’t get enough air, as if the wind had been knocked out of you.

“Okay,” was all you said back. You weren’t sure if Paz even wanted to be here with you right now, but you trusted him.

He regarded you for a moment, seemingly trying to read your expression that gave way to any trepidations you had. You looked back at him, having every intention to tell him you trusted him, but the words died in your throat when you saw his expression. He looked so open, so raw.

You let yourself bask in this moment, in the dark cab of his truck. There wasn’t an opportunity before now to just look at him freely. He had a scar below his right eye, and his nose was just a little crooked. You wondered if it was from getting in fights. You wondered what, or who, he had fought for.

He was quite beautiful, in a hard, unrelenting kind of way. You wanted to find out why he had built a thick wall around himself. You wanted to trace the lines of his jaw and feel the contours of his lips.

His lips. Your eyes were laser-focused as his tongue came out to wet them. You found yourself thinking about what it would be like to taste them, to chase his tongue with yours.

He let out a shaky breath, snapping you back into the reality of the moment. You looked away, staring out the windshield, still watching his movements in the corner of your eye.

“We should go,” you wanted to flinch at the anxious edge to your voice.

Paz looked down at his lap and nodded.

“I’ll need you to navigate.”

You were grateful that Paz had stuffed a wad of cash in your hand last night before he dropped you off at your front door, mentioning to use it to Uber to work the next day. That meant you didn’t have to rush getting ready this morning to catch the bus to work, since you had left your car there.

It only took one tense night of locking your doors and windows, double checking the locks, drawing up your curtains and checking the locks again, followed by tossing and turning for hours on end only to fall asleep an hour before your alarm went off. It only took that one night for you to overthink everything.

It’s not that you were thinking about the creepy men that came in after closing. You had spent enough time to fret about that while you were trying to force your amped up body to relax last night.

This morning was spent overthinking every single interaction you ever had with Paz. He already had so much weight on his shoulders, running a business while his boss was off doing fuck knows what, while some seedy men were breathing down his back and basically stalking him at work.

Why should you add yourself to that list of responsibilities?

You had every intention to say good morning to him when you first saw him. He was walking out from the office, looking just about as exhausted as you were. You must have looked like a deer in headlights, because his eyebrows were raised in question, his head cocked to the side.

“I um, I was just going to the kitchen,” you said in an almost robotic voice.

You hightailed it out of the room before you could see the expression on his face.

Your heart was still pounding as you burst through the kitchen doors. This crush on your boss was really getting out of hand, and it only got worse after being in such close proximity last night. God, you probably looked ridiculous right now.

“What’s got you bursting in here like a bat out of hell?” You almost jumped out of your skin. Had Madge been next to you this whole time?

“I um, need coffee?” You said, accidentally wording it as a question. “If you have any extra, that is,” you added quickly.

Madge smirked, seeing right through your lie, but she didn’t question it.

“Just brewed a fresh pot. Knock yourself out.”

A little while later while you were back out front, stacking glasses between sips of coffee, you saw a plate slide into your peripheral.

“You look like you need this,” Madge winked. You looked down, mouth watering at the large pile of french fries.

“You’re a fucking saint, Madge.” You deadpanned. She cackled all the way back to the kitchen, throwing you another wink.

You didn’t see Paz much that day, and you were kind of grateful for it. Every time he entered the room you found some way to keep yourself busy to avoid his gaze.

He could probably tell you were being extra squirrely. Hell, everyone could tell.

Donny had taken you aside earlier and offered to let you take a hit of his cousin’s homegrown, to which you politely declined. Dillon remarked on how tense you looked and offered to massage your shoulders, to which you told him to fuck off.

Harlow didn’t say much, but she looked concerned. You pretended not to notice the sideways glances she was giving you.

A little while later, you were hunched over the bar, in the middle of writing out a supply order when you heard a throat clear from above you. It was a distinctly male sound. You almost dropped the pen in surprise when you looked up and saw Paz was standing before you, arm resting just a few inches from where yours was resting on the counter.

“I um,” Paz trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just wanted to see how you– how things are going out here.”

He sounded unsure of himself. He was standing a little less tall today, with his shoulder slumped over. Weary to the bone.

“I’m great, so good,” you babbled. “Nothing going on with me. Feeling peachy.”

“Uh, cool, yeah. Okay, I’ve got to uh...” he removed his hand from his neck and gestured towards the office before making his exit.

You collapsed, letting your head hit the bar with a thump. God, you hoped no one saw that go down.

“So, what the fuck was that?” Harlow said, walking over.

You sighed dramatically, your entire body feeling like it was being held down by bags of sand.

You lifted your head up a little, giving Harlow the most pathetic look you could muster.

“It was nothing,” you told her. You stood back up fully and busied yourself with organizing the coasters on the bar, hoping she would let it go.

“That didn’t look like nothing,” she said, trying to hide a smug smile.

You had two choices here. Tell Harlow about the sketchy men from last night, which was not an option, or tell her about the pathetic crush you were harboring for your boss.

You turned around to make sure no one else was around. Thankfully, Dillon was on his lunch break, Paz was holed up in the office, and Donny and Madge were both in the kitchen.

“Please don’t tell anyone–” you started, but were interrupted with a squeal.

“Harlow, shhhh!” You admonished her, desperately trying to reach out to her to clap a hand over her mouth to no avail. She danced away, wiggling like a toddler at a birthday party.

“You guys are totally fucking,” she whispered, her brown eyes wide as saucers.

“I– what? No we aren’t.”

“Come on,” she scoffed. “I saw that little trainwreck of an interaction back there.”

“No, really, we aren’t,” you told her, and added with a whisper, “though, I kind of wish we were.”

“Well,” she said, chewing on her lip in thought. “Judging by the way Paz was bodysnatched back there, he’s in the same boat.”

You rolled your eyes. No, that was absolutely because of the threatening men from last night. He just felt guilty you were now in the middle of all of it.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, missy,” she admonished, good-naturedly. “He totally looked scared shitless back there. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

You frowned in thought. He must be really freaked out by those men. You felt bad that you hadn’t noticed.

“No, I think it’s just a big misunderstanding,” you told her. “I think he thought he offended me last night because I was in a bad mood.” You were kind of impressed with the lies pouring out of your mouth at the moment. “I’m going to go talk to him.”

“Okay then,” Harlow said, smirking at you.

You charged towards the office and barged in before you could talk yourself out of it. It was Paz’s turn to look like a deer caught in headlights.

This was the first good look you had at him all day. The scruff on his chin was longer than usual. His eyes, despite being open wide in surprise, had dark shadows under them.

“I’m sorry, I should have knocked,” you said, turning to leave.

“Wait–” Paz reached out, grabbing your shoulder. He let go almost immediately, as if the touch burned him. “Come in.”

“I just wanted to see how you were doing after last night. I didn’t ask you how you were doing and I– I’m sorry.”

“That’s why you’ve been avoiding me all day? Because you feel bad for not asking me how I’m doing?”

You blanched. Yeah, you felt bad but that definitely wasn’t why you were avoiding him.

“I guess, yeah,” you said, huffing out a laugh.

“I wish I could tell you more, I really do.” Paz said, sitting on the edge of the desk. It immediately groaned in protest, so he stood back up. “I don’t want any of the staff here getting involved with Orso’s bullshit. The less you all know the better.”

You nodded in understanding. You really did understand it. But something nagged at you.

“But what about you?” You asked him. “You’ve already been dragged into it.”

The sad, fleeting look on his face was devastating. You could tell he wasn’t used to others worrying about him. He must have caught himself, because his expression hardened in resolve a moment later.

“I can take care of myself,” he said. “I’m working on getting a hold of Orso. Once he’s back they’ll leave us alone.”

You weren’t sure if you believed him, but you let it drop for the time being. You would just need to keep an eye on him in your own way.

“You should get going,” Paz said, changing the subject. “Your shift was over 10 minutes ago and I’m sure you need to get some sleep.”

“Yeah, I really do,” you said, giving him a tender smile. “Make sure you get some sleep tonight too.”

“I’ll try,” he said, his smile matching the one on your face.

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