#this is the most tedious piece I have ever worked on

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fanfic idea: Timeline Prevention Squad

Clockwork is trying to catch up on paperwork because even the gods had to do tedious work. He is flipping through pages and pages of time concerning reports when he stumbles across a particular request stuck between three old Speed Force crimes reports.

A request from Mordecai Wayne asking the time accident for help to his original time. It was filed through a ritual of one of his lost temples.

Clockwork gapes at it, suddenly realizing he forgot to follow up and had left Mordecai Wayne - better known as Bruce Wayne - to fling around the timeline.

Clockwork, when he was young, had allowed humans to set up temples and given them direct runes to send their burned parchment to him for requests. Initially, he designed the request ritual to enable humans to help or prepare for future disasters.

Give them a little warning in the form of deviation.

Then, humans turned it into trying to control the future. Or to change what had happened by having altered the past. They started thinking he would move the times to fit their desired outcome.

Tried to offer people sacrifices when he ignored the requests. Clockwork can watch the timelines like an observer over a parade, but humans put on the parade at the end of the day.

It was their free will that gave him a show. And it was this free will that cost lives that shouldn't have ended because of other humans' greed.

He closed his temples, scrambled his runes, and let his temples rot.

Clockwork thought he got them all, but he obviously left behind some crumbs of his old worshipers.

Those crumbs were enough for Bruce Wayne to painfully piece together and redo his ritual to send him a request for aid in his time placement.

He hadn't even read it, having flung it into one of his filing cabinets to look over later and... didn't.

Clockwork snapped his fingers, pulling up Bruce's timeline. He winces when he sees it too late; it's past the point, but luckily, Tim Drake pulled him out and brought him home.

People don't know that Clockwork can't undo timelines- he just makes new ones that stream off his intervention.

The most recent time he stepped in was with Danny Fenton in a universe created due to Merlin asking Clockwork to save his lover Arthur, and thus, certain events did not come to pass- like the finding of Gotham.

He rescued Daniel's family by freezing them just as the explosion happened, allowing the young hero to think his dark future had never come to pass. That was not true.

There is still a world where Daniel's family died in the explosion, and it existed right allowed side the one that they didn't.

He could do the same and step in to prevent Bruce from ever getting hit with the Omega Beams, but that would create six different timelines, which would be a pain to file for. Daniel was only two, and he-

Wait. Daniel.

That's what he could do!

He couldn't make up the fact Bruce Wayne got lost in time and asked for aid. But he could send compensation in the form of one eager gooddoer who would help him in his ultimate goal.

Make Gotham safe.

And who better than a child with a strong sense of justice and the power of a minor God?

After all, Bruce's request wasn't to get back home. He thought he was going to die from the overlapping beams. Bruce thought there was no more hope for him.

Instead his request was

Please allow me to ensure my kids are okay and will be alright once I pass.

He picks up his sticky notes, scrambling a quick message to Danny. He pauses momentarily, wondering if he should admit his mistake, but that would.....ruin his reputation.

He chooses to lie by omission.

Dear Daniel,

Please come to my Keep. I have a mission that requires your assistance in an alternate timeline.

You must help keep Bruce Wayne and his kids safe. Whatever the costs are, as is his request for aid from a higher being.

Daniel couldn't resist a mission that sounded like he was a hero, and it didn't mention who the aid was requested.

To ensure Daniel will never learn he will....tell him that the Waynes could never see Phantom or......or he be trapped there forever!

Yes perfect.

A few seconds after sending the sticky note through a portal, Clockwork senses Daniel pick up the note.

And suddenly, he sees events flash before his eyes. Scenes of Daniel following Gotham's hero. Rescuing them from their worst rouges while Bats. Circling through the nights to stop the more minor pity crimes that they were too exhausted to handle.

Enrolling into Gotham Academy to ensure their civilian safety and status. Getting close to the younger Wayne and even obtaining an internship with Tim Drake to help him at WE.

Then, Daniel gets more substantial and robust due to all the deaths that drenched Gotham. It would be just like a Kryptonian on a planet of a Blue Sun.

It would make him more robust than a yellow sun, and Daniel would flush there!

Clockwork smiles as the visions end. He did a great thing making this suggestion. Phantom will be fantastic in Gotham!

Now, hopefully, that pesky free will won't ruin his plan-

A vision of Daniel being worshiped as a Phantom as different Gotham natives start to believe him, and an unlock god appears.

Clockwork winces, but he figures if no human ever sees Phantom unless he is there for righteous heroism, he can understand why they were confused.

Which isn't so bad-

A different version of Daniel possibly appears in the future. This one shows Daniel in a bright red suit at WE with Tim Drake hyperventilating not too far away. Apparently, he suspects Daniel of being Phantom, but his hormones are getting in the way of his logical thought.

This wasn't so bad as it wasn't a cult. It was just risking Daniel's secret identity. Then again, he could honeypot his way out-

A different future appears. One where Daniel accidentally convinces the Bat children that he's stalking their Father. They think Daniel fancies Bruce Wayne, despite the alarming age difference, and try to block him at every turn.

This is okay; there were different outcomes, but nothing bad.

And it's already been done. He can't change the past, not without making more timelines.

He sighs.

Hopefully, this will all work out. Somehow.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Timeline Prevention Squad #Clockwork send Danny on a fake mission #Danny takes it very seriously #a whole new dimension for him to play in? #yes please #There could be so many outcomes that Clockwork can see #some are crazy

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

Secure in your Lap

ft Nanami Kento

a/n: I can't believe I finally wrote thisI So this was inspired by this ask from @sitarawrites. It was supposed to be a cute fluffy fic, but somehow devolved into this angsty piece, so idk. Although I wrote this fic with a desi/asian reader in mind, I think anyone with a difficult relationship with their parents can relate to this, and I hope it comes across that way.

Rating: 13+, nothing explicit or sexual

Warnings: difficult family dynamics, mentions of familial trauma, guilt, manipulation

Pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

Summary: A phone call from reader's mother results in her remembering all the reasons she's grateful for her now fiance.

Word Count: 2343

Nanami masterlist

It’s never a good day when your mother calls. Sometimes you wonder why you put up with it and allow her to test your boundaries, despite setting a schedule that you would not be calling her except for Tuesday and Friday nights.

Even the hour spent on those nights are tedious at best. They never make you feel better; it's all for her. It makes her feel better. And despite the fact that you have graciously made this time for her, she never seems to appreciate it. In fact, most of these conversations are one-sided. You’ll have your headphones in, while she chatters away, as you try to focus on other tasks, like folding laundry, or tidying up the general clutter that always accumulates in the living room, throwing in the occasional ‘uhm hm’ every few minutes so that she knows you’re still on the line.

You’ve learned to tune out most of the conversation because very little of it is ever relevant to you. Unless you hear a few key words such as ‘dad’ or ‘finances’ or ‘house’ you don’t really pay attention to the conversation at all. Because you know how most of these conversations go. They start with her talking about her day, complaining about her job. Then she complains about your dad, despite knowing you’ve heard it all before. Then it devolves into blaming other people for circumstances she’s in right now based on events that happened long ago. 

When all of these topics are exhausted, she gets to her juiciest arsenal; you. Oh, the things she has to say about you, about how you were such a wonderful child, sweet and obedient and how you suddenly became this rough woman who she doesn’t know how to talk to anymore. Or how you’ve stopped visiting of late, that you’re never home for the holidays, and that she blames your boyfriend for this. Then it’s criticism of your life choices, starting with how you moved in with your boyfriend while unmarried, the fact that he’s not from the same ethnic background as you, or the fact that she blames your ‘attitude’ on him because he defends you from her each time. 

Today it was about how you could do so much better than him, and you finally snap. 

“He’s not my boyfriend anymore.”

There’s a moment of silence, then with uncontained glee, she says, “Oh, I’m sorry. Well relationships sometimes don’t work out, it’s ok-”

“Because he asked me to marry him.” You finish bluntly, cutting her off. “He’s not my boyfriend anymore because he’s my fiance.” You wait for the bomb to drop.

“Oh.” Your mother’s voice sounds tight, like it’s been stretched taut between pins on a tacking board. “And when did this happen?”

“He proposed last Sunday.”

“And I’m finding out just now. You really must hate me…”

“Don’t do that,” You warn, keeping your voice deadly calm. You knew if you raised it or gave any signs that her words had affected you, it would give her a rush of satisfaction. “Either you’re happy for us or you’re not. Now which is it?”

“Well, it hardly matters now does it? Although I supposed I should be grateful you’re marrying him after all this time. There’s nasty gossip back in our community…so at least you’ve spared me from the embarrassing idea that you wouldn’t marry a man you’ve been living with like an unprincipled woman.”

“How lovely,” you said through gritted teeth. “Be sure to tell the community I have zero fucks to give them as well.”

“Language…I raised such a proper girl, when did you start saying filth like this?”

“I have to go mom. Your behavior will determine if you’re invited to the wedding or not.”

“You are the type to exclude your mother from your own wedding.I’ve known that for years. So it wouldn’t be that much of a surprise. Anyway, talk to you later…Friday night now?”

She disconnects the call and you sit there in disbelief, heart racing. Every time you stand up for yourself, you know it should feel like a victory but somehow, she manages to even steal that from you. You sigh and rest your head against the back of the car seat.

You had just driven home after a long day’s work and decided that it would be easier to talk to your mom in the car and finish it off since you didn’t want to detract from the peace you feel at home. You feel tears prick the back of your eyes and your throat feels like it’s closing in on itself. 

Why did you let her in on your life? There’s a strange sense of loyalty to her despite her abuse of you. Because despite everything, there are certain things she did which she wouldn’t have done if she hadn’t loved you. Putting you through your degrees, both bachelor’s and master’s. Letting you live at your parent’s house for free when you were in between jobs. Letting you borrow their car to get to job interviews. There’s signs of love there but why did it have to come attached with this emotionally manipulative price tag?

You let yourself cry for a short while, then hold up your left hand to admire the engagement ring your now fiance had picked out. A watery smile breaks out over your face as you look at it. You feel vain when you allow yourself to do this, but you can’t help it. You weren’t really looking at it for it’s monetary value, but more so for what it symbolized; the peace and balance he brought to your life, the maturity your own parents lacked while raising you, and the security that it didn’t matter if you made a bad choice, he’d never make you feel worse about it.

Wiping away your tears, you turn off the car and quickly look at yourself in the mirror. Thankfully your makeup hadn’t smudged much and you could chalk up the tiredness in your eyes as lack of sleep. You take a deep breath before getting out and entering your home. Your fiance was unloading takeout containers from a bag as you entered. He looks up and smiles warmly at you.

“Thought I heard you in the driveway,” he says as he comes over to embrace you, his arms enveloping you with affection. Nanami presses a kiss to your forehead then pulls you in closer, tucking your head under his chin.

You let yourself rest against the warmth of his broad chest, the comfortingly familiar feel of his body relief to the turmoil inside your chest. Resting your cheek on his chest, you close your eyes and breathe in deeply. 

“Y/n? Are you all right?”

Nanami always notices. There’s never a single moment when he’s out of touch with your feelings. He’s learned all the lines in your face, the way your different facial muscles contract or relax depending on how you're feeling. He notices the tension in your shoulders, the slight drop in energy in your step as you walk through the door. Nanami always notices. 

You slowly shake your head no. The flurry of feelings inside you, the hurt, the disappointment, the inability to cut off your mom for good, the overwhelming feeling of being inadequate, a disappointment, churn inside you to the point that you feel like you may never come out of this cyclone feeling like a winner. It’s so complex that you’re not even sure where to begin or how to put it into words. Your thoughts and feelings tangle like a ball of string, knotting into a mess of strands that are impossible to separate. 

“Kento.”

“Yes my love?” His hands run soothingly over your back. 

“I need your lap.”

That was all you could say at the moment. The complexity of everything was too much to bear. Over the years his lap has become a safe space for you. A quiet, designated spot where you could feel everything you wanted to, without any judgment. 

Nanami nodded wordlessly, gently taking your hand and leading you to the couch, sitting down and pulling you on top of his lap. Your feet wrap around his lower back, wedged between the sofa cushions and his body while your head rests on his chest, listening to his breathing and you try to match yours to his, a calming technique you’ve learned over the years.

His large hands play with your hair, stroking it, cupping the back of your head and gently pressing kisses to your forehead. He’s learned over the years that lap sessions meant you were in a state of distress and that it wasn’t his place to force you to talk. You would talk when you’re ready, if at all. 

“Mom?” he asks softly, his voice fluttering through the top of your hair. You merely nod, the thought of explaining it too difficult to even form words. A deep hum of understanding echoes from his chest and you close your eyes at the comforting sound.

Everything about him screamed security. You remember one time breaking a cup while making your morning coffee, the distinct crack of shattering porcelain filling the kitchen. You had flinched, waiting for the tirade of blame and accusations of clumsiness to come at you, only to see Nanami rushing over to you, concern etched all over his face.

“Are you all right? You didn’t get cut?” His words had brought you to tears, that his primary thought had been you and your safety, instead of a very replaceable coffee cup. No one yelling at you for making a mess in the kitchen, or muttering under their breath that you had wasted a usable mug. Nanami had, in a befuddled state, watched as you came to his side, wrapping your arms around him. It wasn’t until 2 weeks after the incident had happened that you had told him what that moment meant to you. 

And now here you were, again, allowing your mom to rob you of the happiness you had worked so hard to build. You're amazed at the patience Nanami has with you, at the way he always reassures you, never letting you forget your worth. That you're more than just your parents’ child. That you are a whole human being on your own, that has the right to live your life without their interference. 

“I don't think I want my parents at our wedding.” The words fall out of your mouth. There's lingering guilt but deep down, you knew it was for the best. 

Nanami adjusts himself on the couch and leans back against the cushions. Most of the time, he leaves handling your parents up to you, despite how much it bothers him that they ruin your mood every time. But there's understanding in his eyes. 

“Not even your dad? I thought you wanted him to give you away.”

“My dad’s an enabler. He'll never come if I don't invite my mom. Besides,” you inhale deeply and continue, “The only person worthy of giving me away is myself.” You gaze into his warm brown eyes, feeling proud that you had come this far. This would be your achievement today. That you were able to say these words and believe them. 

“That’s so very true sweetheart.” He gives you a reassuring squeeze. “Look at you, remembering your affirmations.”

Although it’s not much, you still feel yourself glowing at his praise. Growth on your end. “Besides, if they got involved, they’d hijack all the planning, blow it up into a grand ceremony even though that’s not what we want. It’s just easier without them.”

“Anything you want.” He brushes his lips against your hair.

“No, not anything I want. It’s your wedding too. I’d be ok if you wanted a ceremony. I imagine there’s lots of people you’d want to invite. I just won’t be inviting anyone from my side. Except for my best friend.”

He grasps your chin between his fingers and with sincerity asks you, “How did you imagine it?”

You consider this for a second. Previously, you had imagined the typical traditional wedding that people of your background were expected to have. But the image has been fading lately, and now, unburdened from your parents’ expectations, your mind immediately creates a picture.

“I want to do it at the beach. Just…no expectations, no one grumbling about how we skimped on decorations or other unnecessary things like flowers. I want…to walk down towards you on the sand, barefoot. Feel the ocean breeze on my face. There’s a small group of guests. Very minimalistic.”

He looks like he’s considering it for a moment but his expression doesn’t show signs of objection. “We could do that. Small wedding, intimate ceremony.”

“Really?” You look at him with love in your eyes.

“Really. I think all the people I want to invite would easily fit into this setting.”

You lean forward and wrap your arms around him tightly. There were simply no words to express how grateful you are for him, for his presence in your life. That you could actually be a family, just the two of you.  You lean back to take in all of him, just sitting serenely on the couch, in this shared space the both of you called home now. 

“Thank you, Kento.” You say quietly. You know it’s unnecessary, that his love is so very unconditional, no emotional price tags attached. “I know I’m not the easiest to love sometimes.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” He draws you tightly to his chest. “It’s so easy to love you. Because every small thing you do is filled with love and consideration. Thoughtfulness. Emotion. And that’s enough. You don’t have to be more than that.”

Your heart swells as you hear his words, the only person to ever really understand just how much you needed to know those things. 

“I’m enough.” You whisper softly, still on his lap, resting comfortably in his embrace. You rest your head on his shoulder, eyes closing.

I’m enough…

all banners and dividers by @cafekitsune

#nanami #nanami kento #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x y/n #kento nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #kento nanami #nanami kento fluff #desi reader #nanami kento x desi reader #desi writers #desi women #nanami kento x indian reader #desi tag #nanami kento x you

[ackermanbloodline]

ackermanbloodline masterlist

Here is a compilation of all my work in one place. I write for Levi Ackerman of Attack on Titan and pair it with a female reader. This will be updated as I publish new pieces.

Ground Rules

My work is intended for adult audiences only. Minors are not to interact with my content in any way, shape, or form.

I am not interested in my work being translated into other languages by a third party.

My work is not to be reposted, copied, or replicated in any form for any reason on any platform except for Tumblr reblogs.

Asterisk Guide

* = Fluffy content * = Sexual content * = Angst * = Violent content

Series

Paperwork Summary: As captain, part of your responsibilities is ensuring that the tedious amount of paperwork following every mission gets done. But when your team goes out on an expedition and all get slaughtered, you find yourself absolutely drowning in it. A giant pile of papers at your desk is now under a strict deadline by Commander Erwin for the next morning. How will you get it done in time? Word Count: 24k

Part I

Part II *

Part III **

Part IV **

Letting Go Summary: You and the gang go out clubbing to have some fun after a long day. To your surprise, Captain Levi shows up. Word Count: 9k

Part I

Part II *

The Breaking Point Summary: You reach your breaking point with your relationship with Levi. Word Count: 11.5k

Part I *

Part II *

Part III **

One Shots

"First one to cum loses." * Summary: Levi sets you up for a challenge. Word Count: 2.3k

In Sickness & In Health * Summary: Levi is bedridden and sick. He insists he's fine and prioritizes your health over his, but he eventually caves and lets you take care of him. Word Count: 1.2k

The Most Unusual Day * Summary: Levi brings your daughter to base for the day. Word Count: 3.2k

Breathe Me ** Summary: You and your boyfriend, Levi, who never smokes, smoke together. Word Count: 4k

"It wasn't from you." * Summary: You try to relax after the Assault on Stohess. But the night has other plans for you as an assailant attacks you. And the last person you ever expected defends your honor. TRIGGER WARNING: ATTEMPTED SEXUAL ASSAULT Word Count: 3.8k

The Lethality of Silence ** Summary: Levi comes home from a mission unable to speak or function. You take care of him in more ways than one. Word Count: 2.7k

Middle of the Night ** Summary: You and Levi have been going through a dry patch in your relationship. You reckon to fix that. Word Count: 4k

The Autumnal Equinox ** Summary: Queen Historia has taken the throne and there's a ceremony to attend in celebration of the remaining Scouts' honor, on the day of the Autumnal Equinox. Since Levi isn't exactly in the most cheery mood, you propose a lustful deal. Word Count: 3.2k

Take Me ** Summary: You allow Levi to take your virginity. Word Count: 5k

"I think you made a mess." ** Summary: Levi makes you squirt. Word Count: 1.5k

The Cure For Insomnia ** Summary: You take Levi's virginity. Word Count: 4k

The Best-Kept Secrets * Summary: "Kissing to hide from bad guys" trope. Word Count: 1.5k

Covetous Eyes * Summary: Captain Levi is jealous that you're spending time with a higher-ranking member of the Survey Corps. Word Count: 6.7k

Through the Threads of Time * Summary: You and Levi run into each other after decades of not seeing each other. Word Count: 3.2k

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi aot #levi attack on titan #levi x reader #levi heichou #levi x you #snk levi #levi ackerman smut #aot smut #aot x reader #aot fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #attack on titan smut #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan x you #snk fanfiction #snk x reader #snk smut #snk #levi ackerman x female reader #shingeki no kyoujin #levi x y/n #levi ackerman fluff #aot levi #aot #captain levi #captain levi x reader

[drunk-on-dk]

Girls Talk Boys | Yoon Jeonghan (m)

✦pairing: roommate!Jeonghan x afab reader

✦genre: fluff, some smut (minor DNI)

✦warnings: smut (minors DNI), unprotected sex (pls use protection pls), fingering, handjob, TEASING, use of the nickname angel, maybe a bit of rough sex, some spanking, kind of pwp with most of the plot leading into the spicy scenes.

✦wc: ~4.6k

✦summary: Jeonghan overhears what you talk about with your friends, and your constant teasing of each other becomes all too much to handle.

✦ AN: Hi all, back with another fic that I've been working on! Still probably deserves some more proofreading as usual, but I hope you all enjoy it! Girls Talk Boys by 5SOS was on repeat for this one.

Living with Yoon Jeonghan was surprisingly comfortable, you coexisted well enough due to both of you being relatively laid back. Your mutual friend, Joshua, had introduced you two about six months ago, hearing that you both were on the hunt for a roommate, and he claimed neither of you would be able to find a better roommate than each other. Joshua was correct in that assumption, as living with Jeonghan proved to be simple, relaxed, and easy enough since you were both homebodies. Still, there was some excitement in the apartment. Even though you both were soft-hearted, there was a mischievous atmosphere in your household, which kept things exciting throughout most weekdays.

Most nights in your apartment either consisted of you two enjoying each other’s presence in silence, working on your own little projects and hobbies, or spending the night sipping on cheap red-wine, playing card games, and laughing obnoxiously whenever you would somehow out-cheat the cheater himself. Some nights you’d even assist Jeonghan with his latest and absolutely, ridiculously complex Lego set. You’d refrain from complaining, not understanding how he can find joy in such a tedious project, but you knew it made him happy, so you’d help anyways when he’d ask you to organize the pieces for him.

These nights were how you got to know Jeonghan the best, observing his little quirks, getting to know what made him tick, and coming to understand he really did care too much sometimes for his own good. You would find yourself shocked at the way you’d watch Jeonghan smash the fridge door shut in anger, pitching a fit over the ice machine that has broken down for the 3rd time this week, only to then walk over to you with a smile on his face to ask what you’d like to drink. Staring back at him with bug-eyes, you’d simply mutter out that you’d like some water in response, and he’d come skipping back with a full glass for you, plopping right back down to resume working on his Lego set.

Some nights, mostly on occasions that you and Jeonghan had a long day at work, you’d spend the time together watching a movie with his head rested in your lap. You’d find yourself running your hands through his locks, ever so often flickering your attention down to him and admiring his natural beauty. Sometimes your mind would go haywire, intrusive thoughts taking over and thinking up what-if scenarios. What-if you were to lean down ever so slightly and plant a kiss on his soft lips? What-if you were to suddenly confess all the dirty thoughts that run through your mind when his t-shirt rises a bit too high when he stretches? What-if you were to confess you could see him being someone you’d like to introduce as more than a roommate to your parents? You’d have to shake yourself out of the thousands of thoughts running through your head, returning your focus on the movie playing on the screen ahead of you.

Little did you know, Jeonghan would find himself staring up at you as well with endearing, wandering eyes. He couldn’t believe Joshua had set him up with a roommate like you. You seemed so untouchable to him, better than he’d ever be, and he was thankful you had come into his life. Of course, he’d also curse Joshua for not giving him a heads-up on your appearance, shocked by your beauty the day he first met you. Still to this day he finds himself blushing when you exit the shared bathroom, bathrobe wrapped around your frame as you scurry back to your room.

Jeonghan would also find himself shuddering as your fingers would rake through his hair during movie night. Sometimes if you’d drop your hand a little bit too low towards his neck and shoulders, he’d find himself shifting from your touch, suppressing the thoughts that raced through his mind. Only if your hands would continue moving a bit lower, what would that entail?

He'd end up teasing you for it of course, as it was the only way he could escape his restless mind. “Ya! Watch your hands, your cold little fingers are slipping into my collar,” he’d scold you, playfully whacking your hand away.

However, you didn’t always pick up on his teasing. A red hue immediately colored your face as you ripped your hand away from Jeonghan’s hot skin. “I’m sorry, Hannie, got a little too into the movie, I guess,” you’d chuckle out, but really your hand did begin to wander subconsciously, tracing his soft skin, which was embarrassing even though only you knew. 

Your innocent demeanor drove him crazy sometimes, especially the way your lips would pout when you’d use his nickname. This often led to him pleasuring himself late at night after the movie, the image of you in your little sleepshirt sauntering back to your room burnt into his mind. He just wished he could march over to your room, rip that shirt right off you, and teach you a lesson for teasing him all night long, even if it wasn’t intentional. That fantasy was enough to push him over the edge most nights, but it was proving to get harder and harder, craving the real thing instead.

On the contrary, Jeonghan knew you weren’t so innocent, knowing you were confident and quite the flirt. Sometimes, you had different escapades return with you from your occasional nights out with your friends. He wasn’t shocked when he’d find your black mini dress the night from before discarded in the middle of the hallway. A blush shading your cheeks the next morning as you’d toss the garment into your room before heading to the kitchen for breakfast. He’d tease you incessantly for the next couple of days, rightfully earning a harmless slap to the arm each time he brought it up.

One night specifically, Jeonghan found himself eavesdropping as you were on a group call with your friends in your bedroom. Absolutely, positively on accident, as Jeonghan would like to claim, he’d never intrude and purposely eavesdrop on your conversations. He’d argue that the thin walls did not do a great job at filtering out sound, and, clearly, he couldn’t help but overhear when you had the sound turned up so loud. Of course, his interest was piqued when he heard his name come from one of the voices on your phone.

“Hey, Y/N, could you set me up with that roommate of yours, Jeonghan is it?” He heard a high-pitched voice ask, a chorus of laughter coming from the line.

He could hear another voice pipe in, “me too? Unless you’re interested yourself, Y/N, huh?” The laughter turned into ooo’s and ahh’s, and he could hear you struggling to quiet them down, trying to get a word in yourself.

Jeonghan ended up with an ear pressed against the wall, his futile attempt to convince himself not to listen in on your conversation failing. He wanted to hear what you had to say, but you spoke so quietly in comparison to the sound blaring from your phone that he couldn’t make out what you said initially.

However, Jeonghan felt like he hit the lottery upon hearing what seemed like another confession. He could barely make out the last sentence you muttered before the noise on the other end picked up again.

“Jeonghan’s a little shit, but I’d fold if he’d ever ask me to.”

He could hear you giggling, the sweet tune blending in with your friends’ laughter as they seemed to encourage your confession. Jeonghan could just imagine the blush that adorned your cheeks, probably trying to hide your embarrassment from your friends. He had to hold himself back from slamming his hand against the wall, the sudden desire to make your wish come true consuming him. Your words went straight to his cock, and he tried his best to not let that simple sentence lead him over to your room and fuck you silly.

Luckily for you, it seemed like your friends no longer had time to pry, as the group call came to an end due to Ubers starting to arrive. Suddenly, your room seemed all too silent, the only thing he could make out was the clicking of your heels on the wooden floor. The sound became louder and louder, only realizing you had walked over to his room when he heard a knock at his bedroom door.

Scrambling from his spot against the wall, he runs over to his door, “coming!” He must have swung the door open with an unusual amount of force, heavily breathing due to sprinting across the room. You stood there looking like a deer in headlights even though you were the one who just knocked.

You stood there, the juxtaposition of sexiness and innocence that suited you so well, your doe-like eyes contrasting the little black dress and stilettos. You noticed the way Jeonghan’s eyes raked up and down your body, a shaky hand running through his hair as he caught his breath. It made you nervous, not used to Jeonghan’s eying you so closely, a darkness in them that you weren’t necessarily familiar with, and it made your heart race in your chest.

“You doing okay, Hannie?” You’d question, concerned by the way his chest rises and falls, unsure what is actually up with him.

“Just peachy,” he’d smile, hand gripping the door frame as he leaned closer towards you. He notices the way you slightly lean back, your cheeks turning a pinkish color as his face got closer to yours. He could smell the warm vanilla scent of your perfume, the one that oddly comforted him every time you walked past him. However, this time it only drove him more feral, cursing you for being such a tease all the time without even knowing it. “Heard you’re going out with the girls, where are you headed tonight?”

“Yeah, I’m meeting them out at Bar Ledo tonight, but I haven’t had anything to drink yet,” you start off, your blush fading away as a small smirk appears on your face when you ask Jeonghan your next question. “I thought that maybe you’d want to have a glass of wine together before I leave? Maybe let me kick your ass at a game of Uno? That is if you don’t have any plans.”

Jeonghan indeed didn’t have any plan. His only plans with the boys falling through tonight due to Seungcheol’s unfortunate case of food poisoning and Joshua somehow scoring a date with a person he met at a café earlier today. The night seemed kind of hopeless for Jeonghan until now.

“You’re on, don’t forget who the reigning champion of Uno this past week is,” Jeonghan brushes past you, mischievous smile on his face as he heads to the kitchen to pop the cork on one of your favorite wines. He chuckles quietly to himself when he hears a little celebratory whoop from you as you scurry to go grab the Uno cards. You’re quick to return, the Uno set being easily accessible as it’s a game night favorite of yours.

Trying your best to help Jeonghan out, you reach for the wine glasses up at the top of the cabinet. Unfortunately, you still aren’t tall enough to reach them even with your heels, a small grunt escaping your lips as strain to reach the glasses.

Tsking from behind you, Jeonghan approaches you with one hand placed on the small of your back, the other reaching up to grab the wine glasses for you. He couldn’t stop his wandering hands, not at the way your dress rode up as you stretched upwards. The heat that radiates from his body is enough to send warmth headed straight towards your lower stomach. “Still too short I see, what would you ever do without me?”

His hot breath on your neck is enough to make you turn to face him, hoping he’d step away, but he doesn’t at all. It makes your body temperature rise at an alarming rate. Rather, he keeps his body pressed against yours, tapping your nose with his pointer finger. You have to shove him away, grabbing one glass out of his hand and making your way to the opened bottle of wine.

You’re rambling, hoping to suppress the fire burning inside of you, “I’d actually be just fine, contrary to popular opinion, thank you very much. In fact, the only thing stopping me is that I’m still financially recovering from university, but, you know, sooner or later that all will be resolved. Otherwise, I’m perfectly capable.” Your shaky hands give you away though, pouring your glass of wine unsteadily before he holds his out, an unspoken request to pour him a glass. You pray he doesn’t realize the way you tremble, but the wine bottle almost slips out of your hand, thankfully, Jeonghan is quick-thinking to catch it.

He sends you a puzzled look, a melodious chuckle escaping his lips, one that mocks you and teases you in an unbearable way, “you sure about that?”

“Very,” you huff, deciding to sit down on the barstool opposite of where he stands at the kitchen island. You need distance, and you need a distraction ASAP. “Now, let’s play some Uno.”

You two play Uno, and as per usual, Jeonghan somehow wins multiple rounds. It’s absolutely infuriating at this point. You find yourself leaning over the counter, accusatory finger pointed at him, feeling a little fired up from the glass of wine and the constant teasing after each loss. “Admit it, you’re cheating! I don’t know how you can even cheat at Uno, but I know you are.”

He's chuckling, hands up at both sides of his head as if to plead his innocence. He couldn’t believe you were so fired up, usually after you’d lose a couple of games you’d give up with a huff and ask to play a different game. He found it unreasonably sexy, the way you were bent over the counter yelling at him, and he could ever so slightly peek down at your cleavage.

He refrained, staying silent as you continued to bark accusatory statements at him. Shocked when you hopped down from your barstool and travelled over to his side again. You were basically pressed against him, tiny hands grabbing at his pockets, “I know you have wild cards and draw four cards stashed in those pockets, Jeonghan.”

You’ve worked him up beyond belief at his point, the way your hands grab at him drove him to his breaking point. Gasping when Jeonghan grabs your wrists, he spins you around to press you flat against the counter. He has a strong grip on your wrists, holding them against your back as he leans over to whisper into your ear, “you better watch your hands, Y/N. I can only take so much teasing myself.”

His hot breath sends shivers down your spine once again, involuntarily making you push your ass back into him. This didn’t help your case at all, a harsh slap coming down onto your ass cheek as he lets out a growl. “What did I say about only taking so much teasing?”

You feel wetness begin to pool in your panties as he brings another harsh slap down to the same spot. You’re a whining mess already, begging Jeonghan to do something, anything. The only thing that snaps you back into reality is the vibration of your phone on the counter. Your group message was blowing up; notifications that the girls were arriving to the bar, finally meeting up, and wondering where you were currently.

You’d attempt to reach for your phone if Jeonghan still didn’t have your arms tightly held against your back. Honestly though, you couldn’t care less about being late to your plans right now, not when you could feel Jeonghan’s erection pressing into your ass, hot hand palming your burning cheek.

You can sense the smirk on his face when he asks, “what do you talk about with your girls? Do you talk about me?”

You’re not sure how to respond, stuttering out a response as his hand slowly travels from your ass, down to the back of your thigh, and finally snaking in between your legs. “S-Sometimes.”

“What do you say about me?” His fingers delicately trace up between your legs, landing so close to where you desire him the most. He’s teasing you by rubbing small, firm circles into your inner thigh, the motion enough to work you up that you’re squirming against the counter. You want to break free and reach behind you to pull him closer, craving to feel him pressed harder against you. He doesn’t let you move though. “Do you tell them that I’m a sweetheart, or do you tell them dirty things you’d like to do to me?”

“Fuck,” you’re gasping, trying to catch your breath as much as possible, the countertop no longer feeling cool against your skin. “I told them that I’d fold for you, Jeonghan, that I’d like to be bent over just like this.”

“I know, angel,” he coos, and you feel his fingers finally trace your folds, sure that your panties have soaked through by now. “I’ve heard it earlier.”

You feel embarrassed, unsure what he means by that. You assume it can only mean one thing, “Did you overhear what I said earlier, Jeonghan?” You yelp when you feel your panties get pushed to the side, a long finger dipping deep into your cunt. “Jesus, Jeonghan, were you listening in on my conversation?”

Jeonghan adds another finger, deeming that you are more than wet enough to take it, and you moan out in confirmation. “So what if I overheard you? We wouldn’t be where we are right now if I didn’t, right?” His fingers are moving in and out of you at a teasing pace now, slightly curling and beckoning louder moans from you. You’re nodding pathetically, deciding to table this conversation for later.

He finally lets go of the wrists pinned behind your back, but scolds you immediately for reaching towards him, “keep your hands above your head like a good little angel, or else I won’t let you cum. You’re so grabby all the time, such a tease.”

His free hand pushes your dress up to your waist, finally allowing Jeonghan to get a better view of the red marks he left on your ass. Groaning at the sight, Jeonghan palms the plump mound with his hand, his fingers now moving in and out of you at a brutal pace.

You’re soon begging for your release, “p-please, Jeonghan, I’ll be good. I’ll do whatever you want.” He’s pulling you up now, arm wrapping around the front of your waist to pull you tight against his chest. His fingers don’t stop working inside of you, you’re shaking as you feel your orgasm approaching, and Jeonghan can feel the way you clamp around his fingers. Deciding you don’t deserve it yet, he yanks his fingers out of your heat, and spins you around to face him finally.

Crying out in annoyance, he hushes you swiftly, “don’t you dare whine, angel. Be a good girl and you’ll eventually get what you deserve.” He’s quick to pull your dress off you finally, your chest spilling out due the lack of a bra underneath. The sight almost pisses him off, unbelieving that you’ve been sat here the whole time without a bra on. “Such a fucking tease, Y/N,” and with that his lips are diving into yours; your first kiss being driven by messy passion and pent-up tension.

Your hands are wandering all over his body, starting at the soft tresses of his hair and running down his sides to where the waistband of his sweatpants is. Your hands slip past the band, and you’re greeted immediately with his hard cock, precum leaking from the tip. Smirking against his lips, “You say I’m the tease, meanwhile here you are with no boxers on.”

Jeonghan’s kisses become rougher, lips trailing down your jaw to your neckline, and nibbling into the sensitive skin. His hands are now working at your pert nipples, expertly rolling them in between his fingers as you begin to stroke at his length. “Well at least you’re finally using your hands for something good,” he’s whispering as he begins to suck at a nipple, hands now grabbing at your hips as they buck towards him, the feeling of his heavy cock in your hands and his mouth on your nipple becoming all too much for you.

He's finally had enough, realizing he won’t last long when you pull your hand from his pants to spit in your palm, your now lubricated hand jerking him off expertly. With that, he’s grabbing you by the hips to pick you up, legs instinctively wrapping around him as he carries you to his bedroom.

Jeonghan wastes no time, dropping you down to the bed, and pulling his t-shirt and sweatpants off as you scramble to regain your composure. You take the time to admire Jeonghan, he’s a work of art, and you can’t believe you’ve been blessed with such a roommate. Jeonghan can say the same about you, admiring the way you’re laid out in his bed, his own little angel sent to him by Joshua.

The only thing stopping him from fucking you at this point are the soaked, lace panties that he couldn’t bother to take off earlier. “Take them off for me, Y/N,” he’s commanding, watching as you stare up at him with lustful eyes, a daring spark in them.

You take your sweet time, parting your legs for him to watch as flick your heels off and painfully, slowly pull your underwear down, letting the thin fabric fall at your ankles. You hold the panties up from one ankle, letting them dangle at his eye level as you rise to your elbows, knowing you’re doing exactly what would irk him the most: teasing him.

He knows damn well what you’re trying to do, finding your attempt to tease him humorous as he snatches the fabric from your ankle. He’s quick to move over top of you, once again grabbing your wrists. However, this time he’s using the thin, elastic fabric to tie them together above your head. You aren’t sure how, but he successfully accomplishes binding your wrists together.

“That wasn’t so smart of you now, was it, angel?” He’s cooing at you, a hand brushing over your hair before grabbing his cock, hot and heavy, the angry, red tip begging to be shoved into you. “Like I said, only good girls get what they deserve.”

“S-sorry, Jeonghan,” you’re moaning out as he begins to guide his tip between your folds. “Please, if you just fuck me, I’ll stop with the teasing and be a good girl.”

“Oh really?” He’s looking at you quizzically, testing the waters as he begins to press into you with a bit more force, your own hips trying to chase his to offer you some relief.

You’re starting to lose it, nonsensically muttering out pleas as he continues to tease at your folds, making you jerk every time he brushes your clit. Finally, Jeonghan can no longer handle his teasing himself, and without a second guess, he pushes his cock into your warm walls. You’re so tight and warm that he thinks he might explode without warning, a loud groan leaving from the depths of his chest as you welcome him in so easily.

“Fuck, angel, you feel so good,” he’s praising you for once, shallowly beginning to fuck in and out of you, making sure you’re feeling the same degree of pleasure as him before he starts to move too much. “Taking me in so well, would have never thought you were such a tease like this.”

“Ha-Hannie, I’ve been good, haven’t I?” You’re asking, motioning to the hands tied up above your head. “Please untie me, want to touch you.”

He obliges, agreeing that you’ve been good enough when he feels your walls clamp against his length without provoking you to. You’re quick to grab his face with your hands, pulling him into a desperate kiss, feeling his cock throbbing inside of you as you clamp harder around him. You need some movement, losing all sensibility from the way he thrusts shallowly inside you still.

“Such a good girl,” he’s breathing out between kisses, “feeling you tighten so needily around me, maybe the tease deserves a reward.”

“Fuck me harder, Jeonghan,” you’re begging, hands wrapped in his hair as he begins to pick up pace. “Fuck me hard and deep, please.”

Your moans turn into screams as his lengths pulls out of you, the emptiness feeling disappointing, only for him to begin snapping his hips into you at an increased pace. You feel the curve of his cock hit your g-spot, something past lovers haven’t been able to accomplish. The bed shakes from the strength that he’s fucking you, feeling the way your body moves up the mattress towards the headboard. He’s rough in how he thrusts into you, but still gentle, like himself, as he holds your face in one hand, lips coming down to kiss you, swallowing all your screams like he knows they belong to him.

“My little tease, my little angel,” he’s muttering out between his own wonton noises, shocked at the way your little pussy sucks him back in every time. He can’t escape the pleasure that is you, his movements are becoming sloppier with each thrust, and he knows he has to make sure you finish first. He’s running a hand down to your clit, feeling the swollen bud throb against his thumb as he works you closer to your orgasm.

The feeling is heavenly, the way he moves so deeply inside of you, and with the added pressure to your clit, you’re seeing the bright white light of your release. You’re not sure how loud you are when the rubber band inside of you finally snaps, your orgasm relinquishing you as you finally reach your high for the night. Jeonghan is continuing to fuck you through it, and you can feel him throbbing inside of you as you clench impossibly tighter around him.

“Such a good girl, cumming around my cock like that,” Jeonghan is close to reaching his own high, hips stuttering as you beg for him to release inside of you, your walls milking him for all he’s worth. He’s pulling you in for one last kiss, loving the way your lips feel against his, all swollen and pouty from tonight. He’s tempted to overstimulate both of you, but he knows he’d be pushing his boundaries if he did.

Reluctantly, he pulls out of you, watching his cum drip from between you folds. Pride wells within his chest, proud of you for taking his cock so well without a fight. Proud to stake a claim over his angel. He’s quick to take care of you, cleaning you up and throwing a comfy, oversized white tee over you.

Jeonghan is climbing into bed next to you, your grabby hands as always pulling him into you, and wrapping you into his arms. He already knows the first thing he’s going to ask you after everything that has occurred tonight.

“So, what are you going to say to the girls about me now? Did I successfully make you fall in love with me yet?”

#svthub #jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #roommate!jeonghan

[dorcas4meadowes]

could you do a luke fic where an apollo kid reader teaches him how to play guitar?(and maybe sing together) also i love your works🫶

Taught Strums

Pairing - Luke Castellan x Apollo!reader

W/c - 1.5

Master list

A/n: you are so sweet ml <33

✧༺༻∞ ✧༺༻∞ ✧༺༻∞

Attempting to engage a handful of demigod children proved to be tedious. It was more tempestuous than a quest ever could ever be. You were exceedingly grateful for your students' inherent abilities to produce music, but it sounded as pleasant as a group of seven could on untuned guitars.

This was the most demanding part of your mornings, seeking out gratitude amongst the ringing noises. You woke with the desire to teach and would leave feeling mildly accomplished, but mostly drained. You loved your siblings, but they had demonstrated to be rather difficult.

You moved your brother’s grip to grasp a chord and allowed a gentle note to caress your ears.

“When can I learn a song?” He asked, strumming gently against his instrument.

“You keep this up and maybe by the weekend.” You replied with a soft smile.

“Really!?” The small blonde you assisted, beaming at his success.

You wouldn’t admit to favourites amongst your siblings, but the Solace boy raised your spirits.

Your sister called for your assistance and you were once again whisked away to help, oblivious to the eyes that remained on your applicable frame.

Your boyfriend was at the dining pavilion playing a distracted game of cards, his gaze gently on you. He watched you lean forward, the beads around your neck slipping over your shirt, his sight set on an additional emblem that graced the thread around your neck and his. Few campers had nostalgic pieces adorned to their threads, Annabeth had her fathers college ring, a few of the demeter kids had resin pressed flowers, but you and Luke shared a small stone carving a Lyre. It represented your gift, your love and the ever dreamt of Elysium. The charm is a constant affirmation of who you belonged to and who he would seek out in the depths of Tartarus.

“Luke,” Chris gestured, having to repeat his name to gather his attention, “your play man.” He mindlessly set out a card and let his gaze return back to your attentive grasp, soaking in your warmth. He couldn’t help but dismiss the meaningless game when you were near, he was like a moth to a flame, your fire slowly making his other priorities melt.

“Dude just go.” Connor took the pile of cards back and began to shuffle them, a few of them floating on the ground.

Luke didn’t have to be told twice and let the invisible guide between you tug him to your presence, to your sweet smile and gentle hands. His inherent nature was dependent on you, he was forever reaching out.

“Hi Luke,” a few of your siblings chorused, your head turning at his arrival.

“Bad time?” He asked.

“Just a minute,” you replied, turning to your sister. While you assisted the girl your siblings instantly flocked to Luke, asking questions about swords and fighting, the real world and about anything that came to their small minds.

As to your promise you salvaged him from your pestering - loving - siblings, explaining that practice was to be finished later, leaving them with a guitar’s neck in your grasp.

“Where to, ‘Lucy Gray’?” he asked, his calloused hands finding yours.

“You’ll see.”

The sun followed wherever your feet trailed, an ever glowing halo making your skin warm to the touch, Luke forever in the palm of your hand. You led him towards the lake, just to where the stones met the lush grass and blanketed at the base of an Oak tree, a seat woven from the flora and roots.

The plants saved you from your troubles and moulded around you, sculpting against your body and Luke’s alike, your guitar resting in your lap. Your eyes flickered to the splash of Naiads who retreaded under the rush of waves, the women’s tails snapping against the tension of the water, and letting it ripple against the tide. You turned your gaze to Luke, who’s never left yours. Your boyfriend had a tendency to stare, his mind would buzz and his head would tilt a little, but you couldn’t sustain contact for as long as he could, so you turned to your instrument.

The notes your fingers strum were pure and resonant and echoed through the stillness. Your fingers pulled across the strings with ease while you let a soft hum leave your lips, a whisper to the passing breeze.

You had a gift, distinguishable from your siblings. Children of Apollo had a tendency to lean towards the liberal arts, but you could manipulate sound like none of your siblings. The gift came after a rather uneventful evening in Olympus, Apollo was feeling bored and after your generous offerings he decided to grant you with the ability to hypnotise through your music. Your art tempted people, it made them forget their own names, it was a temporary trip from their troubles and had them craving your sound, fumbling under your voice.

Luke was not immune to your gifts and he adored them greatly. With you beside him he could appreciate his surroundings, the music pushing his stresses into the background.

“Can you sing?” He asked, his tone gentle. This was his request any time an instrument was in reach.

You smiled at his question, he still made you feel needed after years of people’s pleading. Your fingers smoothly eased between chords and began to play a song which plagued your mind, the lullaby which kept you at ease and proved your love is yours, all yours.

Moon a hole of light

Through the big top tent up high

Shinin’ down on me

The words rolled off your tongue with ease and were sent directly to Luke, slipping through his entire body. You fingers continued to toy with the strings and he continued to lean towards your presence, becoming completely in awe with you once again.

My baby, here on earth

Showed me what my heart was worth

So, when it comes to be my turn

He felt as if the words were crafted for him, each strum and pluck had him in mind, that the choreography of your fingers embraced him. It felt that way at least.

'Cause my love is mine, all mine

I love mine, mine, mine

Nothing in the world belongs to me

You lingered on the last note and then changed your grip and speed, confusing the brunette. Your hands trailed up the instrument then stopped looking over to him, setting the guitar beside you and nearing closer to him, resting your legs over his and pulling the instrument into your grip once more. You pushed the head in his direction which he graciously took then plucked at one of the strings, a painful sound from his flicking.

“Here.” You took his hand and settled it above the strings, his arm resting against the pure wood waiting for instruction. Your fingers climbed over his and delicately plucked at the string closest to him, pulling at it in a repeated manner. Once he grasped it you leant over to his other hand to linger between a few frets, the pattern continuous and difficult for his feeble fingers.

“Mhm, just like that,” you praised, your words lightening his view. He continued to pluck the strings and move his other hand, occasionally forgetting his next move which he picked up easily.

Once he became comfortable with the pattern he noticed your hands underneath his, playing a more complex tune. The two sounds - out of time - familiar to him.

You had shifted so you were practically in his lap and spoke “Ready?” To which he nodded, he would always be ready for you. You started, him following sourly after you, you slowed a little gaining motion with him.

“What is it?” He asked, his fingers messing up, his lips letting out a soft hum.

In your response you sung the chorus in time lowly.

I heard he lives down a river somewhere

With six cars and a grizzly bear

He's got eyes, but he can't see

Well he talks like an angel, but he looks like me

He smiled sweetly, still out of pace, but his dimples showed for your accomplished work. His soft curls fell over his gaze, obstructing him slightly, but he didn’t mind, he enjoyed the simple pleasures as your hands brushed against one another, his lips buzzing a soft sound.

I heard you sold the Amazon

To show the country that you're from

Is where the world should want to be

You both choked out verses and let your voice guide his. He was not a child of Apollo - his voice cracks were questionable - but it was sweet being amongst one another with no other priorities.

When Luke’s fingers became numb he relaxed into your side, his curls tickling your neck and soft breath hitting your skin. You continued to toy at the strings and drifted between a piece you’ve been working on and trying to memorise.

You were a ballad and he was dyslexic, your relationship was a constant blur.

✧༺༻∞ ✧༺༻∞ ✧༺༻∞

Tag-list

@prettyinsatiable @daisydark @creamsweets @auttumnsayshi @ashr0 @y0urm0m12 @2hiigh2cry @niktwazny303

#luke castellan #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan imagines #luke castellan x reader #pjo x you #pjo x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #riawrites

[wolfjackle-creates]

Bring Me Home, Chapter 2 Part 3

A little shorter this week. I had my graduation ceremony over the weekend and the opportunity to hang out with my sister-in-law for the first time in a few months! (She and my brother moved states a few months back.) If you scroll down a bit, you'll be able to see how I decorated my graduation cap! I love how it turned out.

But you don't care about that. It's Wednesday! Time for a WIP Wednesday segment!

Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.

First, Previous

Word Count: 1k

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Unable to get Tim’s attention, Conner asked, “Who’s Technus?”

Danny shrugged. “One of my rogues. Tuck thinks he’s the ghost of Nikolai Tesla. He’s interested in controlling all technology and will make himself a giant mechasuit cannibalized from any electronic he can find in, like, a half mile radius. Super annoying.”

Tim hummed. “You didn’t tell me about him being Nikolai Tesla.”

“It’s a new hypothesis of Tuck’s. He’s been trying to research all the ghosts that come through as part of our profiles on them. That involves trying to figure out who they might’ve been in life. We’re hoping it’ll help me deescalate confrontations to cut back on property damage. Thanks to my parents talking about how evil all ghosts are, no one trusts Phantom and I get blamed for everything.”

Tim reached out and squeezed Danny’s shoulder. Practically everything Danny ever said about his parents made him like them less. To change the subject before he learned something else that’d make him want to attack Jack and Maddie while they were under the same roof, he asked, “So why does ectoplasm harm electronics anyway?”

Danny seemed to lean into his touch. “Well, ectoplasm is complicated. It is generated in this dimension but doesn’t really belong here. It comes about through death and leads the way to the Ghost Zone. At least… that’s the hypothesis I think is the most likely. I’ve only really been studying it for a few months since my own accident, though.” He shook his head. “Anyway! When it interacts with things on Earth that aren’t trying to get to the Zone, things get weird. Especially with non-sentient things that can’t will the ectoplasm to act in a specific way. Even animals can exert some control over ectoplasm. But electronics can’t.”

It was only a few minutes more before Danny had completely disassembled the phone. He then grabbed another pipette and adjusted the volume and added ectoplasm to certain pieces. Then took a third size and did it all over again.

“How on earth did you find out how much to add?” asked Bart. “You’re changing quantities constantly.”

“Trial and error. Long and tedious trial and error. We tried dipping sections in the ectoplasm to start, but that generally fried the tech and mutated its function. Wires do do best with submersion, though. No more than a second or two for small ones. Even after we stopped submersion, we started by adding way too much—spreading it over the entire chip. But that also didn’t work. Realized just half a microliter applied to the connections was best. The camera, speaker, and microphone need more. Those get ten microliters apiece. And we just kept trying different amounts until we had something that worked. We ruined four phones before we started testing each component individually.”

Conner let out a low whistle. “Well we’re glad you have. Thanks for helping with this.”

“Of course. Anything for Tim.”

Tim’s face heated as Cassie laughed. “Yeah, our Tim has a way of winning people over, doesn’t he?”

“I think I won him over, actually.” Danny hung the pipette back up on the holder. “All right, now just to put this baby back together. Who’s hungry?”

“Me!” called Bart. “It’s been ages since we’ve last eaten.”

“You’ve got an accelerated metabolism, right? We’ll stop by a store and get some extra stuff if you need anything overnight or tomorrow.”

“I like you,” said Bart. “You should come with us when we leave. Join our team.”

Tim buried his face in his hands, did none of his teammates know the definition of subtlety? Offering Danny a place with the Teen Titans or Young Justice was the first thing he tried.

“Thanks for the offer, but as I’ve told Tim, I can’t leave Amity. No one else is capable of responding to ghost threats.”

Conner shook his head. “Looks like your parents have it under control.”

Danny laughed. “Oh hell no. They’ve got a lot of inventions and most of them do something. But it’s not always what they expect them to do. And dad’s aim is terrible.” As he spoke, he continued to reassemble Tim’s phone.

Tim couldn’t help but admire how expertly Danny’s fingers moved over the pieces. And before he knew it, Danny was handing the phone back to him.

“Should work now. Turn it on and double check.”

Tim took it and held the power button until the WE logo appeared. Sure enough, once the screen loaded, so did a dozen missed phone calls and even more missed texts.

Bruce, Dick, and Barbara had all attempted contact multiple times. Even Alfred had called once. He winced and immediately called Bruce back.

“Hey, B,” he said as soon as the call connected. “We’re all fine. Just crossed an area that messed with our tech.”

“How did it mess with your tech?” Bruce demanded.

“It’s normal in this area. But I’ve a local friend and he fixed my phone. He’ll take care of Conner’s, Cassie’s, and Bart’s after we grab some dinner. So if anyone else is worried, tell them we’re fine and they can call me in the meantime if they have questions.” Tim made sure to use civilian names so Bruce would know they were no longer in costume.

“Who is this ‘friend’?” asked Bruce.

“God, B, it’s fine. I’ve known him for years. We game online together when we can. Have since we were kids.”

“Hn.” Why was it so much harder to read Bruce over the phone than in person? It was so annoying. “I see. Where are you currently?”

“We’re in Illinois. Will probably stay here a day or two with Danny and his parents. And then we’ll come home and share everything about our trip.” Aka, submit an official report about the outcome of their mission.

“Very well. I expect to know all the details. And I want twice daily check-ins until you’re home.”

“Fine, fine. Will do. Bye, B.” Before Bruce could demand anything else, Tim hung up on him. Next he shot texts to Dick, Alfred, and Barbara assuring them he was fine and his phone was working again. Replies came instantly and he ignored them all. “All right, that’s done. Let’s go eat.”

---------

Next

I think this is the first time I've had an actual scene break to stop the segment at. I usually just go until I see a change in the conversation, but I've got my <hr> marker at this point and there's gonna be a scene change! (So I won't have to repeat a paragraph or two next time I post.)

You get a different explanation for ectoplasm in this fic! Wasn't planning on that, but it happened and I like it.

Hope you enjoyed.

Tag List Part 1

@gremlin-bot, @bonebrokebuddy, @britcision, @lady-time-lord-, @welcometosasakiworld, @akikkobara, @phoenixdemonqueen, @dolfay, @skulld3mort-1fan, @we-ezer, @markus209, @sjrose1216, @onyxlightdragon, @dragonsrequiem, @jesus-camp-the-sequel, @spidey29phangirl, @kyrianclawraith, @evilminji, @introvert-even-on-the-internet, @emergentpanda-blog, @lexdamo, @v-inari, @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit, @longlivethefallen, @undead-essence, @xye-chan, @liandrin, @seraphinedemort, @kisatamao, @schalensitzbucket, @caelestisdreamer, @runfromthemedic, @nutcase8691, @channajen, @tonicmii, @ambiguouslyominous, @vythika96, @addie-lover-of-stories, @ironicvixen, @violetfox2, @pickleking8, @mysticalcomputerdetective, @ark12, @mygood-bitch99, @squirrel-wolf, @satisfactionbroughtmeback, @sometimesthingsfallapart, @automaticsoulharmony, @d4ydr34min9, @revnantdpxdclover, @midigeria, @raginblastocyst

#dpxdc #tim drake #danny fenton #conner kent #cassie sandsmark #bart allen #dead tired #bart made attempt 1 to kidnap danny #it was super ineffective #tim is embarrassed

[dancingtotuyo]

Build You the World

Joel Miller X Reader

Rating: PG-13 (Language)

Warnings: fluffiness, just fluff

Summary: Joel was stupid. Saying sorry the only way he knows how, Joel built you something.

Pre- Outbreak/ No outbreak because I want them to live a happy undisturbed life together.

Notes: We take a break from our regularly scheduled Narcos/Javier Peña content to give you this teeth rotting fluff piece about Joel Miller. Cross posted on AO3

Words: 1286

Series Master List | Author Master list

Joel sucked in a breath. Supplies scattered on the floor around him. The industrial fan blew the hot Texas air into his hotter garage. Sarah rode her bike around the driveway, purple fairy wings strapped to her back. She chatted on and on, no doubt caught up in a make believe land. He needed to take the training wheels off her bike. Maybe tomorrow he would have time.

Joel’s gaze drifted back over the supplies he’d bought at the hardware store this morning. Sarah had asked what he was making as her little legs struggled to keep up with his long strides. She’d noticed the unusual components he gathered. These weren’t for a job or the back porch he’d been working on all summer.

“Secret project” he’d winked at her and thankfully, she’d accepted it.

He hadn’t been able to sleep last night. He’d handled the whole situation badly. It was 2 am before Joel gave up the tireless pursuit of sleep and drawn up the plans. He currently wondered if he’d bitten off more than he could chew. He was a contractor. He did big projects like framing houses and decks. His fine carpentry skills left a lot to be desired.

Joel pushed those thoughts from his head. He could do this. He wanted to do this.

One lunch break, two first aid breaks, (a splinter in his thumb and a skinned knee for Sarah) and a nap (Sarah’s) later, Joel had all the pieces shaped and sanded. He couldn’t help but admire his handy work. Sure it was a simple design and yeah, it wasn’t assembled yet, but he’d made this. He just prayed it all fit.

Sarah colored at his workbench. She’d woken up not long ago and was still quiet from her nap. “Daddy, what are you making?”

“Top secret, baby girl.” He winked at her, pulling the wood glue and clamps from the cabinet.

She sighed in exasperation turning back to her coloring book. Joel hummed along to the classic rock station. His tshirt clung to his body wet with sweat. At 5:30, the temperature was just beginning its slow descent. He started to assemble to the first side, praying he’d made all the slots the correct size. That had been the most tedious part, ensuring it would all lock together properly.

“Daddy, I’m hungry. Are we going to have dinner soon?”

“Soon, I want to get this first side put together first.”

Sarah sighed, her hair floating up and then falling back over her eyes. Joel chuckled, kissing her forehead. “Why don’t you go grab a cheese stick to tide you over?”

“Okay.” She slid off the stool, running inside.

It slid together with relative ease. Only a few profanities dropped from his mouth when he dropped something or spilled the glue everywhere.

He was jerryrigging the clamps when Sarah squealed, darting out of the garage. He glanced up, just able to make out the blue sedan that pulled in behind his pickup. Your blue sedan.

Nerves coursed through him. He reached for his beer. It was warm and flat now, barely touched. Sharp power tools and alcohol don’t mix well. He ignored the taste, taking another gulp. After last night, fear and shame filled him.

Sarah held your hand, talking a mile a minute as if you didn’t kiss her Goodnight last night. You laughed at something she said, but he heard the way it doesn’t quite reach. The first thing he noticed were the dark bags under your eyes and the red rings around them. Guilt flooded him. You need sleep more than ever right now. He felt the exhaustion radiating off of you.

You attempted to make yourself more presentable before gathering the courage to come over. The shower helped, your hair still damp and curling. The mascara kept running so you left it.

 You round the corner with Sarah. Joel can hardly look at you. To be fair, you don’t really want to look at him either. You don’t want a repeat of last night but you can’t ignore the situation at hand either.

You finally call up the courage to look at him. You’d grown proud of yourself for learning the ins and outs of Joel Miller in the two years you’d known him. You could read him like the bedtime stories you read to Sarah, silly voices and all, but right now the pages of him blurred. Maybe that was just the tears you fought back.

“Sarah, do you want to grab your fairy wings to show-“

“Yes!” Sarah didn’t allow her father to finish. She was gone through the door in a flash of dark curls.

“She’s been excited to show you. Can’t believe she wasn’t wearin’ ‘em.” His Texas drawl popped out sending shivers down your spine. He forced a smile.

You wanted to return it, but other things pressed your mind. You weren’t good at diversion.

“Joel.” Your lip quivered and you hated yourself for it. You felt out of control right now.

He sighed. “Come here.” He cocked his head back stepping further into the garage.

The fan pushed air through your hair and skirt granting mellow relief to the heat.

 “I’ve been working on this.” He swallowed presenting his scattered workspace. He read all nerves but there was the briefest sense of pride too.

Pieces of carefully shaped and sanded wood laid about in piles. You caught sight of what he’d put together. “Porch railing?”

You failed to see the connection. Not to mention it looked too tall and narrow to be for the back deck. And what was with the arch? Was he trying to build a trellis? He’d been talking about putting in some raised beds for you and Sarah.

Was this some kind of joke? An “I’m sorry?” It hardly accounted for one.

“No, it’s a-“ he sighed, running a hand through his curls. He needed a haircut. You had planned to take the clippers to it last night until things went awry.

He picked his notebook up off the work bench. The leather bound one you got him for Christmas. You were convinced he didn’t use it. It sat on his nightstand and you were sure if you’d picked it up, you would see a dust outline. He handed it to you.

You could tell he hadn’t used it much but that didn’t really matter. Your breath caught, all else forgotten the moment your eyes landed on the page. It was rough, dotted with measurements and notes, but it was clear as day all the same.

Tears built up for a whole new reason.

“I stayed up all night working through the design. It's nothing extravagant, but it’ll be sturdy… and safe.” He stuttered.

You traced the design with your finger. All the doubts from the past 24 hours, gone just like that. “You designed a crib?”

“It’s cherry wood. I know that’s your favorite.”

“You designed a crib for our baby?” You stepped into his bubble. You couldn’t believe it. Of everything you anticipated tonight, this was not on the list.

“Baby, I’m so sorry for last night. I was a jackass-“

“Joel Miller, Shut up! You’re building this?”

You looked at him like he hung the fucking galaxy, and his heart settled. He knew the two of you would be okay.

 “Yes.”

 You kissed him, arms thrown over his shoulders, tears streaming down your face as the nightmare turned  into a dream.

You would hear his apology out in full later, lord knows you deserved it after last night, but right now, you just wanted to celebrate. Celebrate him, your love, and the little bundle of joy to join the three of you in 7 short months.

#joel miller #the last of us #fanfiction #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #fluff

[blueskittlesart]

Question abt drawing: been trying to attempt learning how to draw forever but I always have trouble getting over the obstacle of having to learn/study things like anatomy and shading, which then causes me to stop drawing and have a harder time picking it back up. I know it's important for improving your art and yourself as an artist but I can't help but see it as tedious and overwhelming, especially the anatomy since it's more on the science side of things and science is not my thing lol. Do you have any advice on how to get over it or work thru it?

i think there's a couple facets to this question. firstly i'd recommend you consider what exactly your end goal is in learning how to draw: do you specifically want to be able to produce anatomically accurate figures and true-to-life shading, or do you just want to be able to make something for fun that looks good to you? one of the most helpful things I ever learned at art school was that accuracy doesn't matter if it looks good. 99% of my art isn't strictly anatomically accurate, and part of that is stylization, but even when i'm doing realistic figure drawings i like to lengthen limbs and exaggerate curves in order to make my drawings look better. So if your only real goal with art is to make something that looks good and enjoy the process, my first piece of advice would be to stop worrying so much about stuff like perfect accuracy! if you use references and keep pushing yourself, the skill and understanding you're looking for will come naturally with time. before I was ever classically trained, I got pretty far just by drawing my favorite characters in different poses and situations over and over again, and that experience laid the groundwork for when classical training did become available to me. Just because you're not necessarily doing serious figure studies doesn't mean you're not getting valuable practice--what it means is that you're having FUN while you're practicing, and having fun with your art is the most important thing!!!

Secondly, you mentioned anatomy being on the science side of things, which suggests to me that you may be looking in the wrong places when trying to do more serious anatomical study. if you look up 'anatomy' or anything similar on a web search engine, you're likely going to get a lot of very complex scientific illustrations. and while those aren't necessarily devoid of artistic value (I took a class all about scientific anatomy for artists last semester and it was GREAT) for a beginner who's just trying to learn how to make a body look like a body, they're not what you're looking for. what is going to be much more helpful for you are sites like line of action or quickposes. these sites are basically repositories of figure drawing images, and you can set them to automatically switch to a new image after a certain interval of time. if you really, desperately want to improve your anatomy specifically, what I recommend is going to one of these sites, setting it to the shortest interval possible, and trying to copy the pose as closely as you can before time is up. this might sound crazy, since the shortest interval is usually somewhere between 30-60 seconds, which obviously isn't enough to get much down. but what this will do is force you to look at how these models' bodies are constructed and translate it onto the page quickly and without overthinking it. be warned, your first maybe hundred of these are going to look like shit. but if you do this enough, you're eventually going to gain an intrinsic sense for 1. how a body works and 2. the easiest way for you personally to construct a body when drawing it. even without knowing the scientific names and anatomical rules, you're going to get a FEEL for how things work, which is much more important and useful to you as a character artist.

Finally, i think the most important thing to remember is that no art is bad art, even if you're not satisfied with the end product. when you're first starting out as an artist, you're going to make things that don't look right and you're going to be frustrated with yourself because of it. i vividly remember crying over a sketchbook at maybe age 11 or 12 because I was so upset i couldn't put exactly what was in my head on the page. Skill comes with time and practice and that is a frustrating fact of life, but no time spent doing something you enjoy and are passionate about is wasted. It might look bad now but you are laying the groundwork for your future success, and someday you're probably going to look back on your past work and say "I can't believe I thought this looked bad back then. for my age and my skill level i was doing AMAZING." And as previously mentioned, it's a lot less discouraging when something looks bad if you had fun making it, so try to have FUN with your art. draw things you enjoy and are passionate about and don't worry if it looks bad. focus on the experience, the skill will come in time. you've got this!!

#i've had this account since i was 15 years old. you can literally go back and see my ass did NOT know what i was doing #but i was having fun and the weird stuff that i was trying that maybe didn't always look right was what laid the groundwork #for my current skills! #i know this advice is basically just 'practice' which is what everyone says but it's important to me that you know #that practice should be FUN too. practice isn't drawing boring shit over and over again before you get to draw the fun stuff #practice is drawing the fun stuff that is maybe a little out of your comfort zone and maybe it looks a little wonky but you did it #and you had fun doing it! and now you'll be a little more prepared to do it again in the future! #asks

[everythingdenied]

breaking the bed in-matty healy

a/n: hi bb's <3 it's been a while, huh? but i'm back on my bullshit & after like eight years of deliberating what to write...i present to you: sub!matty. i wrote most of this half asleep and i haven't proofread it yet but i'm desperate to post so here you all go hehe ;) also, i can't thank @eaglestar31 enough for all the help and inspo w this (including this beautiful fucking picture.) everyone go say thank you evie!!!

warnings: pure filth, fem!reader, mentions of light restrains/being tied up etc wc: 2403

When he and I had shared our first kiss in a dingy Soho bar, drunk on cheap lager and lust, I'd hardly imagined that, one day, we'd find ourselves here, moving in together.

Sat cross legged in our apartment, hearts full and rooms bare, it felt strange to be able to say that, finally, we were settling down. It was only a small flat, a little one bedroom tucked away on the outskirts of Bethnal Green, but I didn't mind one bit. I'd have been content living in an old wheelie bin, as long as it was our wheelie bin to share. I didn't even care that the place was a mess, cardboard boxes littering every room, or that Matty had somehow already managed to make the air heavy with the smell of his cigarettes; I was floating on a high, one that even the tedious building of flat pack furniture couldn't spoil. No matter how much Matty whined about it. 

Padding into our bedroom with my hands curled around a lukewarm cup of coffee, my lips curved into an affectionate smile at the sight before me. Matty was sat cross legged on the floor, brows knitted together in concentration as he desperately tried to screw our new bed-frame together. He'd been at it all afternoon, vehemently insistent that building a bed was light work for him. However, as the hours passed, it had become increasingly obvious that DIY wasn't exactly his strong suit, despite the manly facade he'd initially put on. Albeit, I couldn't complain; watching him hard at work with his sweatpants hanging low on his waist and sweat sheathing his brow had been the highlight of moving day.

"How's it comin' along?" I teased playfully, gingerly leaning against the doorframe as I watched Matty attempt to jam an ill-fitting screw into the bed post, his muscles flexing in his tight black tank top.

Huffing, he let out a frustrated whimper as the screw fell from his hand, hitting the floor with a loud clank.

"Shit..." he cursed, glancing up at me through his wild mop of curls as he scrabbled around for the instructions. "I don't think i'm cut out for this DIY shit. Maybe we should, like, call Ross or summat. He'll be good at this stuff..."

"Aw, poor baby" I chuckled warmly, carefully setting my mug down. "You want some help?"

Matty glanced between me and the jumbled mess of screws and ambiguous metal parts littering the floor, wondering whether to admit defeat, before tentatively nodding his head. "Please..." he mumbled, sounding somewhat deflated. "Can't fuckin' figure this out."

More than happy to oblige, I plopped down atop Matty's lap, his warm hands instantly finding their place on my waist as I reached out for the flimsy manual. He nuzzled into my neck, his unruly curls tickling lightly against my skin as his breath fanned my cheek. I giggled at the sensation, desperately trying not to let my mind wander as I skim read the instructions. Matty, on the other hand, seemed to have already let his fall deep into the gutter, his lips meeting my jawline as he mewled softly.

"You're so gorgeous..." He hummed against my skin, hands snaking beneath the hem of my old t-shirt. "Can't believe I get to share a bed with you for the rest of my life."

Smirking, I cupped the soft curvature of his jaw. "That is if we ever get it built" I quipped teasingly, leaning into his touch momentarily before pulling away. “C’mon…I think I’ve figured out where this piece goes.” 

Matty whimpered lowly, his head falling limp against my shoulder. “Mph, can’t we take a break? Been at this for hours now” 

I rolled my eyes playfully, relishing in the mere thought of denying him what he so desperately yearned for. It was always so easy for me to get him worked up, the most simple act of sitting on his lap rendering him restless and needy, already hardening beneath the confines of his sweatpants.

“I thought you wanted my help?” I turned my head to face him, a teasing smirk tugging on the corner of my lips as I shifted atop his lap, hearing the shaky draw of his breath as my ass brushed over his growing bulge. I reached forward to grab the screwdriver tossed haphazardly onto the floor, feeling his gaze fix on my butt, clad only in a pair of tight shorts.

"Angel..." Matty practically whined, fidgeting uncomfortably beneath me. "Play fair."

"Hmm?" I feigned innocence, biting back the sadistic laughter bubbling in my throat as I watched his eyes glaze over with desire, knowing I had no intention of giving in anytime soon. "I'm not doin' anything."

Matty frowned, listlessly accepting the screwdriver I held out to him. He mumbled something unintelligible under his shaky breath, grumbling like a petulant child as I denied him once more, moving his wandering hands away from the waistband of my shorts.

"What was that, baby?" I hummed lowly, adjusting my position until I was straddling Matty. "C'mon. What did you say?"

"S'not nice to tease..."

"And it's not nice to act like a needy little brat either but...here we both are."

Matty pouted, his tongue darting over his bottom lip as he I cupped his chin in my hands, his usually bright eyes blown wide as he blinked up at me, the golden afternoon sun speckling his face.

"Please, baby..." He choked out. "Can't just get me all worked up like this and do nothing."

I tittered, letting my hands travel to the bag of his neck, grabbing lightly at a handful of his curls.

"Oh, my poor needy boy" I mocked, my honey sweet tone the perfect antitheses to Matty's pained whimper. "Need me to get you off so bad, don't you?" He nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing as he gulped harshly, greedy hands fumbling for any part of my skin he could reach. "Well, you're gonna have to wait, baby. Can't have it yet."

"Angel...please." He breathed out, desperately bucking his crotch up against me.

"Nuh uh, don't be so pathetic. Gotta build this bed first, yeah? Then maybe you'll get your reward..."

Finally realising, much to his chagrin, that no amount of whining or pleading would lead to him getting his way, Matty gave in, distractedly attempting to finish up the flat pack bed he'd been working on all day. His movements were hasty and haphazard and, buzzing with sexual tension, he often found himself screwing wrong ends together, unable to keep himself focused on the task in hand when I was sat only inches away, arse pressed against his throbbing hard on. However, after what felt like hours for both Matty and I, he managed to screw the last end of the bedpost together, looking as if he was about to burst with anticipation as he hurriedly dragged our new mattress onto the bed frame.

His eyes flitted between me and the bed as he carefully sat himself down on the very edge, breath catching his throat as I moved to straddle his waist once more, fingers trailing his biceps.

"Good job, baby" I cooed sweetly, fingers teasing the waist band of his sweats. My core dripped at the very prospect of what I was about to do. "Did so well for me. My big strong boy. Think you deserve your reward now, yeah?"

Matty nodded frantically, eyes wide and lips parted slightly. "P-please, baby. Been so good."

"Mhm, you have" I agreed, shimmying his pants down slightly so that his cock finally sprung free, its tip an angry rouge. Smiling, I placed my hand on his chest, pushing him back lightly. "Lie back for me, sweet boy."

Eager to do what he was told, Matty lay back against the mattress, gasping as my thumb trailed down the base of his cock, collecting some of his dripping pre-cum.

"God, look how fuckin' desperate you already are, baby. Been wanting to break the bed in all day, hmm?" I held my thumb to his pink lips. "Wanna taste how fuckin' needy you are?" Matty nodded once more, taking my thumb in his mouth without question as he licked it clean off his own arousal, whimpering as I continued to grind my hips against him. "Good boy."

His jaw slackened and my thumb fell from his lips as I leaned down to kiss him softly, the usually loving gesture oozing with sex. Pulling apart, I moved from the bed, tiptoeing across the room to reach into one of the cardboard boxes Matty and I had lugged into our apartment earlier this morning.

"Baby...w-what?" Matty whimpered from his position on the bed, craning his neck to look for what could have possibly taken my attention away from him.

"Shh, s'okay, baby. One sec." I crooned, finally finding what I'd been looking for under a heap of Matty's clothes stuffed into a box. I pulled the thin black neck tie from the box, a satisfied smile on my lips as I clambered back atop Matty, watching his plump lips form a knowing 'O' shape. "Gonna let me tie you up, pretty boy?"

He was more than happy to agree, gazing up at me in awe as I took ahold of his slender wrists, delicately looping the satin tie around them until it was just tight enough to restrain his hands behind his head. "Feel okay?" I asked, sitting back to admire him as he lay sprawled out on our new bed, his sweatpants pooling around his knees. I relished in how vulnerable he looked like this, his skin beaded with sweat and his hair tousled as he nodded his head submissively, desperate for my touch. "Good. Look so pretty like this. All tied up for me."

I hummed to myself, fingers brushing over his throbbing cock once more before I wrapped my hand around it, languidly pumping him a few times as he writhed beneath me.

"Angel, f-fuck, please. N-need to be in you."

"I know, baby, I know. Do anything for this cunt, wouldn't you?" I teased, keeping my pace painfully slow as I moved my hand up and down his length as his hazy brown eyes bore into me, wordlessly begging for more as he lay helpless beneath me. I could tell he longed for nothing more than to touch me and, whilst I adored the feeling of having his hands roam my body, I couldn't help but relish in seeing him completely at my mercy. "Want me to use you, love? Get myself off on your cock?

"S-shit...please. Use me, b-baby. Do anything. Just...fuck...need you" Matty pleaded breathlessly ,bucking his hips into my hand as I felt his release, already on the brink of undo after an hours worth of teasing. I carefully pulled my hand away, watching his wrists strain against his makeshift restrains as I moved to slip off my shorts, tossing them onto the floor along with the lace panties he'd bought me months ago.

Adjusting my position, I lowered myself down onto Matty's length, feeling him fill me up completely. He let out a choked whimpered, practically on the verge of tears by the time I eventually began to rock my hips. I started off slow, moving almost rhythmically along with the cacophony of choked moans and whines I'd elicited from his lips. However, with each pleading whimper, I found it hard to tease, so intent on my own release that I started to bounce on his cock, hands splayed out on his chest as I chased my own high, fucking myself on him.

"Fuck...doing so good for me, sweet boy. Feel good?"

He said nothing, only whimpering as he rolled his hips into mine. However, he needn't say a word anyhow; watching his eyes roll back into his head as he panted messily beneath me said more than any amount of praise could.

Soon enough, I could feel myself tightening around him, pleasure clouding my mind as I rode him, knowing he wouldn't be far behind from me. As if on cue, Matty bucked his hips sharply into me, his back arching off the soft mattress. "F-fuck, angel. Please...f-faster. Don't stop...think i'm gonna...fuck" He breathed out, a slew of incoherent curses leaving his parted lips as I sank down onto his hard cock once more, feeling it twitch inside my warmth. "You gonna cum, baby? S'that what you're tryna say" I mocked his unfinished words teasingly, thumbs digging into his waist as I rode him, the filthy sound of skin slapping together echoing around the almost completely bare room. "M'not far off. Hold it in for me till I cum, yeah? Think you can...think you can do that for me, pretty boy?"

Matty nodded tentatively, seemingly unsure of his own ability to hold off but willing to try for me as I sped up my movement, seconds away from release.

"That's my good boy."

Soon enough, I felt myself start to come undone around him, my nails digging harshly into his skin soft as I drew out my high, leaving little red nail marks peppered along his waist. I let out a prolonged moan, barely slowing as I encouraged Matty to let go with me, lidded eyes watching as the love of my life writhed in pleasure beneath me, marked and tied; all mine.

"C'mon, baby. Cum for me, yeah? Doing so good" I praised him breathlessly, watching him desperately roll his hips into me, whimpering loudly until he finally let go, his back falling against the mattress as he finally came, his cum dripping out of my sensitive pussy and down the base of his red-raw length.

"F-fuck...b-baby. Thank you....thank you" He panted heavily, chest rising and falling as he remained deep inside of me, hands still bound together with one of his favourite ties as he blinked up at me through bleary eyes, our heads swimming with pleasure.

His sensitive body jolted as, after taking a few moments to recover, I slowly lifted myself off of him, making sure to be as delicate as possible as I heard him whimper at the loss of contact. Shuffling beside him, I reached out for his wrists, leaning down to kiss him as my fingers shakily worked to remove his restrains.

"Gonna take these off now, yeah, sweet boy? Think we've broken the bed in enough for today...."

#matty healy fanfic #matty healy x reader #matty healy

[pinkroseblooms]

Birthday Wishes

Summary: Uramichi may not like birthdays, but he might like you. 2.5k A/N: Official art from Gaku Kaze; Uramichi Omota/F!Reader, lots of fluff and some humor. TW: Mentions of depression and self esteem issues (kinda a given considering it's Uramichi, but still) Enjoy!

Working on Together with Maman was one of the most thankless, tedious jobs you’ve ever been underpaid to do. While the director got to lord over the staff and the actors got some praise and respect, you were just one of the many unsung heroes behind the scenes. Editing out Uramichi Omota’s regular mental breakdowns and existential crises from the show’s footage was a full time job in and of itself, but you did it every week without fail for the past three years. At this point you could practically do it in your sleep; sometimes Uramichi’s strained, desperate attempts to keep a cheerful expression on his face made regular appearances in your dreams. You suspected the void that was his stare would haunt your mind long after the time came for you to leave Together with Maman .

You did feel a bit guilty at the twinge of resentment you had toward the cast when they got the lion’s share of the glory. After all, they all had their good points: to start, Kumitani was fairly considerate of the staff, particularly those on the lowest rungs of the workplace hierarchy. Speaking of hidden kindness, despite Utano’s complaints, she was a devoted and thoughtful girlfriend. Iketeru’s childish wonder and joy was infectious; he hardly ever complained and was very appreciative. Even Usahara with his bad habit of putting his foot in his mouth, was still committed to a certain level of professionalism and was quick to amend for his mistakes. When everything was said and done, you had a fondness for them all.

Last but not least, there was Uramichi. One works with many different types in the entertainment industry and you were no stranger to washed up, jaded, regularly drinking their weight in booze performers putting on a show off and on camera but Uramichi was the worst.

Needless to say, you were crazy about the man.

Today was Uramichi’s 32nd birthday and though he no doubt would prefer to ignore such a day all together, you couldn’t help yourself. This was the perfect time to do something to show your appreciation for Uramichi and not just as a gymnast oniisan. With any luck, he might not hate it. In fact, you were certain he was going to love what you chose to do.

After making up an excuse to get his attention, Uramichi dutifully trailed after you, grim faced and changed out of his costume. You intercepted him just as Usahara and a somewhat less enthusiastic Kumatani were going to usher their colleague to a bar for a night of begrudging celebration. As unlikely as it was that Uramichi would rather spend any evening doing more work, you thought he seemed a bit relieved to be taken away. 

“Sorry, this won’t take long.”

“It’s fine.” Uramichi assured you in the most unconvincing attempt you ever heard. “Your job is editing, right? What do you need me for?”

“I wanted to get your approval on a few things. I wanted to work in some parts of what you were saying to the kids before.”

“From the segment about labeling?” 

That particular sketch was meant to teach the children about putting their names on their school things. Doing this would help them keep track of their positions, as well as teach them about personal responsibility. It could even be a good chance to allow children to practice their spelling and penmanship. It all went about as well as it could have.

“The bit where you warned the children about adhering to the labels others will try to assign to you and how the pressures of society are designed to slowly crush any trace of individuality that doesn’t help them go with the flow was a bit long winded, but I think we can keep in bits and pieces.”

“You…want to keep it in?”

“I mean, it’s not a bad message.” You type in the passcode to the staff room. “The script is good, but you have a way of talking to kids so they can understand without talking down to them. Not everyone learns at the same pace; it helps when adults can get on a kid’s level. Most are too proud.”

“You,” Uramichi followed you into the room. “Are you saying I lack pride as an adult?”

“What? No.”

As you pull out a seat for Uramichi to use, his face says he doesn’t believe you. Seeing how despondent he is makes you want to call the whole thing off, but then you would have to come up with an excuse as to why you requested his presence in the first place. 

Anyone would be justified in feeling insulted at Uramichi’s knee jerk reaction to assume the worst; it’s hardly charming, but you get it. How much of Uramichi’s attitude is natural or something he uses like a shield is anyone’s guess. 

“I guess it makes sense. It’s not like we know each other that well. Besides, this is our first time speaking one on one and I had to lie to you.” 

Uramichi was glancing around the room; there wasn’t any projector or cameras or a computer. 

“Wait, so you don’t think I have any pride?”

“Hey, are you even listening to me?” You stare in disbelief. “I meant about looking over the footage. Hold on, I need to-”

“So then…was all that other stuff you said just to get me to come here?”

“No, it wasn’t. I’ve already got someone editing that segment anyway.” 

In the corner is an easel, like one of the props they use for presentations in the show. Instead of a whiteboard or a display of cartoon images, there’s a sheet covering up the project you’ve been working on just for today. 

“That’s good.”

“Huh?”

“I thought you were going to lecture me about being more professional so you didn’t have such a heavy workload. I’m sure most of your time is taken up erasing the evidence of my family unfriendly fits of despair. My bad.”

“Even hearing you apologize is bumming me out.” You sigh. “Listen, it’s not that much trouble. Besides, it’s really not my place to scold you or the other cast members.”

“Why not? You have to make up for our screw ups. Don’t tell me it can’t be stressful. You look tired just being here.”

“That’s not really something you should say to a woman. Well, anyone really.”

The blank stare widens as Uramichi realizes what he implied, but you cut him off. Things have gotten awkward enough without dragging on this conversation. Besides, you brought him here to cheer him up, if that’s even possible.

“I hope you like this. I made it for your birthday. Well, I put it together. The kids made it.”

You unveil the display with a smile, hoping you had this right and Uramichi wasn’t going to walk out. Or worse, put on his fake smile to spare your feelings. You prefer an honest reaction to your efforts.

“These are all the drawings kids have sent in for the past year. I got the idea to save them up and make a collage.”

The board is covered in crayon doodles, rough sketches, and messy paintings. There’s some postcards and pages ripped from coloring books. Almost all of them are of Uramichi-oniisan in various costumes, mainly his tracksuit: in some he’s frolicking with Kumao-kun or Usao-kun or holding hands with Utano and Iketeru. Some illustrations are of Uramichi surrounded by children or animals or just random scribbles. There’s also a decent amount featuring Kotori-san but you try not to think about that too hard. 

“I thought maybe we could show the board in a show, but I wanted you to see it first. We could keep it safe in the studio, if you don’t have room for it in your place. It’s your birthday present.” 

Uramichi stands up to get a closer look; he doesn’t look appalled and you choose to take this as a good sign. You step to the side, trying not to seem too nervous when he stands by your side; after a minute, Uramichi still hasn’t said anything. Even so, you’re feeling more worried by the second.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. Good.” You smile, but don’t feel too relieved. “You’re not just saying that, right? It’s okay, you can be honest. Is it too cheesy? Maybe I should have left out the ones with Kotori-san.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I hate that demon, but the kid’s probably worked hard to draw it. I don't mind so much. You said this took a year?”

“More or less. Uramichi, whatever you think, you’re appreciated. The kids see you do your best. It’s more than a lot of people bother to do. I figured you wouldn’t want a staff party, but everyone here sees it too. We’re glad to have you as our gymnast oniisan.”

Uramichi was still looking over the pictures. “You work a lot harder than I do.”

“I wouldn’t say that. Our jobs are just different.”

“But no one gives the behind the scenes crew much credit. I’ve never been especially considerate to your job before, but you spent a year making me a present?”

“I only collected the drawings. It only took a couple hours to actually put it together.” You replied. “Is this too much?”

“Yeah. I don’t deserve this.” Uramichi told you bluntly. “I don’t get it. Why did you do this?”

For a long time now, you’ve watched Uramichi drag himself through the day; as much as he professes going through the motions, you know that’s not exactly true. 

“The thing is, I wish I could do more. I want you to have a nice birthday.”

“I don’t like celebrating my birthday. It just reminds me that I’m a year older and I’ve wasted more time. Which is strange, since I don’t even know why I feel that way. I can’t even imagine what else I would be doing if I wasn’t an oniisan, so why do I feel like I’m wasting time at all? I can’t do this forever. I’m already 32, but I don’t have anything planned for when I get too old for Together with Maman. ’’

“You could probably still find work on another show. It doesn’t have to be physical. Unless you want to leave the industry for something else entirely. I bet you could do something with your physical education degree; you’ve had experience with children, then maybe you could work that into whatever you go for next.” 

“That…sounds like a lot to think about.”

You can’t help laughing a little at how defeated Uramichi looks just from the prospect of having to start over. It’s oddly cute, like a sad puppy being told they have to go to the vet.

“It is, but if you do it one step at a time, it won’t be so daunting. That’s why I like birthdays: I see them as a chance to, well,” You scratch your head. “It’s like, yes, I made it another year! It wasn’t easy, but I’m here and that’s enough. It’s something to celebrate.”

“Hey, you should be more careful with how you phrase things.”

“What did I say wrong?”

“You’re going to make me think you have feelings for me or something.” Uramichi chuckles dryly, turning his back on you to head toward the door. “If I was Usahara, I would take this as a proposal. But anyway, thanks. I can’t remember when someone tried so hard. I guess I should return the favor. I’m being emotionally blackmailed into going out tonight: if you want, you can join. Or not. Do you drink?”

“Yes, to both.”

“Both?”

“I wanted to tell you this now, before I start taking classes full time next month. Uramichi, I like you. I do, so,” You clear your throat. “Happy birthday. I hope you’ll still accept the poster. It’s more from the kids than me anyhow. I was going to bake you something, but I wasn’t even sure if you liked cake or-”

“You talk a lot. Hold on, I need a minute.”

Uramichi has his head in his hands; he looks pale and visibly disturbed. It seems like your confession wasn’t appreciated, but you could have guessed as much. Maybe you’re too different or maybe Uramichi just isn’t interested in dating.

You can respect that, no matter how much it hurts you. In hindsight, it would have been better to keep quiet or just wait until your time was done at the studio, but you naively assumed Uramichi might like hearing someone cared. Not everything comes with conditions or ulterior motives; sometimes the pay off is as straightforward as making someone else’s day a little easier to get through. 

“I’m sorry. I should go.” You make your way past him to the door. “I hope you enjoy your night!”

“Wa-wait don’t just leave! You can’t drop a bomb like that and just breeze past like-like-!” Uramichi stumbles to get to you before you rush outside. “You’re serious? Did Usahara put you up to this?”

“No.”

“Well, are you, like, sure? You didn’t mistake me for someone else?”

“You’re Uramichi Omota?”

“Yeah.”

“If this makes you uncomfortable, you really don’t have to worry, I never said anything to anyone else.”

“It’s not that. I’m just…processing. Do you really?”

“You know, maybe the next segment we do should be on active listening skills.” You cross your arms. “Uramichi, this isn’t rocket science. If you’re not interested, okay. I’ll live. I don’t mind being single, but I wouldn’t be bothering you with this if I wasn’t serious.”

Uramichi seems calmer, but no less baffled; it’s probably the most emotion you’ve ever seen him emote at once that wasn’t irritation or exhaustion. Surely he has had other girls confess to him before; you heard he was pretty popular in school. You don’t see why he’s having a hard time handling this one. 

“When I was drunk, I said I thought you were cute. I wouldn’t put it past that damn bunny to try to rope you into one of his pranks.”

You grin. “You did? When?”

“Come on, I’m embarrassed enough. I’m too old for this.”

“For what?”

“To act this way.” Uramichi sighs and drags a hand over his face. “I hate it. It’s like I’m back in high school or something. It’s awkward and I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Don’t you already feel that way?”

“That doesn’t help.”

“So then?” You shrug your shoulders. “Am I cute enough to date?”

To your surprise, Uramichi’s cheeks flush slightly; you wonder if your own nervousness is showing. Truly, adults pretend as much as kids do. 

“Is that offer for a drink still valid? Unless you don’t want me flirting with you in front of everyone.”

“No way.” Uramichi objects. “I don’t want to deal with that headache. Let’s not say anything until after you’re done working here.”

“Oh, now who’s making big plans for the future?” You can't resist a little more teasing. "I thought looking that far ahead was too much to handle?"

“That was when I didn’t have something to look forward to.”

Uramichi might not have meant it to sound like a line; he said it with the same bland, borderline monotone that he usually spoke with, but you feel butterflies all the same. 

#life lessons with uramichi oniisan #uramichi oniisan #big brother uramichi #uramichi omota #uramichi omota x reader #fem reader #x reader #reader insert #one shot #fluff #romance #ao3 fanfic

[carionto]

I heard in the canteen that the humans once used a few antique combustion engines to start one of their portable stars. Any truth to the rumor?

Ah jeez, that was one hell of a day for that guy.

Yes and no. Where do I even being...

Okay. So this place up in Greenland called, uh... I'm gonna butcher this so bad, Hjeilhornhentrotnenheim, has an engineering museum, right? Right, and the guy in charge, his name is, ah fuck this is gonna be bad too ..., Hansinguaq Bjerresvontsgaardsen (I'm just gonna call him Hans from now on because uh yeah, no), collects all the things not fit for display in his personal transport ship. He's essentially converted it into his private mobile museum.

Not long after we established diplomatic channels and preliminary trade routes, Hans eagerly went off on his own to visit Alien equivalents to museums and such. Spent a solid three weeks traveling, sight-seeing, and adding things to his collection.

During a stop on the outer reaches of Coalition space his computer blue screened and forcibly shut down the reactor and pretty much wiped his communication array address book among other less relevant components. And no, I have no clue why he went so far out. He's 46, midlife crisis is my guess, telling him to go out on daring adventures or whatever. Anyway, he couldn't restart the fusion reactor while the inhibitor rod chambers were open, they open and shoot out the star canceler in an emergency shutdown, but one was stuck with the rod half-way in, so Hans had to manually open the reactor and fix it by hand.

Problem is, his transport ship, the Veritable Greenhorn, is fairly big, and the reactor's outer diameter was about 37 meters. Even in zero-g that's a lot of mass for one person to move, not to mention how much force you'd need to pry out a hyper dense metal alloy rod from a gate meant to withstand the pressure of a star right next to it. But he did have a lot mechanical power at his disposal, it just needed to be... rearranged.

Now, he did have backup generators that quietly hum in the background like on every Human vessel, but these are passive and nowhere near enough to charge the hyperdrive even if he could tell it where to go, let alone power machinery to counter a thousand ton jammed deadbolt. He needed something that had a kick to it, something you could really rev beyond its limits just long enough. He needed his V6s and V8s.

After almost two days of DIY engineering details I won't bore you with because I fell asleep when he explained them himself, Hans fired up the engines. It was a very tedious five hours of the engines rythmically tugging the deadbolt a tenth of a milimeter open and what is basically a massive jackhammer pummeling the rod back in. At one point he ran out of gas and was forced to sacrifice his alcohol collection.

Suffice to say it barely worked, all of the machinery he cobbled together became practically unusable, but it worked and he was able to restart the fusion reactor.

Oh, he didn't come home or anything by the way. Like I guess, midlife crisis. If anything, success has made him think nothing can get in the way of his Galactic exploration quest.

So that's the story. No, he didn't use combustion engines to start the reactor or anything, but lacking any other means to fix a problem I honestly didn't know could happen, the petrol guzzlers gave him the right kind of horsepower.

By the way, if you get a chance to tour the Veritable Greenhorn, I'd recommend it. I can't even begin to describe how that contraption looks, it's one of the main displays. I guarantee it's the most specific purpose built and rough pieces of Human engineering you will ever see.

#humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #humans are deathworlders #humanity fuck yeah #carionto #story #scifi

[way2pretty4this]

Study Skills

Start studying a week before every quiz and/or test. This sounds tedious, and it can be, but it will help you gradually soak in the information until it temporarily becomes part of you. (If it's just a memorization thing with 20 terms or less you can start studying a couple days before the test instead)

Watch Youtube videos about the topic you are studying. This is one of the most helpful tips I think I've ever gotten from anyone (it came from my dad in 7th grade). Your professors teach you so much, and they cover a lot of it, but when it's in a text book its hard to focus on and remember, if you watch it in a cute little animated video you are much more likely to remember it. Also they might cover stuff that isn't in your text book and that way if it shows up on a test you're not caught off guard, or worst case scenario you just get a little more knowledge that someone will find interesting someday.

Get tons of sleep. Sleeping may be one of the most important things you can do for yourself. It helps you process the day's events, the things you learned, and the memorization terms you're working on. Also, if you read through your notes right before you go to bed they will be fresh in your mind - for some reason this really helps, especially the night before an exam.

This one goes hand in hand with number 2, but don't just read what your professor gives you. Find books, journals, academic blogs, etc. that address the subject you're working on. Again, either you'll be more prepared for the test later, or you'll have extra information to impress you classmates and teachers.

Write out your notes. I'm not sure if this works for everybody, but personally I think there's something about writing out my notes versus typing them that makes it a little more personal and a memorable.

Exercise! I love this tip because I hate studying. If you spend an hour working through your text book and running memorization tactics it's so refreshing to go for even just a 20 minute walk to clear your head. During this walk you should purposely avoid thinking about your school work.

Don't always study in comfy clothes. Feeling comfortable in your clothes is important, but if all you plan on doing is studying for a day, for at least part of it you should get dressed up. Put on a nice outfit and do your hair. Something that says "I'm going to get straight - A's and I'm gonna look hot doing it". Think Elle Woods.

Test your ability to teach. Try explaining the material to your friend, or if you don't have any, talk to your pet. If you don't have one of those either, then take a video and talk to yourself. If you're able to clearly explain the unit/chapter to somebody who's never even heard of the topic thats when you know you're getting somewhere. If your explanation leaves you or your subject feeling confused, then get back to the books.

ELIMINATE DISTRACTIONS. This is so hard for me but the best way to do this is to turn up the music and move the electronics. If you don't need your computer for your review work, don't have it in the room. You definitely don't need your phone, so connect your airpods and leave it next door. For me I have a lock box and I put any devices I don't need in the box. Then I take the box to a different room in my house and leave it there. Preferably with a friend or family member to stop me from taking my phone out.

Lastly you need to know that the way you ace your tests is by learning every single piece of information down the spelling of the words. You should know your notes or flashcards by heart and if someone asks you about your topic while you're away from your notes you should be able to answer them thoroughly and accurately. One way you can do this is to rewrite your notes, and not in the like print over and over way, but get a separate notebook and try rewriting your notes in new words. Almost as if you're trying to write a paper from a cite without getting copyrighted.

I'm not sure if I said it before, but these are tips that have worked for me. If they don't work for you that's okay but I would encourage you to try them out. Take a deep breathe and get to studying.

♡ You got this! ♡

#self development #stay focused #discipline #self healing #self love #self improvement #self growth #self care #mindset #self help #study motivation #study help #study hard

[elentiyawhitethorn]

Older but Never Wiser

CW: a bit of language

AN: Happy (almost belated) birthday @leiawritesstories my love!! This took way longer than it should have but depending on your time zone this might not be late yet lol, I’m dusting off the cobwebs to give you a little present :)

Based on this prompt: “you’re at the high school reunion and everyone’s talking about how you and [insert jerk here] were prom queen and king, unaware you dumped them years ago, and you’re moping… until you run into your nemesis from high school and you’re thoroughly distracted” (I can’t remember where this came from, it was just in my prompts folder, maybe I came up with it? Maybe not? Idk)

1458 words

Aelin could feel her shoulders begin to hunch as she drew in on herself. She’d known Chaol would be here, of course, but she hadn’t known the subject of prom queen and king would come up so soon, nor their joint senior superlative of “most likely to get married.”

She also hadn’t known Chaol would show up with a gorgeous woman taller than her, hotter than her, certainly classier than her, and wearing a giant diamond on her finger.

“I really thought you two were going to last,” Essar said, voice dripping with pity and sorrow as if she’d truly been invested in the relationship of two high school classmates she’d hardly ever interacted with ten years ago, let alone following graduation.

Aelin smiled tightly. “Well, it was for the best. I’m much happier now with my new boyfriend.” A lie, and an obvious one at that, if Essar bothered to notice. As it was, she was clearly more interested in the piece of gossip than its verity, even a decade after high school.

Some things really didn’t change.

The subject of Chaol was a bitter one—they had lasted several years following high school, and while Aelin had had plenty of time to move on, and multiple relationships following Chaol, seeing him now brought up old insecurities. Being interrogated about the end of their relationship by some random classmate at a high school reunion wasn’t making matters better.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Aelin cut in, “I should make some more rounds. It was nice to catch up with you.” There wasn’t an ounce of sincerity in Aelin’s tone and she couldn’t quite bring herself to care.

She and Essar exchanged goodbyes and Aelin fled, hurrying over to her friend Elide. Elide had been the class valedictorian and was now head of some tech company in Rifthold.

After catching up with her and a few others, Aelin headed for the refreshment table. She wasn’t one for social events, and after the tedious process of listening to the reunion’s organizers give speeches, followed by a solid half hour of unstructured mingling, Aelin was drained.

She poured herself a cup of punch. Staring into the reddish liquid at a distorted reflection of herself, Aelin sighed.

“I can’t believe Aelin Galathynius, socialite, gossip, prom queen extraordinaire, is moping at the snack table at a social event. Hell really has frozen over.”

Aelin started at the voice, looking up to see a man with stark white hair towering over her. He had certainly changed over the past decade, but the sharp pine green eyes clued her in on his identity instantly.

“Rowan Whitethorn,” Aelin drawled, grinning. “You…” She looked him over, taking in the size of his crossed arms, the deep tan, and the hard features. A tattoo snaked up his neck from somewhere underneath his shirt. Aelin whistled. “Time has served you well.”

Rowan chuckled, the sound all too familiar. “You think so?” He paused, and gave her a once-over of his own. “I could say the same.”

Aelin leaned against the table, smiling. “Do tell me what it is you do for a living. Wait—let me guess. Sly business man. Lawyer? Oh, tax collector!”

Another, louder laugh left Rowan’s lips. “I’m a child psychologist.”

Aelin’s jaw dropped. “Damn, okay.”

He grinned. “You’re what, a fashion designer? A housewife?”

Aelin rolled her eyes. “I work at a pharmacy.”

Rowan shook his head in disbelief, smiling widely. Silence settled over the pair, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable pause—merely a moment to take in each other after so long. Aelin remembered arguing with the boy this man had once been over schoolwork, over sports, over absolutely nothing.

“Gods, tell me you’re not with that asshole anymore,” Rowan said, breaking the quiet.

Aelin blinked, then felt her lips unconsciously stretch into a another smile. “No, I’m not.”

Rowan hmmed noncommittalaly. “You two were never a good match.”

He was the first person who hadn’t offered her condolences like it was some kind of recent tragedy, and for that Aelin felt her smile turn soft. “Remind me why we hated each other again?”

A breathy laugh. “I believe that was thanks to the time you scraped up the side of my car trying to park on the very first day of junior year.”

“We were sixteen! No one could drive well at that age.” Aelin was grinning.

Rowan crossed his arms. “Or perhaps the time you literally tased me? With a fucking taser?”

Aelin let out a startled laugh. She’d completely forgotten about that. One of the football boys had hosted a party while his parents were out of town, and his mom was a cop so he brought out her taser for a game of whoever can hold onto this $20 while being tased in the hand gets to keep it. Gods, high school had been quite the experience.

“That was part of the game! You took the risk, and you lost; I can’t be blamed for that. Besides, I happen to remember you making out with my boyfriend on one occasion.”

Rowan groaned in faux embarrassment, a hand running though his short locks. “Lorcan dared us to. Besides, you’d already broken up with Dorian at that point, so it didn’t really count.”

Aelin’s face started to ache as she realized just how widely her smile was stretched. “That definitely still counts, but fine, let me think of some other instance you were an asshole to me. I’m sure there were plenty.”

Rowan shook his head, eyes dancing with mirth, and opened his mouth to make a retort—but someone else beat him to it.

“Aelin! I was so happy to spot you here. How have you been?”

Of course, it was Chaol, leering over at her in a suit far too sophisticated for the occasion.

Aelin felt a wave of calm wash over her as she realized that as much as she didn’t want to have a civil conversation with Chaol, she wanted him to have the upper hand even less.

“Chaol, my gods! I’ve been great; I take it you have been as well judging by the beautiful woman on your arm?”

The woman in question blushed, and Aelin wondered what exactly she knew about her.

Chaol grinned and held up the woman’s hand—and the ring perched on her fourth finger—like some kind of prize. “This is Yrene, my fiancée. Yrene, meet Aelin and… Ronan?”

“Rowan,” Rowan correctly coolly, then glanced at Yrene. “It’s a pleasure.”

Chaol nodded dismissively and turned back to Aelin. “Is that a new haircut?”

It had been a solid six years since she’d dated the man, and at least three since they’d crossed paths. “Yes, it is.”

“And how are you getting on with that Fenrys fellow? Still happy?”

The last time Aelin had seen Chaol had been at the grocery story—fucking small towns—with her boyfriend at the time. He hadn’t lasted more than a month.

“No.”

A flicker of glee crossed Chaol’s features, and Aelin writhed internally.

“Much to my benefit, that is,” Rowan interjected. Aelin had nearly forgotten he was still standing with them. “For now I have her all to myself.”

What?

Chaol blinked, dumbfounded. “You two are together?”

Rowan shrugged. “We reconnected a couple years ago and hit it off—better than we ever had in high school,” he added.

Aelin had just enough self-control to paste a smile on her lips. Now understanding what Rowan was doing for, she took his hand casually.

Rowan’s hand envoloped Aelin’s, and his rough calluses scraped against her palm. It took restraint not to shudder, and Chaol be damned, Aelin was no longer paying attention to the conversation. Her world focused in on the warm hand interlaced with her own.

Less interested, probably now that he’d realized he didn’t have much to hang over her head, Chaol said a farewell and retreated with the fiancée who hadn’t spoken a single word. Aelin watched them leave gratefully.

Rowan slipped his hand out of Aelin’s and she almost objected before realizing herself.

“Thank you, Rowan,” Aelin said softly.

Her gaze drifted over to him and snagged on his piercing green eyes.

Rowan stared back at her for a moment. “No problem.”

Aelin shook her head. “It wasn’t no problem. That was very kind of you.”

Rowan shook his head, but said nothing more about the endeavor. “How long are you in town?”

“A whole week. I wanted to stay with my parents for a bit.”

“And I don’t suppose while you’re here you want to grab coffee together? I still need an example of the atrocities you claim I put you through, after all.”

Aelin’s expression turned fiendish. “Does tomorrow work?”

———

Tag List (this is so outdated so lmk if you want to be removed/added!):

@aelin-bitch-queen

@autumnbabylon

@charlizeed

@evolving-dreamer

@feysand-loml

@flora-shadowshine

@gracie-rosee

@infernoqueen19

@julemmaes

@leiawritesstories

@lemonade-coolattas

@live-the-fangirl-life

@midsizewitch

@morganofthewildfire

@mybloodrunsblue

@nehemikkele

@realbookloverproblems

@rhysandswingspan

@rowaelinismyotp

@rowanaelinn

@sexy-dumpster-fire

@sleeping-and-books

@story-scribbler

@swankii-art-teacher

@thegreyj

@the-lonelybarricade

@thenerdandfandoms

@yesdreamblog

#rowaelin #tog #older but never wiser #my writing

[snek-panini]

Very belated Binderary books, uh...I've lost track actually. I think they are #6 and #7. And it's another two-volume split! This is (Slow) Burn, Baby, Burn by orchidlocked, an extremely long Good Omens fic set in the 1970s. It's about our favorite angel/demon pair navigating the disco scene, and it's not an AU, which is sort of usual in a fic this long and with such a specific premise. There are a fair few real people featured here, some as major characters, and a lot of music history and an excellent playlist alongside all the fun and angsty relationship stuff that so many of us are here for. I learned a lot about disco reading this fic and it was fascinating and also way more queer than I ever realized.

For the cover up there we have a white Allure book cloth on the spine, and white HTV over homemade book cloth for the main cover. The cloth pieces both come from the same sheet but I oriented the stripes this way so they'd be coordinated-but-not-matched and I really love the effect. They're also cotton and really nice to hold. It's funny, I was thinking of binding this fic when I found the fabric while digging through the Joann's remnant bin, and as soon as I saw it this fic not only came to mind but moved up to the top of the to-bind list. It was fate, clearly.

More photos under the cut!

Both spines and a top view. That's orange HTV for the titles. This it the first time I've worked with matte HTV (I usually use metallic or foil) and I was surprised at how much thinner it is, and how easy it was to stick. And I like the color inverse here in counterpoint to the front cover. The top view shows off the handmade endbands and bookmark, and also the rounding job. I'm still working on rounded spines, and the turn-in over the spine didn't come out as smooth as I'd have liked, but I think it's a good result. The ribbon bookmark was supposed to be blue to match the endbands, but every blue ribbon I could find clashed horribly with the cover so it's this nice leafy sage green. Which actually works really well with...

The endpapers! I got these as Joann's too. All four are cut from the same print, but I shifted and rotated them when I trimmed them so the patterns wouldn't all be in the same place. I had desperately wanted this other paper I found on Etsy with little vinyl records all over it, but the pieces weren't the right shape and I'd have had to ship them from overseas ($$), but I like the mood these ones set. And they're thick and nicely textured and look awesome with the cover, so really I think things worked out very well.

Couple of pics of the interior. I kept it fairly simple but I feel like it fits the story.

The scene break line is orange, to match the covers. I usually use gray but wanted something more fun. I recently bought some off-white paper that I used for most of my binderary projects this year because I've heard it's easier on the eyes, and it is, but I used the older bright white for this so the color contrast would be sharper. No complaints; I think it looks amazing. The second image above is the appendix I put together for the volume. Being so centered in the music industry, this fic has a really long playlist that the author put together with their preferred recordings. It's linked in the story and I did include the link text in the book, but I had my mind on preservation and the challenges of digital archiving while I was making this one, so I also took all the title/artist/album info and just listed it here. It was too much to do all by hand, so I learned how to export a Spotify playlist into an Excel doc, then moved that into the Word doc to print. A lot of steps, but not nearly as hard as I'd thought, and way less tedious.

I have to say this book is aesthetically really different than all my previous ones. I ran into so many design hurdles but I honestly couldn't be more pleased with the end result. I'll have to push my comfort zone like this more often, I guess.

#bookbinding #fanbinding #snek makes books #good omens #it's disco so it needed to be appropriately funky #and i think i nailed it actually #look at them they're awesome

[iamadequate1717]

The Breakups

Stede and Ed have three breakups under their belt right now: Ed initiated two of them, and Stede is currently getting blame for one of those. The finale is releasing tomorrow, so hopefully this turns into a moot point, but I'm defending Stede anyway!

Part 2: The Breakups

Note that Part 1 is here:

This 2x7 breakup is likely to be over in 2x8 (.... I say less than 24 hours to the premier and trying to act like I'm a prophet...), and with rule of three, I'm going to say that's going to be their last one. Any more Will-They-Or-Won't-They would be tedious, especially since at that point, we'd be at about one-third of the series with them "broken up," and they need to start communicating as a couple already, but this oscillation is what makes OFMD unique isn't it?

Their breakups are about them as characters: the first time, Ed leaves with Calico Jack; Ed realizes his devotion to Stede but Stede has his fears confirmed... which rolls into the second breakup (Stede doesn't have those fears resolved early enough, and Ed feels like a discarded plaything), which rolls into the third. They need to address the fears and insecurities together and not spiral out on their own. I'm guessing (and using what HBO has shown us) that Ed gets his assurances early, and hopefully, we can put an end to this internal catastrophizing so they can face the world together.

Love, the emotion, may be easy, just like breathing, but a couple is still two people with different experiences and different needs, but real life relationships take work (...I say as a happy single person...). Romcoms end with the First Kiss, fanfics end with the First Sex, but OFMD seems to be carrying us through the growing pains of the relationship. Happily Ever After isn't a magical state that is achieved once you tell each other that you love the other, but so many pieces of media treat that as the end, but OFMD is treating it as a middle. Often times, it feels like the couple is just playing musical chairs, and if they're a couple when time runs out, they're going to be a couple forever!

In S2 speculation, it was not infrequent that people were imagining that the S2 cliffhanger would be Ed and Stede laying eyes on each other for the first time with a fade to black. That isn't interesting. We don't want these two to run out the clock.

But I want to look at the breakups specifically. Let's look at 2x7. Spanish Jackie lays down the truth to Ed, but he doesn't seem to latch onto the big point: does Stede know that this regular guy, no more pirate, part isn't a phase?

"He said at the academy..." Stede was dealing with other things, and from what he saw, Ed went back to piracy. To be fair also, the Revenge doesn't do much piracy itself, so Stede hasn't seen Ed's dissatisfaction first hand. A lot of audience anger toward Stede is an audience who saw the environment 2x1 and 2x2, who saw Ed in the gravy basket, who saw Ed's bored asides with Izzy. They're treating Stede as a member of the audience rather than as a character within the story. Stede didn't see any of this. Most of his interactions with Ed was cutesy fluff. Stede knows he likes being near Ed, but they haven't spent much time talking about deeper topics.

On what Ed does with the breakup in 2x7, I'm bringing up this line from 2x4, when they briefly spoke like adults:

Ed shutting down the conversation and not letting Stede give explanations isn't fair to Stede, but it continued with the third breakup: in 2x7, Ed leaves Stede with some emotional whiplash. Stede was just having one of the best days of his life and was met with an Ed who refused to explain what was going on. When you look at what just Stede saw, it was utterly baffling! My post on that:

And then Stede insulted Ed's fish, thereby making him History's Greatest Monster, amiright?

Ed basically screams that fishermen and pirates are so different, it would be like if a mermaid and a bird tried to have a marriage. It's a self fulfilling prophecy at that point: cut Stede out completely so they have no chance to grow their lives with room for the romantic relationship. (And really, for those criticizing Stede, how do you respond correctly off the cuff to a random statement like that?)

This is devastating: Stede has completely cut himself out of his old life. He left Barbados for Ed, not for piracy. He laid out his feelings, and he made himself vulnerable to Ed. Just hours after being intimate for the first time, he's coldly told it was a mistake, and his sad face at that statement:

He doesn't run off in tears to have a breakdown like I would! He instead is reasonable with Ed: they can define their relationship however they want, but Ed cuts off any possibility of any relationship.

Stede does not know what's going on. I'm really confused what people who are "so mad!" at Stede here would expect of him, provided they only know what Stede knows in universe. Stede just wants to talk and work on their relationship together. Ed wants to start a new career, and more specifically, a life completely separate from Stede.

No, Stede doesn't respond to that pirate line, but he gave the immediate response to the part he cared about more (and likely replayed the conversation over and over in his head later with improved responses, as we do).

Stede does not run after Ed here, but why would he? He's told the audience directly that he thinks Ed is better off without him.

Lucius tells him, "Maybe the time he spent with you is the best it's ever going to get for him," and again, Stede directly tells the audience that he doesn't believe that.

This is not a man with high self esteem. Remember him being ready to be executed and being told he's the worst pirate captain ever? He thought that was fair.

Ed cuts off their relationship, and Stede thinks he deserves that, that Ed realized he was better off without Stede. So Stede lets him go.

On their breakups, the first one was short (Ed's back the same episode!), but the second happened at a season break so there was more time for fandom speculation. We all saw the theories, and a too common thread was "Will Ed forgive Stede??", and we saw the speculation that Stede should prostrate himself before Ed and beg for forgiveness, no matter how long it took. It simplifies the narrative, but is that the show we're watching and is that fair to Stede?

Stede instantly forgave Ed after choosing Calico Jack over him in front of everyone; the second breakup was longer and they had more time to do the whole negative self talk thing, but Stede still did deserve more grace, didn't he? With Season 2 (and its truncated run time!), we saw the criticisms that Ed forgave Stede too easily, but did he? They're on friendly terms, but there is still a wall.

See Ed's time in the Gravy Basket. The first three episodes were the Soup Show. It symbolized family or warmth or whatever (...I say as a robot who doesn't understand human feelings...), so it's a standout that Ed calling the soup poison is his feelings about accepting that warm domesticity, not something literal about Hornigold. He opened himself up to someone, and all he got was heartbreak and confirmation he was unlovable (and he was too scared to do anything about it).

And this is followed almost immediately by the baller line about a man being brought down in the place where he had definitely chosen Stede for the first time.

In the Gravy Basket, we had the metaphor on the feet (no shoes = death, shoes = life... there is good meta running around, but I'm too lazy to find it). Ed gains one shoe (putting him between life and death) when Stede starts to be led to his body, and Stede brings life to him (shoe shot!).

Stede is an anchor to life at this low point, but that doesn't mean that Ed completely forgives.

In Season 2, we don't have the Gloves as Metaphor with Ed anymore (half gloves when he meets Stede, no gloves at the academy, full gloves when he goes full kraken), but he still has other cues on how his feeling about Stede. We don't have the casual touches of Season 1, and everything feels "off." We're lacking in the tenderness, and Ed still is keeping his distance.

Ed and Stede have held hands this season, but not in a romantic way.

When we get to the romance, Ed doesn't put his hands on Stede's skin/hair like Stede does for him (production stills don't count!). In the third kiss, he pushes Stede's collar up as a barrier.

With what the audience was invited in for their love scene, Stede is visually more exposed and ready, and Ed is more distanced and closed off (that is NOT to say that Ed wasn't into it...).

Everything is close to what it should be, but it's not the perfect expression of love exploding across the screen. Something's off. The audience can pick up on it, and Stede, our autistic king, may subconsciously feeling it, but he is taking a lot of it at face value. (They slept together! They're a couple and an unbroken team now!)

On The Sex, is this the first time that Stede has received (verbal) concerns about his welfare in the series? He was told he was a monster, a plague, a defiler of beautiful things, and he's just been trying to live his life with no one refuting that even in a small way.

Sure, Ed said his fake heads idea didn't suck.

Sure... uh.... Ed said he wasn't a girl?

He gets some affirmation, they do something to help them feel alive almost losing each other, and he's intimate for the first time with the man he loves. Everything is going great! But everything instantly flips 180 degrees a few hours later. He's been holding it together well most of the season, even after thinking that Ed is literally dead, and y'all shouldn't judge him for a few mildly harsh words said without thinking. He feels foolish and used and heartbroken, and his bad day has just begun.

I hope I can get some thoughts up on the last part of 2x7 before the finale, but until then, here's some bonus sad face Stede during their first breakup, where Ed broke up with him in front of everyone! Everyone saw it! ("Never left" psh, likely story.)

How can you not be sad when he's sad??

We'll see what the finale does with them soon. Overall, I'm happy so far with Ed/Stede in Season 2. The rest of it... eh, Lucius/Pete is my happy spot. I'm hoping we get a good Ed/Stede payoff in the finale, and that we get to see more of their growth as a couple in Season 3 (manifesting!). It's rare that a show/movie/book/etc focused on just a romance sticks with the couple after that "finally together!" spot, and I want to see what this writing team does with that settled romance.

#our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd s2 #ofmd s2 spoilers #stede bonnet #stede defense #stede did nothing wrong #blackbonnet #gentlebeard

[hannahssimblr]

I get suspended, but it’s not that bad. 

The last time, when I set the toilet paper dispenser on fire, it was a lot more of a traumatising experience than this. Everyone was so concerned about me becoming an arsonist that I needed to spend several hours speaking to a child psychologist about my motivations, which I explained was boredom and a fascination with watching little pieces of one ply toilet paper burn. It was likely the most worrying thing possible that I could have said. Still, through long, tedious conversation and a thousand boring questions and hypothetical scenarios we determined by the end of the week that I am merely troublesome rather than a deliberate menace and threat to the safety of teachers and students.

This is the same personality trait that got me kicked out of the boy scouts at ten. I am a disruptive influence, and the therapist simply recommended more supervision, which I did not receive from my casually neglectful parents. At least I never set a toilet stall on fire again.

This week is more about watching TV and playing my PlayStation. I do not have to go to a psychologist to go to, just the hospital to get a trio of stitches in my head and checked for a concussion, which I don't have, and then I am back, melding to the couch, playing Grand Theft Auto IV until I am jittery and my eyes are so manic I feel like I have to manually blink them. 

My mother is extremely kind to me, which is interesting. She panicked after I arrived at Trisha Bailey’s house to collect Ivy earlier than expected last Tuesday with blood pouring from a wound in my head and promptly fainted on the parquet floor in front of two eight year old girls. She had to leave work early to come and get me, and she barely even complained about it. She’s been treating me like I’m made of glass ever since, while I, in tandem, have been making an effort to play up my injuries and fake headaches as much as possible so that she is forced to make snacks for me when she’s home from work. This is a pretty good reason to develop something like Munchausen’s Syndrome, I think. I’m actually being mothered, though it's most likely that she's worried that my dying or having brain damage would mean she'll have to hire a full time nanny or bring in another au pair from France who'll lift individual diamonds from her tennis bracelet over a period of months like the last one did.

She even brushes my hair back and kisses my forehead at one point, which feels like it is crossing a line, and is so weird that I feel urged to make a joke about it. It pisses her off and she doesn’t come near me again for the rest of the day, but that’s fine. I wanted to be alone with the TV anyway. 

One evening I go to Jen and Michelle’s, who both coo over me until I part my hair to show them my stitches, which they act disgusted by, but still, they make me snacks and coffee and tell me I am brave for standing up to Fitzy. I don’t deny it even if it’s not what I truly believe. 

Evan joins us later and acts less disgusted by the gash in my head. He wants to know about Fitzy, who he thinks is a massive dickhead, and how badly I hurt him back. I exaggerate, but figure it’s okay because he is suspended too. It’s not like anybody will see him and call me a liar. I’ll tell them that the thumbnail scratch on his cheek was intentional and they will all believe me. 

He and I go out onto the seafront and smoke together, far away from Jen, who is supposed to be off them but will beg for one if she smells them, and Michelle, the daughter of a medical doctor who shuns them and judges anyone who doesn’t. 

“I kind of wish I’d seen the fight,” Evan is saying as we stroll along in the drizzle, and the end of his cigarette crackles and glows in the haze of the night, “Just to see Willy’s stupid face when you smacked it.”

“Yeah, I mean… he looked pissed off I guess. I don’t really remember, I was all adrenaline.”

“I’ve never been in a fight.”

“You don’t want to be. It’s horrible. I only did it because-” I break off and shrug, “Well, you know why, I suppose.”

I see him peering at me from the corner of my eye as I look over the bay, “Is she worth it?”

I sigh, “Yeah, sure. I don’t know. I think it’s complicated. I don’t regret it but I don’t know if she’d appreciate it either, like she might say that defending her like that is too intense.”

“Is that because you’re not properly together?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm. She should be grateful,” Evan says around a mouthful of smoke, and I don't respond. 

“What’s she like?”

I don’t really know how to answer, “Um, she’s nice, she’s, like, sweet under this cool-girl exterior, and really smart.”

Evan laughs, “No, that’s not what I mean. I’m just asking, you know, since she’s supposedly pretty experienced and all that…I just was curious…”

“Oh,” I scratch my head, careful to avoid my stitches which itch almost constantly, “Are you, like, asking me what sex is like? I dunno, man, stick your finger in your mouth. It’s like that times a million.”

“Oh, c’mon, I’ve done it. Christ sake. I was just wondering if it ever gets better.”

I pause as I try to determine whether he’s really trying to have a heart to heart with me or if I'm just picking him up wrong. Either way it's a bit awkward, and I don’t know what to say other than, “Yeah, man, I mean, I don’t know what your situation is or anything but it gets a lot better,” I flick my cigarette onto the path and immediately start pulling another out of the packet. Not that I usually smoke more than one at a time, it’s just I am hoping my fumbling around will interrupt this conversation. 

It doesn’t. 

“Michelle is pretty shy, you know, during,” He admits, and my face burns. I really do not want to think about them that way. 

“Most girls are shy. We’re still pretty young.”

“Yeah but, I dunno, it bothers me a bit, and then I see guys like you and girls like Alison and I think that you must have it all figured out. Do you know what I mean?”

“We don’t really, we’re all just kind of muddling our way through.”

“Yeah, but you must have- I mean, you always have a girlfriend.”

I’m surprised he even paid that much attention to me, “Yeah, most of the girls I’ve gone out with never wanted to do anything more than kiss.”

His eyebrows vanish under his fringe, “Really?”

“Yeah, they’re mostly not ready for anything else. It’s fine, I’m okay with it because it’s just part of how it goes. I just focus on how lucky I feel when someone does want to… let me.”

“Like Alison.”

“Yeah.”

“I think everything kind of makes sense now,” he smirks, eyes flicking to my head wound, and I’m certain that whatever he is thinking about me now, my motives and my reasoning for fighting my friend in the changing rooms, he is most likely wrong. 

“Look,” I stop walking and wave my cigarette around vaguely, “you guys will figure it out, huh? I don’t know what to tell you about it. She really seems to like you, so,”

“Yeah,” he says glumly, “I like her too, it’s just that I wish some things were better. Like, she’s barely allowed to come out at night and hang out.”

“Yeah, I suppose that's because her parents are strict.”

“Right! Her mam always gets so annoyed about her being out too late, and then it’s a big drama, and Shell wants to talk about how annoyed she is, and I’m like, why does your mam even care about what you do? You know what I’m saying?”

“Yeah, I get it. It’d be nice if it were different, but,” I shrug, “You know it’s not for nothing, right? Like, I hate to be the guy that defends someone’s strict parents or whatever, but if they’re not strict on Michelle then they can’t be strict on Jen, and if they’re not strict on Jen, well,” I exhale a lungful of smoke, “You know how it is.”

“It’s annoying though.”

“You’ll have to learn to enjoy Michelle in the light of day, and if you stay together until college then you can do whatever you like.”

“College?” He echoes, pulling a face as though the suggestion of waiting that long is ludicrous and unfathomable, but college doesn’t seem so far away for me. I’m counting down. Fifteen months until we are finished school, I will have one last long, empty summer and then I will leave, I’ll vanish into thin air leaving behind nothing but the shadow of a boy, an imprint on a couch cushion, an unmade bed and a cereal bowl in the sink.

I already have September 2010 circled in bold red marker on a calendar with arrows and asterixis all around it because that's it, freedom. That’s when I will get on a plane and go somewhere far from here and never speak to anybody from this town again. Jen and Ivy and a select few others are the only ones who will know my whereabouts. College, to me, has been aspirational before I was even a teenager.

Evan hasn’t even thought that far ahead. 

“You can probably stick it out until then,” I say flatly, “If you’re in love or whatever.”

“Uh, yeah totally, I think we are. I think we’re good together, so I can probably just learn to deal with it.”

“It's worth it,” I don’t know why it would be hard anyway. Evan is so lucky. If I was in his position and had a girl who loved me like Michelle apparently loves him I don’t think any sacrifice would be too much. I'd be on top of the world. I only get to see her during the day? Wow, how lucky I’d feel just to be able to do just that. Eighteen months until we have the freedom to do whatever we like with our time together? What’s eighteen months? If it was real love with someone then I’d happily wait years. Maybe Evan is just a bit stupid or something. 

I drop a hand onto his shoulder, forgetting that sudden movements shock him, and he leaps about a meter in the air. I clear my throat as he gathers himself again. “You’ll figure it out.” I say.

He wants to go back to Michelle’s house where it’s warm and dry, but I’d rather take a walk by the sea for a while. Several days of being cooped up inside have made me feel all soft and cosy, which Doherty would probably say isn’t a good way to feel. He’d want me to take a bracing dip in the sea or run fifteen kilometres in the driving rain just to feel life pumping through my veins on a day like this. Thinking of his big bald head and angry face prompts me to flick my half smoked cigarette away and leave it smouldering in the cycle path. 

I should stop doing unhealthy things. 

I take out my phone and text Alison. 

Are you around?

I’m at home

Want company?

ok come over

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#lucky boy 2009 #tell me who put their finger in their mouth during this chapter lmaoooo #tw: smoking #tw: sex mention #tw: injury