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kitkatt0430 · 1 year

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The time has come!!!! To watch the final four episodes of the Flash. Starting here with episode 10. I've currently got some tasty pizza but I may make some popcorn later. Will definitely have to resist the urge to throw the popcorn at the screen because my house is soooo dusty right now. (mid home-reno, at the point where all the big stuff is done and everything is now covered in a thick layer of drywall dust and i will literally be dusting the house over this for weeks to come)

The opening with Eddie is cute. Looks like 'Malcolm' is a research scientist? Since, from what spoilers I've seen, the N!SF is what resurrected Eddie, I have to wonder if the Malcolm persona was crafted to fit what Eobard wished Eddie was like. The N!SF has been retconned so much since it was first mentioned, but it started as an artificial speed force the Eobard created and it took Eobard as its first avatar. So it'd make sense if it was trying to remake Eddie in an image more pleasing to Eobard...

Still, it's too bad Malcolm isn't a separate character from Eddie.

Lol, Allegra as Rainbow Brite. I do find that hilarious. And the suit is awful.

Chester is no Cisco when it comes to super suits, that's for sure. How about calling up Ryan. He's not as good at is as Cisco, but he's not rainbow bathrobe bad at it.

I still think Cecile should have moved with Joe and Jenna. She's a great lawyer when the show remembers that she's a lawyer, but there's a lot of tell-not-show going on with her being a super hero and she seems happiest when she's with Joe and Jenna. This season's biggest problem, I think, is that it hasn't handled juggling the main cast well and, much as I like Cecile... I think that having her go into semi-retirement with Joe would have been a good choice. She still could have been commuting for her defense lawyer practice, giving us that one episode with Becky, but otherwise it would have been one less character to juggle and opened up the opportunity for Barry and Iris to raise Nora in the same house they were raised in.

Khione's place is very plant-filled. And I love that she's named them all. She's definitely leveled up on her powers since last we saw her and I like that she writes her diary entries as letters to her sisters, Caitlin and Frost. I still don't know what her purpose is because she hasn't done anything that couldn't have been easily handed off to someone else, so... *shrug* I've given up on the idea that she has an actual purpose that only she can do - you know, right hero at the right time - at this point. Still, very sweet.

Also did she have to look at the camera directly while talking about Blaine?

Iris - Since when do you do things last minute. Me - Where have you been? This man is your husband, sweetie. If he isn't doing something last minute, then he's doing it five minutes late.

Pulitzer nomination!!!! YAY!!! Go Iris!!!!

It's 'cobalt' blue energy that takes Barry to the past. I like the person who walks by cupping a cd player in their hands. That's so funny, but very 2000.

Oh!!! the laundry van!!! reference to the pilot episode!!! love it :D

Barry being an awkward duck with not-yet-Captain Singh. David is going to remember this one day and wonder. Anywho, love that Barry's first instinct is to go to Joe for help when he can't get back home. Not surprising it doesn't work out - you're a stranger to him now, Barry - but still.

Next try, Professor Stein. Who, given the time travel shenanigans he's already played with his own timeline at this point, would probably believe Barry a little more easily. But still not surprising he didn't believe him over the phone. Bet if Barry had shown up in person and started talking about the Legends, that would have gone better.

Of course, Barry then sees his parents. And just. Gets so focused that the Reverse Flash blindsides him. Love that Henry saves Barry from being killed. Nora's first thought at seeing Barry is 'he looks just like my father'. Their shared concern about Barry even though he's just some stranger... it's good to finally see the people who raised Barry before Joe. And that Barry's kindness towards strangers and sense of duty to help is something that is as much from them as from Joe.

Henry - I'm Dr. Allen and this is my wife Nora and we were first on the scene after your accident. Barry - *internally freaking out because he loves his parents but he knows his mom is gonna die soon and his dad will go to prison and he wants to save them, knows he can't, and doesn't want to fuck up the timeline again because he actually didn't intentionally time travel for a change* O_O Umm.... hi... I'm... Bart.

Barry calling himself Bart will never not be funny to me.

Nora - Can we call family or friends for you? Barry - *No mom, you can't call yourself, sorry* Nope.

Gosh, I do love Henry and Nora so much. They save this guy on the street, take him to the hospital, and insist on taking him out for pizza. Knowing they're such kind and helpful people really highlights what a tragedy what happens to them are because... how many people would they have tried to help if Nora had lived and Henry hadn't spent fifteen years in jail? Not with super powers but with just kindness and an insistence on helping the people around them.

Joe and David wanting to help Barry now too. :D Mysterious voice growls Joe's name and there's a blue crystal that... possess Joe? Well. Would you call that shade of blue... cobalt? *snicker*

Nora - Well, what about your family? Where are they? Barry - *AWKWARD* They died.

Again. Nora and Henry being so very, very kind to Barry. Giving him something he's missed for so long. And he can't accept their offer to stay with them, much as he wants to.

Matt!Eobard shows up, with the ominous helicoptor noises! Of course Barry assumes this whole setup is his fault. But it isn't.

Barry could be having a nice evening with his parents, instead he's at a bar with the guy who is an evening away from causing Barry's childhood PTSD. And Eobard laying out the situation is interesting because there are more options than Eobard mentions and he genuinely doesn't realize that. It's just... kind of fascinating for Barry to see what's happening from the point of view of knowing how this will turn out in the end.

For Barry to have the life that Eobard is threatening to take away... he does kind of have to let Eobard win. Just not in the way that Eobard intends to at that moment.

Barry going back to Henry's office right as Henry and Nora at talking about how they wish they could have helped him... do love that timing. :D

Barry getting to tell his parents that their love made him who he is even now, so many years after their deaths... even if they don't realize his words really are for them. Very sweet.

Uh-oh, growling voice is back. I suspect it's trying to stop Barry from getting to Eobard in time to save mini-Barry from Eobard's evil plans. Though that begs the question of why it brought Barry back in time in the first place.

Joe - Hey, so I know everything. Barry - Oh? Not even gonna question this. Help me Joe.

Waiting since the dawn of time, huh? So if the N!SF's main color is red, then why is it using blue now instead?

I like the doctor who takes charge when the hospital is damaged - she's my hero now. Oh gosh, she's Ramsey Rosso's mother. Now his disdain towards his mother for dying of HLH pisses me off even more. Dr. Rachel Rosso was an amazing woman.

Seriously, why is the N!SF's main color suddenly blue????

Barry - I'm not here to save myself. I'm here to save you. Eobard - Bullshit. *it's in his eyes, okay???*

Oh yeah, he's not here to save himself. He just... carries himself... out... of the building.

Though I do appreciate Barry risks his own timeline to offer Eobard the chance to do the right thing. But Eobard can't see beyond his own ego to realize that Barry already knows what will happen if Eobard goes through with his plan.

And I do love that we finally get to have Eobard call himself the hero and Barry the villain. Eobard cannot see beyond his own selfishness to realize that not only is he the bad guy, but that he's the bad guy because of his own actions. Even in his personal future when he 'embraces' being the bad guy, Eobard still thinks that it's all Barry's fault and the real villain is Barry even if no one sees it.

And there's the big fight. S1 Barry!!!! aww, back when his suit looked like actual protective gear and not a Halloween costume made of moisture wicking fabric.

Eobard - OH NO NOT THE CONSEQUENCES OF MY ACTIONS CATCHING UP TO ME!!!! Barry - Told you so. Also thanks for the catharsis, asshole.

lol

Back to Malcolm!Eddie. Who gets the classic struck by lighting of destiny, but it's red. Like the N!SF usually is but hasn't been all episode - see this is why changing the color coding for the N!SF to blue suddenly was bad. Consistency is important!!

And apparently the N!SF can transport objects because it also brought Malcolm!Eddie a police dossier. On Eddie Thawne.

That was actually a really strong opening episode for the finale. I am glad that they're closing the loop before the end of the show. That said, I'm not sure how I feel about it being one of the focuses of the series finale. It's appropriate to revisit what started it all at the end of the show, but at the same time there's been an obsession with Nora's death throughout the whole show that, at this point, it does also feel like they're beating a dead horse. But I'm not sure when else in the show it might have gone... unless they'd done Savitar as the Flash from the timeline Eobard came from where Nora didn't die with Savitar causing Flashpoint towards the end of S3 instead of Barry causing it at the end of S2, but I've got a post about that fanfic idea somewhere. (I actually really want to write that at some point.)

The fact that this was such a well written and paced episode makes me worried the rest of the episodes aren't going to live up to it. Because I've been watching this whole season and, uh, this quality of episode really isn't what the season's average has looked like.

Getting a glimpse of the N!SF's personality here does make me wonder just how much it may have warped Eobard's mind already by the time Barry first met him. Or if its personality was modeled off it's creator and it merely encouraged Eobard's worst traits. This Barry knows Eobard is capable of choosing to be a good person and caring about other people beyond his own selfishness, which is why I think Barry gave him the warning even knowing Eobard wouldn't take it. He still wanted to give that part of Eobard that genuinely wants to be a hero a chance to be one. Given what spoilers tell me the N!SF is gonna do to Eddie, I can't discount the idea that Eobard might have turned out very different as a speedster without the N!SF's corruption - and I think maybe Barry wonders that now too, having spoken to the N!SF directly through its possession of Joe.

That said, I do enjoy Eobard being an entitled asshole who cannot see beyond his own ego and cannot conceive of being wrong. We got a glimpse here of Eobard back when the character was still well written and fascinating to watch because he is a genius but his blind spots are so obvious to everyone but him. So when his well thought out plan falls apart, he doesn't see why until it smacks him in the face.

Anyway, one episode down and three to go.

#kitkatt0430 watches #the flash #season 9 #season 9 spoilers #a new world: reunions #s09e10

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lake-archive · 4 days

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Scene 57

AO3 Link

Fandom: Persona 5

Character (main): Anja / Luka (OC), Goro Akechi

Scene 56 - Masterlist - Scene 58

They were facing their phone, sliding back and forth between the applications. There were several on there, ranging from a mere writing and image editing app to several gaming apps. This phone was filled to the brim with applications yet one stuck out… A red one, morphing from a black eye on a red background to a wide silhouette of a smile, resembling the figure’s mask on its own. It was a weird application and they were playing around with it… Or rather eyed it in turn, hesitant to open it. All while sitting at Station Square, waiting for Akechi to arrive. He had notified that he would be arriving late so there was no need to worry, or so they concluded. Yet this app… According to Pipistrello it was ‘the key to access the palace’... This bizarre app…

“What is that app to begin with?” They had asked the figure, when the two had been talking days ago in this mysterious space Pipistrello resided in. This one was however busy cackling, not giving them a direct answer.

“Open it dearie~” He urged them on instead.

“And install a virus on my phone? No thanks.”

“Aww, don’t you trust me~? Just open it. I would never temper with your device like that…”

“You installed this thing on it!”

“Haha, you’re right. But nothing more than that. But keep me waiting and I might do something hilarious with your phone. Don’t you want to find out~?” It said so with a wide, wide smile on its mask, almost dark. It sent shivers down their spine and, although hesitantly, they got themself to open the app eventually with the tap of a finger.

“Fine fine. I’ll do it.” Yet the moment they did they were met with an… Odd sight. Once they did they saw a map spread out, the map of a town. Yet there were no marked locations. Sure, the outline of the roads were there but no buildings whatsoever. It was… Empty. Literally. “What’s that?”

“Do you have no eyes? It’s a map, silly.” The figure responded, though chuckling right after. “My my, what an oblivious one I caught.”

“I… I know that much! It’s just… Weird…”

“Oh? What’s so weird about it?”

“There’s nothing on it!”

“Ah yes, indeed. That’s because you need to fill out the blanks~”

They looked up at Pipistrello, not even trying to hide their confusion. “I have to… Fill out the blanks? Do you want me to go around Tokyo and mark every single location?”

“Haha, you could do that if you ever feel like it~”

“That… I think I’m gonna pass…” Not like they knew where they would be going to begin with. Seriously, if this was some weird scavenger hunting app then—

“But alas, call this your navigator. The entry between the cognitive world and the world you live in.” The figure said, explaining it rather nonchalantly.

They eyed it closer, even zooming into the app. A navigator? This thing… This had to be the worst navigator they had seen then. Nothing was on it so for who would it even be useful!? That was the question! “I… Don’t get it.”

“Slide up dearie. You’ll see…”

Slide up? They weren’t sure why or what to do but they obliged for now, sliding it up to open… Another window? Yeah, a window with three blank spaces. Four boxes, marked what was supposed to go in there and it read… “Name, location, concept and… Distortion?”

“Ding ding ding. Full points~” Pipistrello announced, a sudden bell ringing across the place, making them shriek up yet trying to not move too much or else they may as well be devoured by the place. In fact, whatever they sat on, they felt a mouth opening, as if something was just waiting to take a bite. And that was a terrifying thought to have, being so close to becoming a meal. “That’s all you need. Simple, isn’t it~?”

“W… Well… It does sound simple but…” What were they supposed to imagine? A name? Of what? It couldn’t be a place, location already existed. And what concept? What does distortion mean!? “What does any of this mean?”

“Hmm… I could say something but where’s the fun in that?” It continued, sounding so very nonchalant. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. You’re a smart one assisting a so–called ace detective, aren’t you? You can figure it out.”

“Eh? You won’t explain that either!?”

“There will be no need, sweetheart. You will get there.” Pipistrello said, the smile on its mask only becoming more amused. “All I will give you is the name of the target… But you know her already.”

“Ishikawa Miyuki, right?”

“Ding ding ding!” And another bell sound. “You catch on fast~ As long as you look into her you’ll figure it out. Now chop chop, don’t keep me waiting at her little Palace~”

That was all the information they had and honestly… It was so damn confusing! They had a name yet what was that about the rest!? As long as they looked into Miyuki but… How!? They couldn’t just ask her directly, right!? Ugh, how does anyone handle this!? What nonsense was this!? And it just had to make it so damn complicated! They could just smash words in yet they wouldn’t even know where to start! Hah, this was going to be a—

“Good morning Luka. Sorry for my late arrival, something came up at the last second.” They heard a familiar voice asking, making them look up from their smartphone in surprise. And they were met with a guy who had a rather light smile on his face, the familiar smile… Akechi–Kun. Took him long enough.

“Ah, morning! Don’t worry about it, ya told me already!” They assured him with the usual grin, though that faded when noticing his clothes. “Those stuffy ones again?”

Akechi looked at them a little dumbfounded when they made such a comment. “Is something the matter with them?”

“You sure you’re not sweating in that? Looks way too sticky…”

“I already told you that I am doing just fine.”

“Don’t blame me for a sudden heat stroke.” They then got up, putting their phone into their pocket and stretching for a moment. “Anyways, let’s get going! We got work and stuff, right?”

“Someone is surprisingly eager.”

“One more second outside and I’m gonna explode! I wanna be somewhere where it’s nice and chilly!”

“So that’s all… Of course…”

“I’m still taking this seriously! Promise!” They had no inten— Wait, actually… Thinking of Ishikawa, maybe they should ask Akechi. He could know something.

But they were not going to do that in this heat, no way! First the two gotta get somewhere cooler!

Scene 56 - Masterlist - Scene 58

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eijishimas · 3 years

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caught red handed.

18+ nsfw content. minors dni. all characters are aged up.

masterlist.

content warnings: f!reader, college!au, masturbation, mentions of alcohol, voyeurism, daddy kink, bit of a handjob, bit of oral (m!receiving), filming, slight degradation, creampie, one (1) instance of bakugou slapping your pussy.

notes: happy belated birthday to my bestie, @rekiri . you deserve the world and so much more, you’re sweet and hilarious and i fucking love talking to you, whether we’re joking or being more serious. i know you told me not to, but i really wanted to write something for you as a gift (because ya girl is a bit of a broke bitch). ik it’s not eren, kiri, or reki, but i hope you like this piece regardless. i love you, even if you annoy me to death, you whore /j. this one’s for you <3

wc: 2.6k | inspo (nsfw link): xxx

Everyone knew college was stressful. Deadlines nearly every single week, assignments and essays, not to mention attending classes brought a whole new wave of anxieties for students every single day. Sometimes that stress was either doubled or relieved by having a partner for a project or two. Luckily for you, you and your old high school classmate Katsuki Bakugou were paired up for a project for one of your Quirk Law classes. It was a research project, one that required a forty slide presentation. You were headed on your way to Katsuki’s dorm today to work on it at the time you agreed upon: 5pm. Then you two would study together for upcoming midterms. It was all planned out down to a tee. So at around 3:50pm, Katsuki knew he had time. He figured he needed a break from his Rescue Tactics Indoors II class, otherwise his brain would begin oozing from his ears.

Pushing aside his overpriced textbook, he rolled his shoulders back, hearing the cracks of his stiff muscles while he stretched at his desk. He let out a sigh, propping his chin up on the palm of his hand as he scrolled mindlessly through his socials. Mina had posted a Throwback Thursday post, an old one of him and you back in your freshman year of college. His nose twitched in annoyance as he recalled the parties, more specifically Denki Kaminari’s birthday party, where he had gotten so drunk that the walls melted and bent before him. Katsuki’s expression changed however, as he swiped through the collection of photos to stumble across an image of you and him. Have you always worn dresses that tight? You practically had your ass out from how short your garment had been cut, tits threatening to spill out of your low hanging neckline. Not only that, but Katsuki had an arm slung around your shoulder. His smile was stretched wide due in part to the alcohol in his system, but also because you were standing next to him. You were laughing at something Mina had said behind the camera, your hand tossed against the slightly unbuttoned shirt Katsuki had worn that night. Your fingers had brushed against his toned chest and he scoffed at the thought. Slowly but surely, memories of that party flooded back to Katsuki in waves.

They were mostly recounts from Kirishima and Mina, but apparently you two had made out in front of everyone that night. He swiped left again, swallowing dryly as he saw just that. Your manicured fingers were wrapped tight around his party shirt, tongues in a deadly dance of want and desperation for each other. Katsuki’s eyes grew as he noticed that the photo hadn’t cut out the part where he had been kneading your ass through that skimpy dress of yours. Immediately, Katsuki went to Mina’s dms demanding to take down the photo. And she did, thank god, but not without sending Katsuki more than ten photos of you and him making out at the party. He clenched his jaw, anger and a low desire plaguing his conscience. Glancing to the top left corner of his phone, he noted the time. 4:10pm.

He had time.

Saving the photos to his gallery, he pushed his chair away from his desk to have some fucking breathing room. His eyes flitted down to his sweats and as he expected, there was a tent forming. He groaned, wiping the sweat from his palms off on his pant leg before languidly beginning to palm himself through his clothes. His breaths quickened, chest stuttering as he looked to his phone displaying the photos of you and him. There’s a faint recollection in the back of his head of how you taste. Like cherries from your glossy lips, like vodka from the shots you took off of Denki earlier that evening, how you moaned into his mouth the night you had drunkenly kissed.

Katsuki tugged the waistband of his sweats down, allowing his previously constrained cock to breathe. It slapped against his stomach, heavy and leaking. Shit, he didn’t remember being this horny at the beginning of this. Spitting into his palm, he lubed up his dick as best as he could on short notice. His eyelids drooped as he swiped through the pictures like a filmstrip, a montage of all the best moments he had with you at that party. You grinding on his lap, you whispering dirty ideas you wanted to do with him later, you, you, you…

Katsuki squeezed his aching shaft, fisting his cock as precum dribbled down his slippery head. His face was an uncanny shade of crimson, a testament to how horny he was all for a few old pictures of the two of you. “Y/n.” He swore he barely recognized his voice from how breathless and needy it was. He continued to pump his cock, the only thoughts replaying in his mind were perverted fantasies of you bouncing on his dick hard enough to hear the slap of your ass cheeks against his abs.

Tapping the screen of his phone twice to zoom in, he admired your curves with pursed lips. Fuck, you really were gorgeous. Everything about you radiated a sinful nature he could never put his tongue on. You were tempting him, licking flames up his body with such intensity that made him shiver. He cursed, thumb drifting over his slit as he hissed. Fuck you for being as ravishing as you were that night, fuck you for making him feel so goddamn needy for your-

“Bakugou, I was about to text you but I remembered you were studying today, so I figured it would be okay if I came a bit...” your words trailed off. You blinked rapidly in an attempt to process the scene unfolding before you. Katsuki Bakugou, holding his dick in his hand, face on fire with a deep blush, his other free hand secure around his phone with- was that a picture of you from your freshman year of college? There was a beat of silence, Katsuki’s uneven breathing the only sound in the room aside from the low drawl of the ceiling fan over both of your heads. You gaped at him, tongue darting out to wet your lips upon realizing his hand hadn’t stopped moving. If anything, you saw his hand flex around his cock, further tightening his grip as you stood right in front of him.

“What the fuck-”

“What?” he beat you to the punch, his lips twitching into a devilish smile, “Don’t like what you see?” His confidence knocked the air out of you, your bewildered attitude showing true on your features. Your body feels warm, searing beneath his gaze. “Excuse me?” you squeaked out, overcome with both curiosity and a hint of lust for the ash blond.

“Are you gonna fucking help me or not?” His pride was refusing him to be flustered, not when he was this feverish for you. He needed the upper hand, he needed control over this situation. And it seemed by how you were shifting your weight from side to side, that it was happening just as he wanted. Who were you to refuse such an offer from Katsuki Bakugou?

And that’s how you ended up here, nestled between thick, muscled thighs with your hand wrapped around his throbbing cock. He had you spit over his dick, his entire shaft gleaming in all its glory as it stood to attention in your grasp. The flash of his camera burned your eyes as you suckled on his crown, hand continuously jerking his cock while he ravenously watched you through the screen. The guttural groan that escaped him was nothing short of music to your ears, your thighs tensing as the coils of heat continued to build and knot between your legs.

“Mm. Keep going like that, take it. All the way in now, like a good little slut,” Katsuki instructed, his voice slicing through the heavy atmosphere of desire. The words make you whimper, enveloping his sensitive head in vibrations while you lick around his slit. A large hand cupped your face, forcing you to make eye contact with the ash blond behind the camera. His black tank top truly had no confines over him, since it was tight enough to see the outlines of his pecs and ripped torso. Katsuki sure worked hard to maintain his appearance, but you knew he had the strength to back those muscles up. The thought of him completely dominating you, holding you with strong arms and pinning you down with his body made your pussy even more wet with your slick than it already was. Even from how you were on your knees, Katsuki possessed an unspoken will over you. You wanted to please him, make him feel good, make him have no good reason not to give you everything he had to offer.

You took your lips off of his head with a little ‘pop’, eyes wide and expectant as a string of drool connected your bottom lip to the tip of his cock. Bakugou’s smile grew, making sure your face was completely in frame and in focus. “Dirty girl,” he hummed, thumb tracing the apple of your cheek before guiding your lips toward his twitching cock. You slowly kissed the vein on the side of it, mumbling out four words:

“Your dirty girl, daddy.”

The moment the words left your mouth, Katsuki let out a low, gravelly moan. It was as if a switch inside him had flipped. Without warning, he’s pulling you off the floor and sitting you down in his desk chair instead. He’s a bit rough, his vision clouded by the sheer want to fuck you until you were screaming his name, until his name was the only word your pretty little brain could recall. He abandoned his phone and instead had his hands drop to the armrests of his desk chair, encasing your body as he towered over you. Your skirt was immediately shucked up your waist and Katsuki’s hands went to work on your panties. He ripped them off completely, tossing them aside without a care as to where they went. He gazed down at you with fervour, licking his lips at the sight of your dripping cunt.

“Who’s pussy is this?” he coaxes with a grin, teeth shining. His hand slipped between your thighs, his index and middle finger tracing up and down your slit. Goosebumps erupted across your skin, your thighs instinctively closing around his hand. Your face bloomed with warmth, eyes darting away from his cocky demeanour, “Baku—”

Your body jolted as a firm smack was delivered to your sensitive pussy, a wet, lewd sound meeting your ears as he did. It made a high pitched, whiny moan be pulled out from your throat.

Fuck.

“Try again,” he ordered, tone demanding and almost condescending. His lips ghosted yours yet he never had any intention of moving close enough to seal the gap between the two of you. You whimpered, eyes meeting the dark red irises that were staring straight through you.

“‘S yours, daddy.”

“Now that’s a good fuckin’ girl.”

His lips found yours, teeth tugging at your bottom lip hard enough to make the warmth in your stomach double. The liquid heat had been building ever since you walked in, and you were fairly certain that you weren’t going to last much longer.

He hooked your knees over his elbows, biceps flexing as the muscles in his arms supported your full weight. He picked you up with such ease, your arms flying around his neck as you squeal, gasping at how little effort that took him. He was a pro-hero in training, of course he had practiced lifting people up no matter their body type or size. Either way, it didn’t matter to him. He thought you looked rather angelic clinging onto him regardless. He wasn’t even breaking a sweat with his hands spreading your cheeks, grunting as he adjusted you in his arms. He slid slowly into your slick cunt inch by suffocating inch, your walls fluttering and enclosing around his throbbing cock. Katsuki’s breathing was unsteady, eyes watching your expression intently in hopes that this new position would give you as much pleasure as it was giving him. His ego was running rapant from how you were holding onto him for dear life. You were practically shaking in his grasp, mouth open in an ‘o’ shape as all you could do was gape at how deep he reaches within you. You were keening, eyes hazed with lust and nails digging crescents into his shoulder blades hard enough to make him hiss.

When you finally catch your breath and adjust to his size, you give him a curt nod as an indication for him to start moving. Slowly, he lifted you up off his cock until his head kissed your entrance before allowing gravity to do most of the work. This position had his cock nudging your cervix and it made the knot in the pit of your stomach squeeze further, threatening to snap with every loud smack of his balls echoing through his dorm room. He pistoned into you like that, reaching deeper to rearrange your insides. It was like your entire body was being engulfed with pleasure and fire. He took in your face, how it scrunched in pleasure, hair sticking to your face as you mumble out how much you want to cum, how much you need to cum.

“Fuckin’ tight just for daddy, hah?” he cooed to you, “You wanna cum all over my cock like a little slut? You were watching me from the door jerking off for you. Dirty fuckin’ girl. Who’s making you feel good? Say it. Spit it out.”

“You!” you moaned, your head feeling light from the way the veins on the side of his cock rubbed your walls, “You, daddy. Please let me cum. I w- wanna cum!”

“I can’t hear you,” Katsuki rumbled, eyes steeled before you unmoving and unwilling to give you permission just yet. “Please!” you begged, “I’m a dirty girl. I’m your dirty girl, daddy! Please let me cum!” You were too engrossed in your pleasure to have any semblance of shame. Katsuki grinned. That’s what he wanted to hear. He let out a tiny ‘tch’ before uttering out, “Then cum, slut.”

Without another word, you let out a final wanton moan, gushing around him as the liquid heat finally expels from your body. Your orgasm hits you in waves, your body quivering with each new sensation as you hold Katsuki’s cock within your cunt. Your nails leave angry red marks along Katsuki’s shoulders, ultimately sending him hurtling towards his own release.

Cum dripped down his twitching cock, your chest heaving as your legs feel like jelly. Tingles shot down your spine as Katsuki pumped rope after rope of his sticky cum well enough to paint your inner walls white. He helped you ride out your high, delivering harsh bitemarks to your neck to leave a mural of hickeys claiming you as his. The smile he gives you is cocky, prideful, and arrogant. He placed you back down on his desk chair, your thighs still going through the aftershocks of your high. Reaching for his phone, he tapped the app icon for his camera. He knelt down, chuckling as your fingers slid between your legs to spread your lower lips for him. His cum seeped out past your slit, leaking down to your puckered asshole.

“There we go. Aren’t you daddy’s good girl, hm?”

Tiredly, you nodded.

“‘M daddy’s good girl.”

all works © eijishimas 2021. do not reuse, modify, or repost.

tags:

@lonleyweeb77 @cynthus-no @lonelyheart-cluband @smhhyung @stoopidnekobish @kiridarling @kirislilrock @baku-deku1 @hajisuu @damnitcrowley @foruthemoon @peaxhcringe @justanotheruselessextra @izukuuarchive @katsuki-kitten @shokoarashi sorry i couldn’t tag all of you!

want to be on the taglist? see here.

#bnhacity #bnha smut #mha smut #bnha x reader smut #mha x reader smut #katsuki bakugou smut #katsuki bakugo smut #bakugou smut #bakugo smut #bakugo x reader smut #bakugou x reader smut #katsuki bakugou x reader smut #katsuki bakugo x reader smut #eijishimas.oneshots

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hanazou · 4 years

Text

matching onesies with him.

Books : Dazai | Chuuya | Oda

Shelf : Mixed

Genre : Fluff, domestic

Note : I did this of my own accord because I am, in fact, a softie

Dazai Osamu

This clingy crackhead.

Dazai will be the first to come up with the idea. It's actually a random one and he asked it so spontaneously, he doesn't expect you to actually say yes.

"Sure, why not?" You agreed.

He's both surprised and elated, and he didn't hide this reaction at all.

"Oh, darling!" He wrapped a hug around your neck. "You always revive my heart with your love!"

You both will be enthusiastic about picking the onesies and agree to surf the net instead of looking from shop to shop since Dazai is under the supervision of a certain angry Kunikida

It almost feels like babysitting. Not that you hate it right? Should you get an identical pair with different sizes? Or complementary ones?

Dazai will call the customer service to ask if they have black crow onesies since crows represent death in some cultures. The response is obviously no and it's obvious that the customer service was confused.

"That's a shame," Dazai whined disappointedly, shoulders dropping. "Wouldn't it be both cute and poetic if we had a double suicide while wearing matching crow onesie? Two achievements in one!"

At that point you wouldn't even be surprised anymore. You will just take the phone away from him to apologise and thank the customer service. You have to convince Dazai that you won't find a onesie of that kind

"Wait, don't tell me," You stared at him. "The reason you want to get onesies is just to wear a matching crow pair?"

"Is it?" He grinned mischievously. "Maybe you're right, maybe you're wrong, but I just want to match with you."

Other ADA members will wonder what you and Dazai were doing, Kunikida the most. He isn't exactly curious, more like suspicious. What's that good-for-nothing Dazai up to now?

Eventually you find a pair of identical ones. Kind of rare designs too! Guess what?

Crabs! In red! The little eyes on the hood!

It will take less than a week for the onesies to arrive in a small box. When it does Dazai will pull out a cutter so energetically Atsushi will think he's going to pull a suicide attempt with it

"AAH! Dazai-san! No!"

Nothing will happen aside from Dazai stabbing the box (while making sure he doesn't cut the onesies inside. he's good with blades, ex Port Mafia and all)

The crab pincers for your hands are soft like mittens and so smooth???? Imagine sweaterpaws but with crab pincer mittens (!!)

It will take everything in you to stop Dazai from wearing it that instant since a client Fukuzawa talked about will be coming. You will need Atsushi's help to take it off him but let's not talk about it

Both of Dazai's legs are already in the onesie too..

It seems like Kyouka wants one. Yosano and Naomi will tell Atsushi to buy the girl one and match with her

When Dazai and you go home together, he will be so excited to wear the onesies immediately. Dazai will be light on his feet.

And when you finally put yours on? Pictures. Dazai will take lots of pictures of you. You're a piece of art and he wants pictures so he can recall the image anytime

"Oh, dearest~ How is it possible for you to be so cute?" He began his dramatic poses, a hand over his head while spinning like a ballet dancer.

You both will take a lot of couple pictures.

"Love, you are so adorable I want to eat you!"

"Is it me who's cute or the crab?" You teased back.

When Dazai makes a troubled expression to answer your question, you will have to pinch him 💢

If you can cook crab soup, wouldn't it be funny to make and eat one with Dazai while wearing crab onesies? He will be so clingy when you do it, like an old school married couple; when you cook, he'll be bugging you while hugging from behind. It feels cozy, don't blame him

You have to be keen with your eyes so you won't miss Dazai secretly pouring ajinomoto to the soup. Get him a healthier diet, I'm begging you.

"Look, the crab is red like us." He pointed at the soup. "And like your face when I do this." He took advantage of you turning your head to peck your cheek.

He will also pinch your nose with his pincer mitten. "Boop!" It's a challenge. Boop his nose back.

You think he's already as clingy as he can be, huh? Wrong. You are absolutely wrong. If he previously sticks around you like a magnet, this time he's glued to you.

Even in the shared living space, he won't let you go. Is it the softness of the onesie under his touch, the warmth, or your cuteness? Well, it's all of them. What then?

Snuggles.

You both cuddle together in the futon until falling asleep together. You feel twice as warm.

He's the big spoon, let him feel the smoothness of the onesie while feeling your heat. And for once, the double suicide joke stopped for the rest of day. That's how much this impacts him, and you're proud of him.

Nakahara Chuuya

Matching with Chuuhuahua in a onesie? You lucky fella.

You have to be the one initiating it with Chuuya. Baby boy will be like "Eeh?" at first. He's not against it at all but more like, confused. The request is out of the blue

"Come on, why not?" You tilt your head. "It will feel so soft to cuddle with?"

That's it, that's the spell for him to agree

Mans is a Port Mafia executive, you can't go out from shop to shop in a mall to get your onesie with his schedule, so you have to settle with online shopping with this guy too

Only when he has time to spare from beating up people

You will sit together on a couch at the headquarters once Chuuya and you don't have missions. It's a good chance to relax and unwind together too

Chuuya knows best where to find clothes, including onesies. There are so many options! Dinosaurs, frogs, bears, Sanrio characters, Doraemon, Pikachu, Line characters, pandas, unicorns, penguins!! (I should stop fantasizing Chuuya in each of them)

Chuuya will act cool and chill about it at first, but he actually got invested in choosing and thankfully he isn't a crackhead unlike a certain someone

He has a good fashion sense I don't accept criticism, and this side of him will jump out while both of you scroll the catalogue. He nails both street wear and mafia outfits daily, so you can bet he'd pick the best onesies for you both

"This one doesn't suit you," He moved to the next option. "These are the only colours available? Pass.", "What's with the unnecessarily long tail?", "Oh maybe this? Wait, I don't like the stripes."

Of course, he will listen to your opinion too but since you feel he's better at this, you just either nod or shake your head with him

You have to be careful with your words when picking the size (this is much more valid if you're taller) or he'll go "I'm not that short!"

Kouyou and Mori (+ Elise) will catch you both on the couch together while browsing, comfy and all, and Kouyou asked what you two were doing. Chuuya's face will be as red as wine.

When you want to explain, his gloved hand will cover your mouth and he frantically shakes his head, screaming "Don't!" silently.

But alas, while you want to tell him there's nothing to be embarrassed of, Kouyou will take the phone from your hand with a curious grin and a "What's this~?"

Chuuya will just accept fate at that point, growling to himself and all

Kouyou and Mori won't expect to see a catalogue of onesies, apparently. The "Huh," on their faces are hilarious, and Mori will be instantly inspired to get a full set for his Elise-chan, much to her distaste.

While Mori and Elise are going at it, Kouyou will actually share her opinions. Chuuya will crawl out from his burrow of embarrassment and listen to her with you.

"Rather than identical ones, these would be much better. They have variety." Kouyou said. And you both will agree. You both have been eyeing a specific pair anyway

You both will decide to get complementary ones! Chuuya's will be a brown teddy and yours a white bunny! (Try googling Line's Brown and Cony, they're cute you won't regret it) Kouyou will totally agree with the decision.

When the package arrives, both of you will open it together. Chuuya's eyes for clothes are never wrong, the quality is immaculate. So warm and smooth, not a seam out of place.

Imagine the blush on Chuuya's face when you put on the white bunny onesie. The bunny ears on the hood! The fluffiness! His flustered face!

He will be slightly hesitant to put his own on, but when he does, you swear you can die from the cuteness. Want to see more cuteness? Tease him about it, and maybe he'll tickle you down until you're too breathless to tease him.

Chuuya doesn't want to say it explicitly but it does feel really comfortable, it's suitable for winters too.

As usual, Chuuya will be the big spoon. You will melt into his warmth and the smoothness of his onesie, and you can tell he's enjoying it too, from the way he'll drag his hand all over you to feel the smooth fabric

"It's a good thing we listened to ane-san's suggestion, hm?" You asked. "I didn't exactly like the matching penguin pairs."

"Yeah, this isn't bad at all." Chuuya admitted, snuggling his chin into the crook of your neck. "You're so warm."

Oda Sakunosuke

First off I'm Odasaku's lover before I'm anything else.

When the weather gets cold, it's your idea to get onesies for the kids. They could use some cute onesies to sleep in.

Unlike Dazai and Chuuya, Odasaku will have time to spare to go shopping with you. Being the handyman of Port Mafia has its good sides, after all.

The atmosphere is identical to a date! You both meet up at evening after work, have a simple dinner first, then start the shopping. Shopping for the kids' onesies with him makes you feel like a parent doesn't it?

Odasaku and you will make sure not to pick flimsy, thin, or rough ones. Only the best for the kids. Both of you put your keen eyes to use, examining every considered piece

Odasaku and you will definitely discuss whether to get five identical or different ones. After considering that the kids have different personalities, choosing different pieces will sound more ideal. You both will grant them the liberty of picking themselves.

"We just have to make sure they don't fight over it." Odasaku said.

Lion, dinosaur, piglet, panda, and penguin. That's what you both will choose!

Odasaku is a man who doesn't wear his emotions on his sleeves, so you relied on his eyes when it comes to him. You will see love and sincerity. He picks each piece with careful consideration.

The store clerk will throw an unexpected (yet clichéd shoujo) question at you both. "You picked such good choices. We have sets for adults too, why not match with your children?"

Odasaku and you will widen your eyes. First of all, parents? And match? Both of you stare at each other in confusion. Should you get two get a pair for yourselves?

"Why not?" Odasaku eventually said.

Odasaku's will be a brown dog and yours a white cat (remember that one official art of Odasaku with puppy ears? <3)

Odasaku and you will immediately visit the kids and give them their onesies. Their excitement in picking one for their own made you smile, and you can see the joy in Odasaku's eyes when the kids thanked him and you. He doesn't smile, but you don't need him to just to know he's glad his children love your pick. The way he pats their heads already speaks volumes of love.

Thankfully no kid wrestled to get what they want. You were especially concerned Kousuke will compete with someone

Odasaku will bring a secondhand polaroid he once bought at Yokohama's flea market to take pictures of the kids. You will herd the children to gather for the picture while Odasaku looked for the right angle in the other side of the room.

"Why don't you stay there for the picture too?" Odasaku asked you, half of his face behind the camera.

You kneel behind the kids and put your hands on Sakura and Yuu's shoulders, the ones who stood on the far left and right. That much is enough to warm Odasaku's heart, but when you too, smile for the camera, he freezes for a while to take the sight with his eyes

The picture comes out nicely. You will end up convincing Odasaku to take more but with him in it, together, all seven of you. You would need the curry diner owner's help to take the picture

"Sakunosuke, smile, will you?" You held his shoulder while you both kneeled behind the kids for the picture. He would be a little stunned

He smiles, but it was faint. Nevertheless, you recognise the content in his eyes in the photo, and it's enough.

When it's just the two of you in the living quarters, you will have to remind Odasaku that he too, bought a onesie. He will gladly put it on him since you look so eager, he's curious how it feels too

Your heart stops when he put on the hood with the puppy ears. You will have to fight back the urge to attack him with cuddles right there and then when his confused and innocent face matches the onesie so much!

"You're adorable," You smiled half teasingly, taking in the look of confused Odasaku who looked down at his onesie. The weight of the material felt right, it's like a cozy blanket.

"Try to put yours on," He says. When you did, his heart also missed a beat. The kitten ears on your head! The pure snowy white on you!

Odasaku is a bear hugger and when he hugs you, his embrace will feel tighter than usual. It's no surprise, he likes you and cats, and the way you interacted with the kids that day played tricks on his heart. You hug him back and ruffle his head while he mumbles his thank-you's at you

That night's sleep will be filled with nothing but cuddles of love and adoration. Yes, Odasaku is the big spoon, but you will also hold his arms tighter around you as you both drift into the night, chatting about life.

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getouisms · 4 years

Text

[ - 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒

𝐂𝐇 𝟎𝟓 - Loud Laughs

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: Y/n, a 22 year old successful model is tired of the tabloids shaming her about her dating status when she’s seen out with her friends. Unsure of what to do to stop the gossip, Oikawa suggests a fake boyfriend. Fortunately, Kenma knows the perfect person who’d go for an idea as stupid as that one.

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 … 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 … 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭

“You’re being stupid,” you whisper to your reflection, watching your hands shake from nerves.

It’s stupid to be so nervous after spending almost the entire day with Kuroo yesterday and feeling so relaxed. Is it because you’re going to be one on one with him? Kenma was there yesterday, easing most of the tension if there was any. A soft sigh left your lips as you walked away going to your bedroom, deciding to at least be in a comfortable spot for this phone call.

He didn’t have to call; you mull over as you lie down. You don’t call to talk to your friends about their day often unless it’s a bad one. He’s probably nicer and calls his friends. A smile finds its way to your lips upon thinking that maybe he’s only nice like this with you. You wipe that away quickly, shrugging the thought off and dismissing it. He is just a friend, and you have no business getting into anything like that, anyway.

The phone vibrating against the soft comforter interrupts your train of thought. Swallowing the lump of nervousness, you pick it up and accept the call.

“Hello,” you start, voice laced with a thin veil of nervousness.

“Hey,” Kuroo’s voice sounds deeper on the phone, but he sounds relaxed, tired even.

It took his voice to wash over you for you to relax. Reminding yourself that no, it wasn’t Kenma that made you feel so comfortable, but Kuroo who made you feel relaxed. Any nervousness went out the window when he almost snorted Sprite out his nostrils.

“How was work? You sound tired,” you comment, smiling as he chuckles; laying back against the mattress.

“God, it was good but tiring. I want to hear about your work instead,” he asks, making you hum out faintly as you look over your nails.

“There isn’t a lot to it, really. I have a gig tomorrow, which consists of taking pictures and following pose guidelines. The rest of it is maintaining brand deals or updating my portfolio, auditions, socializing with fans, always looking marketable pretty much,” you conclude. A thoughtful hum fills your ear from the other side.

“Does the drama prevent you from appearing marketable?” Kuroo asks, and you can’t help but note the genuine curiosity in his tone.

It’s not like no one has taken an interest in your profession, but it is the first time someone’s cared enough to ask questions. Or appear genuinely interested besides seeing you model or asking if any other models are single. It’s pleasurable to have someone ask you about the in’s and out’s of your job.

“Not really? It is embarrassing when people I work with are dragged into it, but they understand, it’s not their first rodeo with a model. It’s a personal annoyance above anything else,” you mumble, sighing out quietly but feel a small smile returning once his warm laugh fills the microphone.

“Why are you laughing?” your smile turned into a laugh as you ask.

“I just got the mental image of a rumor about you and Kenma dating,” his laughs wheeze as they break up his sentence.

You already know he has a loud laugh that people could perceive as obnoxious, but his laugh only encouraged your own. It’s nice to laugh alongside him, plus he says nothing about your own loud laugh. He couldn’t say anything really, he sounded a little demonic if it was a laugh from the gut you’ve noticed.

“Oh my god, he’d stop being my friend for sure,” You laugh alongside him.

Your laughter continues for a few more moments, but when it quiets down, it isn’t awkward on either end. Your stifled laughter fills the call with little small giggles as you go back and forth telling one another to cut it out. Your laugh makes him laugh, you’ve noticed. When his laugh cools down, and you laugh, his laughter starts right back up again.

It took you both a few extra minutes to get yourselves together, but eventually, the stifled laughter turned into silence. A comfortable silence, and finally, Kuroo clears his throat with a relieved sigh.

“I thought my stomach was going to fall out from how funny that was,” He comments, making you giggle softly.

“Kenma’s hilarious, that’d be a funny situation for him. How long have you guys been friends?” You ask since Kenma didn’t tell you much besides playing volleyball back in high school.

“Since middle school. I didn’t really leave him alone, but he’s the person I can count on for anything. Hopefully, he knows it’s the same in return,” Kuroo mumbles, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

You’re nodding along, forgetting he can’t see you, which makes your hand slap across your forehead; a small wince spreading across your face.

“I can’t believe we haven’t been introduced,” you smoothly deliver, but you can hear the faint chuckle on the other line when the slap reverberates through the microphone. If he heard it, he won’t say anything.

“He’s a private guy, I didn’t even know he was friends with you. Bokuto almost passed out since you’re his favorite model,” Kuroo chuckles out, making you laugh softly.

“Atsumu is on his team, I can’t believe he didn’t tell Bokuto we were friends either. I’d like to meet your friends sometime,” your voice comes out hopeful, a hum of agreement emits.

“You can meet them anytime. How about your friends? I need details on Kenma’s secret life,” Kuroo’s voice raises out of intrigue, making you playfully roll your eyes with a growing smile.

“I met Kenma by tweeting that I really liked his stream, and he thanked me for the support, and I guess I grew on him. Tendou I’ve known since we were kids, our moms are friends, he’s that friend you can make peace signs with and cry taking selfies,” Kuroo’s laughter makes you pause, a faint flutter of your heart has you skipping a beat, “Oikawa and I met at a networking event. His agent wanted him to model my agent was trying to market me, and we both ended up meeting and hitting it off. Atsumu actually slid into my DMs to ask me on a date, I rejected him but we became great friends,” you finish, smiling at his faint laughter.

“I admire the guy for staying your friend after being rejected. They sound cool, I’d like to meet Kenma’s double life friends. He’s like Hannah Montana, I feel like Lily when she found out,” he sounds remorseful, voice wavering to not laugh at his own joke, but thankfully your laugh covered it.

“You can meet Kenma’s secret organization of friends. They’re all amazing, I just have to give Atsumu a stern talking-to since he can be an asshole sometimes,” you mention, voice soft.

“Protective asshole or just an asshole? He can’t be as bad as Kenma,” Kuroo jokes, it doesn’t fall flat on you.

“Protective. He’s smelly, but he’s one of my most cherished friends,” your voice is soft still, Kuroo matches it.

“I know we called to talk about our day, but I’m glad Kenma introduced me to you. Talking to you is relaxing,” he pauses, you feel your cheeks heat, “it was crazy in the office today so you took the edge off if that makes much sense,” he finishes.

“It makes sense, I’m glad Kenma introduced me to you too,” you agree.

“Awesome, talking to you saves me time from listening to Boyfriend by Big Time Rush for some stress relief,” he sighs out, as if genuinely relieved.

You didn’t know, but he grins on the other side of the phone upon hearing your loud laugh.

𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭: Kuroo told Y/n one chemistry joke, don’t believe atoms they make up everything, and she did laugh.

𝐚/𝐧: Greetings!! So this was a fun write, don’t be shy send me asks and let me know your thoughts! I love reading all your comments it’s so fun thank you guys for reading!!

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 [𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃]: @tepescelsius @elianetsantana @honeymoneyy @a-wannabeweeb @oceanblooming @princeabomination @kagebunshiin @tadashi-simp @unicorngluttony @tamaguchi @sunflowerirl @snowsmuse @cherrytiara @tsukkisbean @iwaizoom @aegeanblues @angyboibakugo @manic-punker @miyayassy @kozumecuddles @starry-magicshop @agaashesmilktea @amarillyis @saturnfarie @yamaita @ptv-hades @runningwitches @missalienqueen @fo-love @shiningstar-byulxx @appleciderslut @amberisnotcrazy @drizzlenfizzle002 @satorisupremacy @vicassa @angrylittleriri @vyisa @boosyboo9206 @skylarkalchemist @yeahhemmings- @akaashikeijisthighs @bellesowl @yakus-yakult @shut-your-eyes-kiss-me-goodbye @heyyourecute @fi16ns @yuuuumiiin @carpecaelo @awkwardly-anxious-latte @crybabbicus @felix-issimus

continued in comments

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bangtae-sohotddaeng · 3 years

Text

we’ll be counting stars | k.th. | 4

(^ gif cred: ON THE VOYAGE | pinterest)

pairing: idol!Taehyung x publisher!Reader

rating: nc-17 (for language and themes)

summary: You’d sworn off love and relationships forever. You were here to do your job - work with the biggest boyband of the world. Not forge friendships and...and whatever it was that you and Taehyung were building up with these sneaky glances. It was, to be very fair, your Chief Editor’s fault that you’d landed in this mess. Maybe you should quit your job? Maybe you should quit life -

Oh, he was staring again, and did he freaking lick his lips?

warnings: swearing (reader’s got a potty mouth) + this is set like 5 years in the future + reader has emotional issues, she's a relationship phobe + mentions of weed

genre: so much ANGST ugh + fluff + comedy + some crack

words: 4.6 k

note: hey, y'all. i know i've been awol and i'm really sorry about it, but, well - first i went back to uni for a while and got busy with my classes and my boyfriend. but this lasted for, like, barely three weeks, and then i came back home and got covid. yep, i finally got unlucky. my parents got it, too, after me, and the three of us had been home quarantined and getting treated for the past month or so. we're in better health now, though, so i'm getting back into writing. here's hoping i pick up speed super quick! 💜

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series masterlist

gimme feedback, much much appreciated!

Your first week of heading this project with all its roadblocks and exhaustion, as it turned out, had merely been a taste of what was to come.

Your Wednesday at work began on a positive note, though.

Towards the middle of the day, your phone rang, making both you and Jungkook jump.

Cursing, you pursed your lips at Jungkook apologetically, and fished the device out. He nodded at you with a chuckle.

Looking at your phone screen, you realised this was a call you'd been waiting for.

“Hello?” you answered.

“Hello, ma’am. I’m calling to inform you that we’re done.”

Your eyebrows immediately hiked up your forehead. “Wow, really? That’s great news!”

“Yeah, the cleaners will be in tomorrow morning. You can move in by tomorrow evening.”

You actually grinned. “That’s such fantastic news! Thank you so much, Mister Lin. I’ll initiate your payment later, today.”

“Anytime, ma’am. Thank you.”

You disconnected the call with a happy sigh. Jungkook squinted at you. “That sounded like a fun conversation.”

You nodded, smiling. “Our team is moving into an apartment, tomorrow.”

“Wow! You’ve been in the hotel for what, ten days now? Must feel nice!” Jungkook’s eyes sparkled.

You nodded with a sigh, shutting your eyes in relief. “Oh, yes. We’d made reservations at the hotel for fifteen days. We had to move into the apartments within this week. This feels so amazing. I’ll finally be able to prepare my own food.”

Jungkook giggled at that, scrunching his nose up. “Where’s the apartment? Hope it isn't too far.”

“Oh, no, it’s a few blocks away from here. Which is why we had to book a hotel in the first place. We needed two four-bedroom apartments on the same floor, in this specific radius, in three days.” You paused to laugh when Jungkook’s jaw dropped with a gasp. “It was a very hard find. But our agent was sharp, he did a great job.” You clapped your hands together. “I cannot wait to check out of the damn hotel.”

Jungkook nodded in understanding. “Hotels are hard. It could be a seven star luxurious penthouse, but you’d still wanna run away from it after a while.”

He seemed to be speaking from his personal experience, but running away from a seven star luxurious penthouse? You couldn’t relate. You hated your hotel because the curtains weren’t dark enough and the mattress was stiff and you couldn’t afford getting any of them changed. You also hated having to order Chinese every single day, but you also knew you’d be emptying your bank account if you got anything else.

None of this would trouble someone living in a seven star’s penthouse. But you didn’t want to make Jungkook uncomfortable by stating any of this when he was just trying to be a bit compassionate and empathetic.

“Food doesn’t bother me that much, though,” Jungkook continued after a thoughtful pause. “We’re usually either on diets or order takeout. I personally hate the mattresses.”

“Oh yes,” you sighed deeply, the kink in your upper back in absolute agreement. “I’m not really a fan of sleeping anywhere other than my mattress back at home, but hotel beds are the worst of it.”

Jungkook chuckled, nodding. “I completely understand. You remember that story I told you about lugging my beddings over to our dorm when we first moved into one?”

You nodded with a laugh. “Oh, yes. The rest of the boys were getting new mattresses, and you were busy dragging your mattress from your parents’ house. It may sound hilarious, but it’s actually very relatable.”

Jungkook looked a bit bashful as he nodded. “You know, when we first started preparing for our first tour, I had a half a mind to take it with me.”

You barked out a loud laugh at that, the mental image of Jungkook dragging a seven by four piece of bedding around and stuffing it into trailers. He laughed, too.

“Yeah, it was funny and really stupid. Half the time we didn’t even get to sleep in the bed we had taken with us, but whenever we did, I was nodding off the second my head hit the pillow.” Jungkook’s eyes sparkled as he went down the memory lane. “That one was nothing in comparison to the tours we go on now, but it was our first ever experience so it was still pretty difficult adjusting, Tour schedule is a different level of hectic, you know? You don’t have time to eat, you don’t have time to sleep. Just rehearsals and fittings and sound checks. I would fall asleep in makeup chairs,” he confessed with a chuckle, shaking his head fondly, “and when noona would wake me up, I would recall how I wanted to bring my mattress here. Such naivete.”

You smiled, nodding along. You hadn’t yet gotten to the tour discussion yet, as it was planned out for the third month of your blueprint, so all of this was brand new to you. But, at this moment you didn’t want to bring up plans and blueprints. Jungkook was compassionately being candid with you. You were becoming friends, beyond your professional boundaries.

Sighing, you decided to impart something personal, too. “When I moved to the States and got into this company, I rented the apartment with an old friend who was already living there. And it wasn’t my first time living in a house away from my parents. I’d been a university student, lived in dorms then rented apartments, both solo and shared.” Jungkook looked at you pensively, nodding with a little furrow in his eyebrows. “But when I got to this apartment, got all this brilliant furniture set up, all new and fresh, I couldn’t sleep. I missed my home.” Jungkook’s eyes softened, lips pressing down into an understanding smile. “Not the dorm, not the studio I’d been renting—I missed my childhood bed.” You exhaled, recalling all your sleepless nights. “There's this connection you build with the place you call home. I’m sure you must have started to feel this way about your dorms as time went on.”

Jungkook softly smiled, nodding as he looked into space. “Very correct. Tour life made me realise this exact fact.”

You both sat in a few minutes’ quiet, basking in the nostalgic atmosphere you’d built around you.

Then Jungkook grinned at you. “Now you’ll get to experience real Seoul life.”

You laughed. “Oh, yes. And I honestly can’t wait for it. The local markets, the grocery stores, everything. Everything here is very unlike home.”

“I’m sure you’ll love it!” Jungkook exclaimed, wiggling his eyebrows smugly.

You went back to work soon after, with Jungkook tossing in questions about your move and suggestions about what all you should do in the city, every now and then.

It was a good, productive, joyous day. You were hardly even tired when you got back to your hotel to spend your last night on that stiff ass mattress.

Thursday had started off pretty much the same, except for you guys taking a slightly early departure to spare some extra time to set your new place up after your belongings were moved.

By late night, you were all settled in two, pleasant, well-furnished, well ventilated four-bedroom apartments, next to each other. Your housemates consisted of Sana and Simon. Needless to say, you weren’t a fan. But you needed a room to build the office in and you preferred it to be under the same roof as your bedroom because you tended to work odd hours when you couldn’t sleep. Simon and Sana volunteered to share the apartment with the office and you, so you didn't exactly have room for complaint.

From getting the apartment cleaned one last time to accept you all, to ensuring none of you had left anything significant behind in your hotel rooms—you didn’t trust the hotel staff enough to not misuse it if they found anything related to BTS in one of your rooms—you had been the one that took care of it all. It was kinda on you, because you didn’t trust anyone from your team to do the latter responsibly. So, quite naturally, you were dead on your feet by the time you got into your soft as a cloud beddings at nearly 3 o’clock in the morning. Sleep pulled you in the seconds you rugged your covers up.

You were very dead on your feet when you got to the BTS dorm, five hours after you’d gotten into bed. You hadn’t had a drop of alcohol in your system for more than a few weeks, now, but man did you have a hangover.

So it goes without saying that when you bumped into someone on your way to Jungkook’s studio, your eyes were half shut. You wouldn’t have thought much of it and might have slinked away with a mumbled apology, if not for the familiar voice than greeted you.

“Good morning. Looks like you had a rough night?”

You blinked, miles away from sleep within a second when your eyes met a familiar pair of brown ones. Taehyung was dressed in the routine BTS loungewear that consisted of a pastel t-shirt that was one too many sizes bigger on him and dark sweatpants that covered his feet. His hair was the usual black and curly, mostly pulled away from his forehead with a few tendrils dangling over his brows.

Your interaction with him had been meagre throughout this week, only consisting of respectful nods of greetings and waves of goodbyes. You’d meant to ask him how Simon was doing and how he felt about his ideas being taken now, after you’d had a talk with Simon about it. But you didn’t know what you would do if he said he was hating how things were and wanted you to do something about it. So you had kept your mouth shut and watched from the sidelines as you tried to gauge Taehyung’s inner feelings by his facial expressions.

He was an extremely closed off guy, never really letting his face show what he was truly feeling. But sometimes you would catch him looking into space as if he was zoning out of his conversation with Simon. Now, he could very well be thinking deeply about something Simon said—you really couldn’t be sure with the guy. But it had you worried, nevertheless.

God. Why did Simon have to pick out Taehyung’s name?

By the time you realised you’d been staring at him for too long, he had realized it too. “Anything wrong with my… hair?” he innocently questioned, threading his fingers through the front of it.

“No!” you yelped, making him flinch. “I mean, no, it’s not that. I, um. We were moving into our apartments last night and it got kinda late. My brain’s processing things a bit slow, today.”

Taehyung chuckled at that, nodding with his teeth on display. “It’s okay. Congratulations on the move. Hotels suck.”

You sighed. “Tell me about it.”

Awkward silence hung over the two of you as you looked at the floor, at your feet, at his feet, tried to discern if his pants were very dark gray or blue, cleared your throat, scratched your ear, met his shifty eyes again—

“How…how is working with Jungkook?”

His question caught you off-guard. You looked at him in surprise. “Uh…it’s, um. It’s good. Very comfortable, very productive. It’s great, actually.”

Taehyung nodded, pursing his lips as he looked down again. “Simon has been a better listener this week. Did you talk to him?”

A weight was lifted off your shoulders on hearing that. You grinned at him with all your teeth. “Really? That is really good to know. Comforting, even. I did talk to him, yes.”

Taehyung looked into your eyes as his lips spread into a slow, soft smile. “Thank you so much for doing this for me. I thought you would think I was stupid for demanding so much, but…” He shrugged his shoulder, one corner of his lips ticking farther up his cheek. “You made it work. I feel so much better now.”

You exhaled, willing your heart to not beat so fast. It was your job to ensure they were all comfortable, this was part of what you were getting paid for. But somehow, the way Taehyung seemed to have taken it so personally made you not wanna mention the fact in the moment.

Also, he didn’t know how this wouldn’t last. You’d been giving Simon tips to handle himself professionally around Taehyung, literally every single day. It kept the wheel running, but it was tiring both of you out, immensely. Simon was out of his element and you were getting slowly overwhelmed and under-rest due to the amount of responsibilities piling on for you. You were determined to talk this out with your boss, this Sunday, and find a way out before you broke.

Right now, though, you gave Taehyung a bashful smile. “I wanted you to be comfortable and feel good about working on this project, Tae. I am constantly working out plans to better it.”

Taehyung looked at you with so many emotions swimming in his eyes, that the intensity of it almost made you wanna look away. But you didn’t. Instead, you tried to decode what any of it could mean.

This time the silence between you two was not awkward in the least. It was charged—heavy with this unknown tautness between your mind and heart and this indecipherable look in Taehyung’s eyes.

“Tae?”

The trance was broken by Jin, startling both of you.

He walked into the halfway from behind Taehyung, peering around him with a frown. His eyes widened when he saw you. You immediately bowed, always extremely cautious about being respectful around BTS’ oldest member. “Good morning, Jin-ssi.”

He chuckled at your address, insisting that you didn’t have to bow every single time. “Just the respectful good morning is fine. Did you just get here?”

You nodded, subtly glancing at Taehyung whose eyes were slightly rounded and still stuck on you. Why was he acting like you two were caught by Jin? You’d just been greeting each other and catching up!

Right?

Right.

“Ah! There comes Riya!” Jin suddenly announced the arrival of his partner on your team, cutely waving at someone behind you.

Your teammate Riya walked into the hallway after you, having walked here on her own insistence. “Good morning, Jin-ssi. Taehyung-ssi. Boss.”

You smiled at her, nodding in acknowledgement of the respect she paid. “Where’s Simon?” you questioned.

“Just here!” the man himself responded, rushing in after Riya.

You met Taehyung’s eyes, and he nodded with a meaningful look and a small smile on his lips. Your heart felt light.

The unexpectedly happy and positive start you’d gotten in the morning lasted with you the whole day, making your time with Jungkook a lot fun, and fulfilling in terms of work, too.

When Sunday came in and you received your boss’ call, her first question was about how well you were settled in the apartments, followed by how you’d handled things with Simon. You had done a decent job on the former, but the latter was gradually turning out to be a pain in your ass. You told your boss as much.

“Drag it out for another week, and then design a change of gameplan. If he really isn’t doing a good enough job by himself, it’s better if he works with someone else. This whole charade will tire both of you out. And V would be facing issues, too, if Simon’s heart isn’t into it.” Your boss had looked at you solemnly through the computer screen.

“Simon’s heart’s a bit too much into it, boss, that’s the whole issue.” You had derisively chuckled at your joke, but her words had left you thinking into the late hours of the night.

Taehyung had definitely been facing issues, you’d heard it from the man himself. And the respite he thought he’d gotten this week was momentary, because neither you nor Simon could honestly keep up with it for too long. And it was very unfair to Taehyung. This book was supposed to showcase a part of all the boys. A biography was the culmination of one’s whole life—something very personal, precious and endearing. The process of its creation should have been a similar experience for the boys, too.

You really would have to assign someone else to Taehyung.

On Monday morning, you knocked at Simon’s door at seven.

“Just this week, and then you switch,” you told him.

“Really? Oh, my God, thank you so much!” Simon cried out.

“Please accommodate him the best you can.” You sighed. “I’m too tired to give you notes everyday. Will you be able to manage?”

“I’ll accommodate him the best I can, just as you said.”

You hadn’t taken his word for it, but it seemed like the knowledge of his misery ending soon had done Simon well. He did a fair job of maintaining his professional composure, and on Tuesday, when you went in to grab a cup of coffee from the kitchen, you saw the two of them laughing about something, too. Taehyung had politely greeted you, exchanging more than a nod for the first time in more than ten days—minus that one altercation in the hallway, of course—and then immediately went back into the discussion.

He seemed to be really into it.

It made you feel a lot better.

On Friday, you and Jungkook went for a walk by the pool in the late afternoon with a cup of ice cream in your hands. He brought up Taehyung, asking how the elder was doing.

“You told me he was having some trouble with his partner?” Jungook asked, biting into a huge glob of chocolate ice-cream like a maniac and braving the brainfreeze with a straight face.

You grimaced at the sight. Then exhaled, plopping a spoonful from your own ice cream into your mouth. “He’s doing a lot better, now. It might not last, though”

Jungkook, instead of quizzing your ominous statement, nodded in understanding. “Does it have something to do with what I told you about hyung’s personality?”

You sighed. “Pretty much. We might have to change his partner.”

Jungkook paused at that. “Is there a possibility that…” He trailed off, confused, doe eyes looking at you.

You couldn’t lie to him. You shrugged. “Everything’s on the plate.”

On Sunday evening, you decided to gather the team for the call with your boss. Sending them a quick message once you all got home, you hopped into the bathroom for a long, relaxing showe.

When you came back, you stepped into your office to the welcome sight of your team occupying bean bags and chairs and spread across the entire surface area of the place.

Collectively, you all brought up Taehyung’s partner with the Editor-in-Chief.

“Why don’t you do it, Y/N?” your boss questioned you after the rest of them had briefed her with their progress so far and detailed out their future plans with their assigned boys.

You sighed. “I have been doing just as great as the rest of them, boss. It wouldn’t be ideal for me to stop working with Jungkook after we’ve been making such great progress.”

Your boss took her glasses off, the highlight on her nose glistening as her movement caught light. She shook her and then sighed. “One of you is going to have to make a sacrifice.”

Simon, rightfully, flinched with a guilty face.

“So either you talk one of your team members into doing it, or you do it yourself. You’ve got one whole week to discuss it. Tell me what you decide, next Sunday.”

You kept tossing and turning in your bed. You’d either have to force one of your team members. Or you’d have to disappoint Jungkook. Your prospects really weren't looking good.

You would like to believe you and Jungkook had become friends in these three weeks. It is impossible to remain a stone-faced stranger with someone literally relaying the story of his entire life to you. And besides that, too, Jungkook was a very likeable guy. He was a curious soul with a myriad of interests. Taking notes on literally every topic would always branch out into an enthusiastic conversation between the two of you.

Sighing as you recalled how the two of you had shared your roller-skating experience with each other just today, you shut your eyes and decided to finally go to sleep.

On Monday morning, your team members were gathered in your new office to begin with the scripting process of the biography. As you got down to comparing notes and checking off boxes, each one of you resolutely ignored the gigantic elephant in the room—that fact that one of you would not be working with the same person when this week was up.

Strangely, this forcible change of partners was weighing down on all of you not just because of how much more labour it would cost, but on an emotional level, too. Which was a very unfamiliar concept, at least to you. You never got attached to clients, knowing it would only cause hindrances when you had to criticize their work—which was why they were talking to you in the first place. You had been somewhat lucky too, in a way, because it wasn't easy for you to get attached to people.

But Jungkook turned out to be just a really easy person to get along with. You really had become friends.

This, you suddenly realised, would also mean that Jungkook would make friends with another partner just as easily.

“Guys, remember—it’s not just their story that we’re writing, it’s ours too!” you announced to your team, clapping your hands to raise their spirits as the six of them worked on their computers. “They’re the narrators, sure, but we are the writers. Use your words wherever you find fit, do not hesitate to trim, omit or add. This is what we were hired to do.”

At noon, you all ordered takeout and took a break.

“We’re all really on schedule, boss,” Riya, Jin’s partner, spoke up from her spot across the room from you. Her rounded eyes narrowed suddenly, and she winced. “Well… except Simon, but we kinda already expected that.”

Simon, seated on a bean bag to your immediate right, cleared his throat. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“You’ve been really shitty at your job, Si,” Areum, Jimin’s partner, commented, looking at Simon through her round framed glasses, her face displaying disappointment.

“He really has,” you added. “But it cannot go on like this. You’ll have to be really professional with your partner, this time round, Simon. You’ve really done a lot of damage with Taehyung. Boss won’t just pull you off the project if something like this happens again, she’ll fire you.”

Simon visibly gulped, nodding with his wide eyes fixated on you.

“So, who’s gonna take his place?” Nathan, Yoongi’s partner, butted in, prompting Sana to stop stretching. “Have you decided yet?” he asked you.

You exhaled. “Why not ask dear Simon who he wants to work with? The last time he kept protesting about the assigned choice, and I didn't listen. Maybe he’d have done better if the selection of his partner was voluntarily done by him.”

All eyes turned to Simon. He cleared his throat, looking beyond nervous. “Please don’t put me in this spot. One of you will have to let go of a month’s worth of hard work for me, as it is.”

You looked around the room. “Any one of you willing to switch?”

Five pairs of eyes turned to look at you incredulously. “No one’s gonna willingly give their research up for you, Simon,” Charlotte, the only redhead on your team and Hoseok’s partner, spoke with a roll of her eyes. “None of us.”

“Simon,” You sighed. “Choose.”

And then Simon squeezed his eyes shut and fisted both his hands to whisper, “Jungkook…maybe?”

Of fucking course.

Later that night, you had calmed yourself down enough to tell yourself that everything was gonna be okay. You could be a darn hardass professional when you needed to be. In fact, being humble and empathetic was usually what posed a challenge to you. You would very smoothly transition into working with Taehyung, you were sure of it.

You belatedly thought about how much change these past three weeks had already brought about in your nature. You were starting to show a lot more compassion than you’d thought yourself capable of. That kind of came in this job’s description, because biographies made people vulnerable, and vulnerable interviews required compassion.

You had to unlearn some of the things you’d picked up over the span of your adult life to save yourself from hurt, and also the guilt that came with hurting others. Jungkook also helped, in a way. His openness and just the overall cheerful vibe that his nature eluded made you want to be more of a friend to him than a writing guide or an interviewer.

You wondered how Taehyung would be.

There was something undeniably intense and mysterious about him. Now, you weren’t naive enough to want to “unravel” the guy’s mysteries, but you sure were irked and curious. Maybe he was one of those kinds of artists that literally lived in their art.

Back when you didn’t work in this company with this hectic schedule and had enough spare time on your hands to write, you used to pride yourself to be one of these kinds of artists, too. You lived in your stories, kept building characters up wherever you went, whatever you did. You wondered if it was something similar with Taehyung for music.

You would find out, eventually. There was no point pondering it so much.

Sighing, you turned off your side lamp and decided to retire for the night.

Your writing week was gliding past smoothly. It was just Wednesday, and you all, ahead of the schedule, were at the verge of finishing up your writing parts.

“Are we super efficient or did we sign up for a longer duration of time than needed for this whole project?” Sana questioned, typing away on her laptop.

You snorted. “Or maybe, we didn’t design the blueprint with as much uniformity as we’re required to.”

“You don’t always have to critique everything, boss,” Charlotte, Hoseok’s partner chimed in, flipping her long mane of auburn hair off her shoulder as she shot you a look.

You glared right back at her. “Uh, actually, I do. That’s kind of my job here.”

You’d been harsher than was needed, making the whole room go quiet. Only the clicking of keyboards echoed around you all for a while.

“Where’s Simon?” Nathan, Yoongi’s partner, asked after some time.

You sighed. “In his room, finishing up his writing work there. He doesn’t feel comfortable sitting between all of us because, and I quote, y’all give off really judgy vibes that fuck with my concentration.”

“That might actually be true,” Areum, Jimin’s partner, mumbled in Korean under her breath.

“Did you mail Manager Woo about the switch yet, boss?” Nathan asked you as you got up to get a refill of your coffee.

You exhaled. “Nope, I'm stalling,” you confidently confessed, leaving the office to make a trip to the kitchen. On your way back, you knocked at Simon’s door before peeking in. “You doing okay?” you asked him flatly.

Simon gave you a nod, not moving his gaze from the laptop screen. You rolled your eyes and came back to the office.

“Should one of us do it? If it won’t look too unprofessional?” Sana asked.

You wrinkled your nose. “It would look grossly unprofessional, Sana.” You pursed your lips as you sat behind your laptop again. “Fine, I’ll do it right now.”

You took a sip from your coffee, and opened your email. This was final, now — no coming back.

You were officially gonna start working with Kim Taehyung.

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tinytonysnark · 5 years

Text

Ask Me Later

It’s Valentine’s Day.

Steve has a date with someone who isn’t Tony, on Valentine’s Day.

Tony is in Steve’s dorm room, on Valentine’s Day, helping him pick out an outfit for his date, who isn’t Tony.

God, his life sucks.

Natasha will no doubt laugh her ass off when he tells her once she’s finished gloating with her “I told you so’s,” and “I warned you this would happen,” but she’ll also let him eat all the ice cream she has so it won’t be too bad.

“What about this one?” Steve asks, pulling out a white cable knit sweater.

“God, no, definitely not the sweater. Move over, let me take a look at your closet,” Tony says, springing up from the bed to look at whatever Steve has in his tiny little closet.

“You know, this would be better if you’d tell me who your date is with,” Tony says, not turning to face Steve who’s sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Tony - I already to-”

“I know - I know, you’d rather not say. Just would make this whole process easier is all I’m saying,” Tony tells him, and doesn’t think about how his best friend not only doesn’t feel the same way about him but also isn’t even comfortable enough to want to tell him who he’s seeing.

He might need Natasha to buy extra ice-cream tonight.

He thinks that’s what hurts the most. That they’ve been friends for over a year now, and best friends for what feels like longer, and they’ve told each other everything. Well, almost everything. Tony being utterly and completely in love with his best friend notwithstanding.

But apparently Steve has not only been crushing on someone else and asked them out, but he’s also never, not once, mentioned any of it to Tony.

“I guess, something casual? Nothing too over the top or fancy, but like I’m making the effort, you know,” Steve tells him.

“So the vibe you’re going for on this first date, on Valentine’s Day, the day known for its capitalistic ideas of love and romance, is casual?” Tony turns, tossing one of Steve’s plaid blue and grey plaid shirts in the trash pile - items of clothing that may or may not disappear from his closet to end up goodwill, if he has anything to say about it. “Well, I'm sure that it’ll all go down great. Hey, out of curiosity, do you have wedding dates set? I hear Spring’s lovely.”

“Ha, you’re hilarious. Truly, I’m in stitches,” Steve deadpans and Tony throws - yet another plaid shirt- at his face, which he dodges easily.

“I mean, you know me though. It’s not like I’m the most casual guy around,” Steve shrugs. “I’m all about long-term planning.”

Oh. “Oh, so you really like them then,” Tony says, turning back to the closet. “Like, you want this for more than just a few dates?

“Well, yeah. Definitely,” Steve answers, with no hesitation and Tony feels like he just set himself up to be kicked in the lungs, repeatedly.

He takes a few steadying breaths, and when he thinks he can trust his voice says, “Well, your anniversary will always be easy to remember at least. V-Day. Oh, unless you forget, in which case, you’d be forgetting both dates, which, yikes.”

Steve laughs, his full bellied laugh and Tony doesn’t even need to turn and look to know he knows Steve has his head thrown back and there're crinckles in the corner of his eyes, the way there always are when he smiles.

“Here,” Tony says, turning to hand the clothes, and yup, he was right. There’s that smile and the eye crinkles. “White tee, these absolutely ridiculous skinny jeans and this jacket. Can’t really go wrong with a classic white tee. Especially not with your shoulders-” Tony says before he can stop himself.

Steve grins as pinks dusts on Tony’s cheeks. “Thanks Tony. Just give a minute while I change."

Steve heads to the bathroom and Tony flings himself onto the bed to scream into a pillow before, pulling his phone out oh his back pocket and rolling over to text Nat.

“Please, please tell me you’re stocked up on Half Baked?”

Nat responds less than 30 seconds later, “Oof, jumped right over Mint Choc Chip and PBC? It must be BAD BAD.”

“He’s got his whole future planned out with this perfect date and they’re gonna live happily ever after and I’ll have to bear witness to all of it -”

The bathroom door opens and Steve steps out and Tony turns his head briefly before going back to finishing his text to Nat but then his brain finally processes the image from his eyes and he snaps his head back, while also losing grip of his phone. Which falls onto his forehead.

Ouch.

“You look - Well, I mean I know I put it together so obviously you look great but -”

Steve smiles, all bashful and sheepish, the way he does and Tony thinks he's gonna combust. “Thanks for, you know, helping me look presentable. You know I'm not too good at this and Nat always says I dress like an old man but -”

“Yeah, don’t be alarmed if all your plaid shirts mysteriously go missing. And are somehow found in a dumpster. That happens to be on fire,” Tony tells him, standing from the bed.

“Okay, they’re not all that bad -”

“Not all of it is bad, but that pile over there,” Tony says pointing at the heap on the floor that seems to be nothing but a pile of plaid, “you’re never gonna see those ever again. We’re not even going to look at them too long.”

Steve laughs, “I don’t even get to say goodbye?”

“Marie says we should say Thank You, but I honestly don’t know if they deserve that.”

“We should always say please and thank you Tony, no matter what,” Steve says, and Tony can’t tell how serious he’s being.

“Oh hey, what time is your date?” Tony asks, tugging at Steve’s jacket to give his hands something to do. “Are they picking you up or are you? Or are you meeting them there? And where is there, by the way? And also, who are they?

Steve laughs, then scratches the back of his neck. “Well, uh, funny thing. I haven't actually asked them yet.”

“Uh, say that again? You just got ready for a date - which the other person is unaware is even happening in the first place?”

“Yeah. No need to repeat, seems like you got it the first time?

“Steve - who - WHAT - who does that?”

“I got too nervous to ask!” Steve says, cheeks going pink. “So I did this instead?”

“Okay. Okay, so what exactly is the plan here?” Tony asks, arms crossing. “You’re gonna - what? Show up and ask them, right then and there if they wanna go out immediately?”

“Well, the great thing is that I can just ask him right now, and if it doesn't work out, I'll just head back to my closet to change, no need to even leave the room, possibly for the foreseeable future, ever.

Tony tries not to go through the list of ‘he's’ that both Steve and him know and says, “So you’re gonna text him? Okay, great, do it.”

Steve’s stares at Tony with what can only be described as exasperation before pulling out his phone, which, okay, if anything - Tony’s the one who’s exasperated because who even does this-

His phone vibrates in his hand.

He thinks it might just be Natasha, probably wondering why he stopped replying mid text - but it’s from Steve.

Steve, who is standing right in front of Tony, giving him a hopeful look.

Steve, who sent him a text reading, "Hey, I’m wondering if you’re free for dinner tonight? I’ve got reservations at that fancy Italian place you’ve been wanting to go to for 6.30?"

Tony thinks his heart might be beating so loud, Steve can hear it. “Steve - are you- are you asking me-?

“To be my Valentine’s? Yeah,” he says, smile on his face. He juts his chin at Tony’s phone. “You gonna give me an answer?”

Tony tosses his phone onto the bed and drags Steve down into what is, objectively, one of the best kisses in Tony’s life. Steve’s arms circle around his waist and they’re both so close together, a piece of paper wouldn’t fit between them.

“Answer clear enough for you?” Tony asks when they pull apart, because hey, breathing is a thing.

Steve grins, “Don’t know, think I need a little more clarity,” before kissing him again and Tony’s brain promptly shuts down.

♡ ♡ ♡

They don’t make it to their reservation, but Natasha does attempt to break Steve’s door down to check on Tony since he wouldn’t answer her texts. She brought the ice-cream with her.

#stony #stevetony #marvel #tony stark #steve rogers #ficlet #I'M A DAY LATE!!#BUT WE'RE NOT SURPRISED #less that 1.5k #nisha writes

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inked-out-trees · 3 years

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⭐ for The Keep Going Song? Thanks! :)

(anh i would die for you)

Thank you for asking! I am going to be talking about the whole thing because it's fun, and because there's not really many ~secrets~ within the text to ramble about, just little fun snippets!

I'll do it under a cut because I will definitely ramble. Woohoo!

I came across The Keep Going Song (the song) after my Lookout 3 Companion Playlist (& my spotify discovery) introduced me to the Bengsons. The effect was almost instantaneous - it's the kind of warmth I try to encompass in everything I do, and for the next few days I had it on repeat as I worked. This was around the time I was finishing my Lookout script, and I had been toying with the idea of writing a Cornleyverse fic after absolutely devouring all 10 fics in the tag. What I knew was that I wanted it to be sweet, I wanted it to pull them all together, and I wanted it to be a progression. Despite only having seen the Goes Wrong Show, jumping into the fandom made me want to dimensionalize these characters and give them a story beyond everything that had already occured.

I also watched Christmas Carol before / during the writing process, but to date I have not watched Peter Pan or the full-length TPTGW. My prior knowledge comes from Wikipedia, the delightul amateur TPTGW production on YouTube, a friend's excellent transcription of the Haversham Manor script, and tumblr meta analysis. I think I did a reasonable enough job pretending I knew what I was doing.

Let's get going!

I knew off the top that it was going to be vignettes - they would give me room to spread the story over the long period of time it takes for a group of people to grow into something resembling a family. Like I said in the original author's note, there was supposed to be more of the early, snippy days - but I got so focused on making them kinder that I found I couldn't properly write a fight. In hindsight, it probably would have been easier if I tried writing that first, but, well. Once I realized that it was too late. The alphabet idea came later, once I had them all finished: I wanted to organize them somehow, but numbers felt too open, too infinite - closing the story on an organizational endpoint was just really satisfying.

a - Every good story needs a good beginning.

c - Starting with the end of Peter Pan is my sneaky way of slipping past the fact that I haven't seen the earlier shows! The Max and Sandra storyline is just so sweet, and I wanted to let it exist a little bit in between our jump from Peter Pan to Christmas Carol. This vignette came so easily when I wrote it and I love love love the feelings and the tentativity about the whole thing.

f - This was actually the last vignette I wrote. I realized I needed some front-end padding because otherwise my angst plot came rather abruptly, and what better way? At this point, too, I was trying to bring in POVs from each one of our characters, and when deciding on Trevor's POV I thought the exasperation-excitement combination would be an excellent choice. It turns out Trevor is my favourite to write, mostly because I can find his voice a lot easier than some of the others - and probably also because I hold a lot of fondness and nostalgia for stage crew work. Also, I wrote most of this one on a long evening walk in the notes app on my phone. Fun fact.

h - I did my original idea slam in a draft tumblr post, and this one just says "birthday party but one without all the drama of christmas carol". And what do you know, that's exactly what it is! I definitely took the birthday party (in CCGW as well as in this fic) as a kind of proof that they really do like each other, if they're doing things like this and if they want to do things like this - and that theme of okay, they want to be here formed the basis for this part. I think it's exceptionally sweet that Dennis came looking for friends and ended up finding, well, something. And I popped in a little MMNI reference with "one of the Janines" - Backwards Janine? Frontwards Janine? Original Janine? Who knows! It's one of them!

l - The thing about this plot is that it's actually one of the first ideas I had when dreaming up this fic, and I couldn't quite let it go. The point was, what if I somehow split them up? How can they get on when half the society is out of commission? And the most reasonable way I could find to actually get half of them out of commission was the car accident. To be honest, this one is mostly filler - it's also the second vignette I wrote, and it found its birth in the email drafts of my work laptop.

m - Trying to map out this little plotline without overdoing it might have been the most difficult part of this fic, and I'm still not 100% sure I succeeded. This is our explanation for the unease from the vignette above, and it took me 3 rewrites before I finally found something that settled in my brain. "Dennis gets chased by a goose" might be one of my favourite lines in the fic though.

Also, putting these letters right next to each other made me feel really clever for no reason.

n - My Jonathan perspective also took a few stutter-steps in its beginning, but this one ultimately came from the promo video's reveal that Robert and Dennis live together, and me playing with the continual idea of the remaining cast members being rather unmoored in their injured castmates' absence. Robert in particular because I love his character and I love making him Feel Things(TM) (fun hint: this will also be a small theme in the new cpds fic I have in the works!) and I want to see so much from this odd relationship between him and Dennis. Obviously they have to tolerate each other if they are willingly roommates - how far can I go with that? I love how this one turned out.

o - All I have to say about this one is that I still really love the sweetness between these two, and they deserve the world. Also, at some point during writing this I was really caught up with how striking Dave's face silhouette is (don't ask) so that ended up making it in somehow.

q - Girls' Night is SO important to me. After all the work they've done to make these gals friends I needed to capture it, and a pleasant night in just made a lot of sense. This one is the home of a few of my headcanons - Annie has a chef roommate and Max does a lot of the cooking, thus the "neither of us are the usual household cooks" comments, and I also think they're at the point where they can joke about their previous failures (especially with these three together) so the nod to A Trial To Watch (my favourite gws episode) was so fun. Also, Waking Ned really is a silly pick-me-up of a movie - would recommend. Special thanks to CBC for giving us Canadians quality British TV alongside our occasionally questionable homegrown programming.

r - It wouldn't be a fic about progress and growth with this crew without a disheartening moment turned into gold. I wrote this one while barbecuing, another fun fact, and no joke the hardest part was figuring out what to name the play they were doing. I kept pace with the whole "Jonathan can't get onscreen" gag, which was personally hilarious and made me cackle as I wrote it, and the rest of it just felt good. I will always have a soft spot for comfort and reassurance in a story and getting to write it has just been an absolute delight.

t - This was one of my other unplanned vignettes. It was originally to fill out Robert's POV, but also to express a bit of how things have changed in Chris's attitude towards his cast - if there's one thing I would change from Mischief's characerisation thus far, it's this brand of almost-kindness that I consistently need to write him with. It takes the aftermath of the car accident and uses it to kind of make him understand - this is a valuable group of people and I don't want to lose it. But of course he's not the type of person to actually express that in any way, so I thought the frenetic hovering was a good way to get the point across. As well, the kind-of-bonding between Chris and Robert - the two of them are such powerhouses of insistent personality that conflict so easily but they've also got a more secret kind of friendship that deserves to be explored a little more. I really like this vignette and how it ended up portraying how they are around each other, how they really do know each other, especially when they're not fighting. Makes me soft.

w - This is the first vignette I wrote! I honestly didn't realize until writing this just how much I identify with Annie - best of both worlds re. crew and cast, a bit of tenacity regarding getting through things, overall personality - I just love her so so much. She also seems like the most sensible of the cast, so the collective "why are we really here?" moment with Trevor really spoke to me. I love their friendship, I love the kind of quiet vibe this vignette gives off - this is one of the ones I can feel most strongly, the one I can step into and exist inside. I also spent most of my old drama rehearsals and classes without shoes, so that had to make it in just by virtue of the sock brigade (me).

z - One thing I knew for sure since the inception of the fic was that it needed to end on a victory. I took the images I had of this victorious adrenaline, everyone together having a good time, kind of getting smashed, and karaoke (I really wanted the karaoke, for some reason) and went the obvious route: the wedding. Ending on Chris POV also felt so right - possibly because he's the one with the most growth in this fic - and getting to finally feel this triumph with him after all these other trials and tribulations was an absolute joy. The wedding hall, in my head, looks like the one my cousin used (it was at a zoo... my sister and I went on a night walk and heard a lot of screaming peacocks) and I definitely threw all my wistfulness, all my love for the characters I'd developed, and all my love for this fantastic fandom into this part. The incorrect lyrics that Annie sings are exactly what I think every time I hear that song, because I've never looked up the lyrics before and my brain likes to play Mad Libs with my super-questionable auditory processing. And the image of the ballroom staff getting really exasperated with them and shutting all the lights off came to me at night and is hastily scribbled on a sticky note (it's a wonder it's legible) but I still strongly believe that it's the perfect, perfect way to end. I still get the warm feelings when I reread this part, even now, after so many reads.

And, finally - our end quote is exactly what started this whole thing. What is this drama society if not a rough beginning? But the concept that we'll make it through, that we can just take a step and then another and it'll be okay because we're together... it's hard to describe just how much it means to me, to my place in the world, to the world itself. I think one of my rather consistent aims in writing, no matter what it is, is to be able to have this collective - characters that become family, people that are important to each other, this constellation to lean on - because it's all I can say for the human experience. It's probably quite a bit of wishful thinking (as I said to another friend, "I am apparently letting loose on all my repressed social feelings of the past year and shoving them into fics") and a sort of subconscious confirmation that if I write it, I can be it. So this force of understanding and kindness and ultimately good people helping each other through the world is something I can't help but include, something that means the absolute world to me.

I'm so glad to have been able to share this fic with everyone, and extra glad that it's been able to touch some people along the way. I've found such an incredible community in Mischief and coincidentally I think The Keep Going Song represents that warmth, too - the community I've been so lucky to exist inside, how we're helping each other along, step by step. What a beautiful thing to be a part of! Thank you for reading and allowing me to give you a bit of my heart. 💖💖

#director's cut #the keep going song

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piraticalarchive · 3 years

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okay so for everyone who hates big corporations and management who takes advantage of their employees.. this one’s for you. it’s long but .... i find it completely hilarious.

so a brief recap: amy got fired back in march from a huge international retailer, yes? when things first started like they were going south, i worked on really re establishing a relationship with my brother who is like one level below C-suite (cfo, ceo, etc etc) of that same company because i had an idea in mind. March rolls around, amy gets fired .. and I’m like .. okay. time to put this in motion. but stress and depression obviously took the motivation away from me, but i continued to keep that line of communication up with my brother. we started talking weekly, sometimes twice a week via an actual call. well, i’m finally feeling better .. so this week i finally put my plan in motion. here’s how it went

stage 1: i sent a text to my brother asking if i applied to the store in my area if i could use him as a reference. he said, of course but every store is hiring so i’d look at any store besides that one. (which is already fucking hilarious but i digress) ... so i call the store and one of the managers who sat in on amy’s firing answers when i ask to speak to someone involved in hiring (oh lucky day). I start off with “hi! I’m sorry to bother you, but I’ve been looking for a job thats a bit of a change of scenery and my brother is the *insert position name* and works in *insert headquarters location* and he recommended i give the company a try despite that I had a less than stellar experience last time”. And this manager FALLS OVER telling me they are hiring for so many positions blah blah blah and then at the end when i’m like “thanks for the information! I’m definitely going to apply!” she’s like “of course! I’ll give our hiring manager your information so she can pull it immediately. Whats your name?” and i give my name and suddenly its just dead fucking silent... because they know who I am and they know that I’m in a relationship with amy and that i know what they did. But she recovers and is like ‘can’t wait to see your application!’ .. so.. okay. stage 1 was a success. but then, enter...

unexpected event: the store manager himself calls me. Starts off with some small talk, finally gets around to saying ‘so I hear you’d like to come back and work for us? I was looking at your previous application and I didn’t see any mention of the relation you talked about when you called”. And I’m like “oh, yeah... I don’t like using stuff like that because I’d prefer to get in on my own merit and skills and not by a family member’s position. Plus its like that show undercover boss, you know? I get to see what the place is like before they know. BUT given with what happened to amy, I was unsure if I’d even be considered without a reference like that” and he laughs nervously and is like “i totally get it. So did anyone know that you had a brother in that position?” and I’m like “oh i mentioned it once in passing to [amy’s manger] but I just said my brother was in corporate and there are a lot of levels so i think he just left it at that” and the store manager is like ‘haha yeah different levels but thats like ... its own level...” and we talk a little bit and he’s like “what made you want to come back?” and I’m like “like i mentioned before, the amy thing really threw me off. I was angry and the good thing about siblings is you don’t have to sugarcoat stuff. So I went to my brother and was like this is how you treat people?? are you kidding?? what about job security?? and i sent him the picture amy had snapped of her discharge papers where it listed the reason and he told me that, and everything else I yelled at him about, wasn’t the company’s way and that the store had seriously violated something. So for one, I now know that isn’t actually something that should have happened and two, i inadvertently brought this store to corporate’s attention and there are a lot of good people who work here, and they don’t deserve the consequences of that, so I want to help make it right” and he’s fucking sweating yall, I can hear it over the phone. and he’s like “fill out your application and put whatever you want down and we’ll call you and talk about positions and we can find a way to give you what you want” and I’m like “oh, don’t tell me that nick because your chair is looking awfully good right now” and he did a nervous laugh. SO, unexpected event made my plan even better. Then we get to:

Stage 2: I apply. I check literally every management position, including the one they fired amy from and also some hourly positions and put down ridiculous hours. I pass the manager test with flying colors and when it asks why i said i want to be a team trainer i wrote down ‘thanks to knowing the home office, i know how things should work and I want to help this store raise its position in the district and I know what policies aren’t being followed to help make that raise smoother.” I submitted the application, called the first manager I had spoken to and told her I had done so and she was like “I’m sure we’ll give you a call tomorrow!” ‘Tomorrow’ came and by 7 that night, they hadn’t contacted me. So I went to the ‘we’re hiring’ image they had posted on their facebook page like an hour previously and tagged my brother and was like ‘dude this is one of the positions at my store i was telling you about. think i could pull it off?” AND BAM ! they sent me a request for a phone interview at 8am the next morning. I scheduled my interview for later that afternoon at 2:45 and we enter Stage 3.

Stage 3: Amy and I go to the store to pick up a few things. It’s suddenly fucking spotless. There are no gaps in the shelves, the floor has been cleaned since the last time we were there (monday night and i called them tuesday and it is now white and shiny as hell) and they have the lights turned up all the way so you can actually see. EVERY FUCKING AISLE is perfect. Cat food? perfect. Funko pops? stacked and lined up perfectly. Video games? Filled. Clearance aisle? Perfect order. Like its super obvious they did a mad dash and tried to get the store in shape. So amy and I walk down every single aisle and point things out and kind of put our heads together and talk and I take out my phone and act like i’m texting etc .. basically we’re just fucking with people’s heads because the managers are nearby and they can see what we’re doing.

Stage 4: So later we’re home and 2:45 comes and goes with NO word. No phone call, no email, no hey can we reschedule. they FORGOT about the interview. I’m dying because they’re making it even better and even easier to fuck with them. So I text my brother (who KNOWS my mental health has been in the trash) and I’m like “I filled out an application just to see and they set up an interview and blew me off. You were right .. not a great help when it comes to the blues” and he was like “yep...i’d look at literally any other store” and talked to me a bit more about it. He was irritated that they’d do that and kept saying they were on thin ice. Finally at 5 they text me and they’re like “hey, this is the [insert store] and we’re sorry we missed your interview. I wanna apologize. Can we reschedule?” And I wait like an hour and a half (i was napping, i’ll admit it) but I respond with “I apologize for the late response, I had a prior commitment I had to take care of. Unfortunately, I reached out to someone [they know who it is. they know] in the off chance I had misunderstood the process since I hadn’t heard from you guys and I was encouraged to pursue opportunities at other branches in the area. Thank you for the original consideration and I hope you have a great day!” and they waited until 11am the next day to reply back which I’m assuming is because they were waiting for the higher up management to return to the store.

Come to find out the managers are still basically pissing themselves and freaking out because not only did they a) fire someone against company policy and now know the people at the top know and b) drop the ball and forget to interview a family member of said people at the top ... I got to add salt in the wound one more time by mentioning that my brother dropped in a lot (he doesn’t) and that I’d love to show off the store since it’s such a huge part of the community and it was looking better than I’d ever seen it look. And that it would be nice because he’d get the real experience since it wasn’t a formal, announced visit .... but, of course, that he’s salary .. so the policy is that he’s always ‘at work’ and obligated to take note of things.

so basically, i feel justified. Six and a half months of careful planning and maneuvering was totally justified. 10/10, I’d do it again. Let this be a lesson that patience in planning vengeance is completely worth having and I hope I helped make the store better for employees who aren’t management by putting the fear of god into them with the idea that my brother or anyone else from his office can just drop the fuck in whenever they want with a totally casual visit that could still fuck the management over completely. This is a good week, mates .. a very good week. Am I petty? yes. Do i hate their guts and feel like it was an entertainment that was totally worth it given what they did to the love of my life? also yes.

#also if they checked - i'm facebook friends with their international corporate lawyer. my brother obviously and the cfo who i didn't realize #at first was him bc he goes by a different name via facebook. like last name is the same but i think he uses his middle name as his first #i love it. i love it so much.#i planning on doing more stuff but i gotta take a breather and plan it carefully but #god i am L IVING #fuck that place #we laugh because i'm known here for messing with companies that fuck with people #and i did my best one like 3 years ago but amy was just like 'this is 10 miles beyond that'#long post //#i'm sorry for this but i just want to let everyone know the major reason for my incredible mood this week

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let-me-touch-your-soul · 3 years

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a loveless letter

I’ve been wanting to write you a letter for years now but I just haven’t been able to formulate my thoughts into words and I never knew when would be the perfect time to write. I was waiting for us to end so I can have the whole picture to reflect on but I no longer see an end in sight for us and this letter is probably going to be very messy with no plot at all, so just bare with me for now until I can write a better, more chronological letter. And let me just preface this by saying this is in no way me putting any blame on you, this isn’t me trying to call you out and paint you as the bad guy. This is just my side of our story.

We met when I was 4 years old, and all you were to me was my friend’s older brother, nothing more nothing less. I don’t know where exactly I crossed the line or you did, but you are no longer just that. You are now someone who stole my innocence and gave me a warped perception of this world and the word ‘love’. There is so much to say but let me try to start from the beginning.

When we first started talking outside of family functions, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I have no perception of time so I just like to say it all started when I was 12, but I’m pretty sure it was before that. We started talking and at that time you were just some guy I was interested in; it wasn’t even remotely close to a crush yet, I was just hyped about getting some sort of attention from an older guy. Don’t know where the lines blurred but suddenly you were making sexual advances to a little girl, someone who had no idea what some of the words you were saying meant, someone who was just learning about the horrors of the world, someone who was already getting their childhood and innocence stolen from them.

I just went along with everything you said and wanted because I didn’t want to disappoint you and didn’t want you to stop talking to me. I became obsessed with the attention you were giving me, well my body. As someone who suffered with an altered body image for as long as I can remember, I was basking in the attention you were giving to the physical parts of me, no matter how objectified and dehumanized it made me feel at times. I lied about the number of people who had touched me and about all the experiences I never had, (I was only 12 so how could you even think I had other people touching me in my most intimate places?), just so you wouldn’t think I was as innocent as I was. You made me grow up too early.

As we kept talking, my heart slowly made its way to the surface and I caught feelings, despite us both discussing it would be ‘no strings attached’. I thought I was the only one with these flutters and I was way too embarrassed to say anything about the way I really felt so I never brought it up, I just went along with everything you said. After all, I was still just a shy little girl who had no idea what she got herself into. But then one night, you told me you loved me. I still remember that moment vividly, as if it happened just yesterday. It was the night before my first day of school (6th grade) and I was charging my phone in my parent’s bedroom, telling you goodnight, and you replied with “goodnight, love you”, and with shaking hands and a heart going a mile a minute I replied with, “goodnight, love you too”, smiling so hard my cheeks started going numb. That was the beginning of the end of me.

Truth be told, I wasn’t even sure at that time if I really did love you, but I still said it back because I didn’t want to lose you, but after all these years I think I can safely say that somewhere along the line I did fall in love with you, with what exactly I don’t know, but I did love you. But let’s not get too ahead of ourselves, there is so much more left of this story, this is barely the beginning.

You made me believe you loved me. We texted all day and night, meaningless conversations filled with sexual tension. You were the first boy I showed my body to, the first boy I kissed, the first boy who held me and touched me, the first boy I shed tears for, the first boy I had feelings for and said “I love you” to.

I remember seeing you with different girls on your snap everyday and remember hearing about you from other girls you were doing the same thing to them as were doing to me, and with every girl I lost a piece of myself. Now don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t jealous. I knew you weren’t mine, you made that pretty clear from the beginning, and I was never the jealous type. But, I was hurt. I thought I was faulty. I couldn’t blame you, because you made it clear from the beginning that you didn’t want anything exclusive, this was all just fun for you, a passing time, so with no one to blame I blamed myself. All the other girls were much older than me, and prettier, and skinnier, so if I was just prettier and as skinny as them maybe you would show me more attention right? I started changing myself. I ate less and threw up more. I started wearing tighter clothes and starting drinking and smoking, because that would make me more cooler and desirable right? Wrong. You still looked at other girls, and I couldn’t change myself anymore, I was on the brink of losing myself, love. All for you. But you never noticed. You never cared enough to know.

I remember getting drunk one night and texting you that I loved you but felt as if you didn’t love me. Do you remember that? You replied back in the morning saying you did love me. It was all baseless though. It was very clear you only said that to not be painted as the bad guy, but I still took your word for it and never brought it up again, and neither did you. I think that was the last time the word “love” was uttered between us. Did I ruin it?

I also can’t help but bring up how all our conversations happened within apps that couldn’t be seen by others unless specifically searched for. After all, who would even believe you were talking to lil ole me. Were you ashamed of me? Embarrassed to be seen talking to me? Well thats exactly what it seemed like. You made it very clear we were to be kept a secret, not a single soul should know you were talking to me. So I kept quiet. Didn’t tell a single soul about the boy who held my heart and crushed it along with my innocence.

I tried to distance myself from you. I wouldn’t answer your texts, but at times my longing got the best of me and I couldn’t stop myself from responding back to you. We would go months without any contact and every time it was you who would hit me up first and I would lose the battle within me and respond and we would be back to square one, texting as if nothing changed between us. I think I found comfort in that familiarity of knowing exactly what to expect when talking to you. Our dynamic never really changed over the years, did it? I still can’t decide if thats a bad thing or a good thing.

I tried to move on from you, I really did. But no one, nothing, lasted and I always ended up going back to you one way or another. I tried to fill the hole you left in me with drugs and drinks and boys who also only wanted me for my body. After all, that was all I knew. I didn't know love outside of what I could offer with my body. You taught me I wasn’t anything beyond my body and I never stopped to question it, and sometimes I still regress back to that little girls mind, and I’m still forced to exist in the body I destroyed for you, in the body I still let you use from time to time.

There are times when I think I am completely over you and nothing you do affects me anymore but then you text me again and all the feelings I had for you over the years come rushing back and I feel like I’m 13 all over again falling head over heels in love with you. But honestly, I think I just find comfort in the familiarity of you. We’ve been in this push and pull situationship (what else is there call us?) for I think over 6 years now, and I’ve honestly just come to accept that it probably won’t be a solid ending to this anytime soon. I tried so hard to end it and move and forget about you, but the truth is that I am too weak when it comes to you. Now, I have no idea whatsoever why you keep coming back to me when there are so many other better prospects out there for you and I try not to think too deep into it because I don’t want to create false hope and hurt myself any more than I already have. I gave you all my teenage years, and I am still giving them you. We grew up with each other and these years are just something neither of us can take back and I’ve come to just accept this and try to live with knowing there will never be anything more to us, no matter how hard that acceptance is for me.

I told myself that going away to college was going to be a fresh new beginning for me and that I would completely cut you off. We all know that didn’t go as planned. I had sex with you for the first time this summer. Did you know that was my first time lol? Yeah I literally have never had anyone touch me like that except for you. I don’t think I can ever come clean about that to you because that’s just too much power in your hands over me with that information. I’m sorry for lying and making you think I was more experienced than I actually was, but I guess now you know why I did it.

I think for me to be able to fully move I would need to hear your side of everything from you. But I don’t know if I’ll ever get the closure I need directly form you so I guess this is why I’m writing this, as a way to get some type of closure for myself. I never plan on telling you any of this because being vulnerable is just not something I have in me, especially to you, so I guess we both will just be living in the dark about this without any answers for the rest of our lives.

Sometimes, and I know this sounds hilarious and dumb, I wonder what the future holds for us. I wonder if we met at a different point in our lives, where we were both older and wiser, would we have been able to be more than what we are now, whatever we are now. I’ve held feelings for you inside of me for so long I really don’t think it will ever go away; I’m just going to have to find a way to live with them for the rest of my life. I just want to end this by letting you know that if you ever change your mind about me and us, and want there to actually be an ‘us’ exclusively, I will say yes to you without hesitation. You hold pieces of me I will never get back, pieces I don’t even know if I want back, and I don’t think if I will ever be able to devote myself so someone else with the same intensity I devoted myself to you. I used to be able to see a future with you, and I would like to blame that on my naive, young brain. Thank you for teaching me that not everyone who comes into my life will reciprocate the same feelings as me and that love is only a figment of one’s imagination. I sincerely hope you never feel what I felt and that you find someone who loves you back the same way you love them. I hope you are happy and content with wherever you end up in life, just don’t forget me. :)

#09/20/2021 3:04am

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kookie-doughs · 4 years

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Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

Percy Jackson X Reader -Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything was now ruined.

CHAPTER 10: The Wheels On The Bus Goes Skrt Skrt Skrt

It didn't take me long to pack. I didn't have anything at all, which left me only an extra change of clothes and a toothbrush to stuff in a backpack Grover had found for me and Percy. Both having nothing to carry we decided to share a bag. The camp store loaned us one hundred dollars in mortal money and twenty golden drachmas. These coins were as big as Girl Scout cookies and had images of various Greek gods stamped on one side and the Empire State Building on the other. The ancient mortal drachmas had been silver, Chiron told us, but Olympians never used less than pure gold. Chiron said the coins might come in handy for non-mortal transactions—whatever that meant. He gave Annabeth, Percy and I each a canteen of nectar and a Ziploc bag full of ambrosia squares, to be used only in emergencies, if we were seriously hurt. It was god food, Chiron reminded us. It would cure us of almost any injury, but it was lethal to mortals. Too much of it would make a half-blood very, very feverish. An overdose would burn us up, literally. Annabeth was bringing her magic Yankees cap, which she told us had been a twelfth-birthday present from her mom. She carried a book on famous classical architecture, written in Ancient Greek, to read when she got bored, and a long bronze knife, hidden in her shirt sleeve. I was sure the knife would get us busted the first time we went through a metal detector. Grover wore his fake feet and his pants to pass as human. He wore a green rasta-style cap, because when it rained his curly hair flattened and you could just see the tips of his horns. His bright orange backpack was full of scrap metal and apples to snack on. In his pocket was a set of reed pipes his daddy goat had carved for him, even though he only knew two songs: Mozart's Piano Concerto no. 12 and Hilary Duff's "So Yesterday," both of which sounded pretty bad on reed pipes. We waved good-bye to the other campees, took one last look at the strawberry fields, the ocean, and the Big House, then hiked up Half-Blood Hill to the tall pine tree that used to be Thalia, daughter of Zeus. Chiron was waiting for us in his wheelchair. Next to him stood a surfer looking dude. According to Grover, the guy was the camp's head of security. He supposedly had eyes all over his body so he could never be surprised. Today, though, he was wearing a chauffeur's uniform, so I could only see extra peepers on his hands, face and neck. "This is Argus," Chiron told us. "He will drive you into the city, and, er, well, keep an eye on things." I heard footsteps behind us. Luke came running up the hill, carrying a pair of basketball shoes. "Hey!" he panted. "Glad I caught you." Annabeth blushed, the way she always did when Luke was around. I looked at him with a frown. "Don't look at me like that. I had to find out from the others you're going on a quest." he glared. "So much for the option you won't die at." "I would've told you if you were at the cabin when I got back. Now what's with the shoes?" "Just wanted to say good luck," Luke told Percy. "And I thought... um, maybe you could use these." He handed him the sneakers, which looked pretty normal. They even smelled kind of normal. Luke said, "Maia!" White bird's wings sprouted out of the heels, startling me so much, Percy dropped them. The shoes flapped around on the ground until the wings folded up and disappeared. "Awesome!" Grover said. Luke smiled. "Those served me well when I was on my quest. Gift from Dad. Of course, I don't use them much these days...." His expression turned sad. I didn't know what to say. It was cool enough that Luke had come to say good-bye. But here he was giving Percy a magic gift.... It made me a bit jealous. "Hey, man," Percy said. "Thanks." "Listen, Percy..." Luke looked uncomfortable. "A lot of hopes are riding on you. So just... kill some monsters for me, okay?" They shook hands. Luke patted Grover's head between his horns, then gave a good-bye hug to Annabeth, who looked like she might pass out. The three went to Chiron about stuffs while Luke and I had a staring contest. "So Percy got a present and I only get an I don't know... a hug? Here I thought I was your favorite." "What made you think you are?" He laughed and ruffled my hair. "And no you don't get a hug." "Suddenly I'm not coming back." He smiled and from his back he pulled out a sheathed knife. "I meant to say you won't get only a hug. I noticed you're not a fan of swords. So, I made this my self. I am no Hephaestus child but hey..." He handed me the knife. The sheath was plain colored with a metal chap and locket, it had chains attached to the locket where I could probably put it on something to make sure I bring it with me. Pulling the knife out of the sheath, its knife was around 15 inches. On the blade, Ancient Greek was engraved on it. I think it's my name and the other side is his. "What is this?" I grinned. "I don't know. I ran out of good ideas! I swear I looked up some of Plato and Socrates for that." "And you settled for that?" I laughed. "I am going to take that back now." "Hey, that doesn't mean I don't like it. Thanks." "It's celestial bronze... Half of it at least." "Half?" "I'm sure Chiron won't appreciate it. It will harm both us and humans." "So... It'll hurt both side?" "Yup. And I'm not sure but according to a Hephaestus kid but it's supposed to glow when its near something." "Its not glowing now." "We never said no backsies. I'd like it back now." "I'll take good care of..." I stopped to think of a name and almost immediately remembered a perfect one, "Sting." "I would ask but I already know." Luke shook his head. "Be careful with Sting. It---" "He. Sting is a he, thank you very much." "HE, is lethal. He it can kill us, others close to our kind and normal humans." "Oops I accidentally stabbed myself." With a worried look he pulled me in a hug, "And whatever happens. Put your safety above all. No need to be the hero. If you die in this quest I will get the lord of the dead revive you or kill me." "Ew how sentimental." "Be careful... okay? All of you. Promise me that." "Fine, I promise. On the knife, I'll come back not dead, with everyone." After Luke was gone, I placed the knife on my waist. I went back to Percy. "Okay, that's extremely cool," I heard him say. "What's cool?" I grinned standing behind Percy overlooking his shoulder. "My new pen." He showed me his pen and uncapped it only to show a sword. "I can't loose it no matter what! Its called Riptide." "But what if a mortal sees you pulling out a sword?" Chiron smiled. "Mist is a powerful thing, Y/N." "Mist?" "I just keep hearing that over and over can someone finally explain?" "Yes. Read The Iliad. It's full of references to the stuff. Whenever divine or monstrous elements mix with the mortal world, they generate Mist, which obscures the vision of humans. You will see things just as they are, being a half-blood, but humans will interpret things quite differently. Remarkable, really, the lengths to which humans will go to fit things into their version of reality." Percy put Riptide back in his pocket. For the first time, the quest felt real. We was actually leaving Half-Blood Hill. We was heading west with no adult supervision, no backup plan, not even a cell phone. (Chiron said cell phones were traceable by monsters; if we used one, it would be worse than sending up a flare.) I had no weapon stronger than a knife to fight off monsters and reach the Land of the Dead. "Chiron..." I said. "When you say the gods are immortal... I mean, there was a time before them, right?" "Four ages before them, actually. The Time of the Titans was the Fourth Age, sometimes called the Golden Age, which is definitely a misnomer. This, the time of Western civilization and the rule of Zeus, is the Fifth Age." "So what was it like... before the gods?" Chiron pursed his lips. "Even I am not old enough to remember that, child, but I know it was a time of darkness and savagery for mortals. Kronos, the lord of the Titans, called his reign the Golden Age because men lived innocent and free of all knowledge. But that was mere propaganda. The Titan king cared nothing for your kind except as appetizers or a source of cheap entertainment. It was only in the early reign of Lord Zeus, when Prometheus the good Titan brought fire to mankind, that your species began to progress, and even then Prometheus was branded a radical thinker. Zeus punished him severely, as you may recall. Of course, eventually the gods warmed to humans, and Western civilization was born." "But the gods can't die now, right? I mean, as long as Western civilization is alive, they're alive. So... even if I failed, nothing could happen so bad it would mess up everything, right?" Chiron gave us a melancholy smile. "No one knows how long the Age of the West will last, Percy. The gods are immortal, yes. But then, so were the Titans. They still exist, locked away in their various prisons, forced to endure endless pain and punishment, reduced in power, but still very much alive. May the Fates forbid that the gods should ever suffer such a doom, or that we should ever return to the darkness and chaos of the past. All we can do, child, is follow our destiny." "Our destiny... assuming we know what that is." "Relax," Chiron told me. "Keep a clear head. And remember, you may be about to prevent the biggest war in human history." "Relax," Percy said. "I'm very relaxed." When we got to the bottom of the hill, I looked back. Under the pine tree that used to be Thalia, daughter of Zeus, Chiron was now standing in full horse-man form, holding his bow high in salute. Just your typical summer-camp send-off by your typical centaur. I took Percy's hand and we gave each other a reassuring nod. I wish us luck. Talking whilst at camp drained me. I apologize if I won't be much help. You have stamina? So you aren't a bigshot all powerful god? Without you and I as one. I am nothing. I have given you my everything.

Argus drove us out of the countryside and into western Long Island. It felt weird to be on a highway again, Annabeth and Percy was sitting next to me as if we were normal carpoolers. After two weeks at Half-Blood Hill, the real world seemed like a fantasy. I found myself staring at every McDonald's, every kid in the back of his parents' car, every billboard and shopping mall. "So far so good," Percy said. "Ten miles and not a single monster." She gave him an irritated look. "It's bad luck to talk that way, seaweed brain." "Remind me again—why do you hate me so much?" "I don't hate you." "Could've fooled me." She folded her cap of invisibility. "Look... we're just not supposed to get along, okay? Our parents are rivals." "Why?" She sighed. "How many reasons do you want? One time my mom caught Poseidon with his girlfriend in Athena's temple, which is hugely disrespectful. Another time, Athena and Poseidon competed to be the patron god for the city of Athens. Your dad created some stupid saltwater spring for his gift. My mom created the olive tree. The people saw that her gift was better, so they named the city after her." "They must really like olives." I interjected. "Not you too! You know what? Forget it." "Now, if she'd invented pizza—that I could understand." "I said, forget it!" In the front seat, Argus smiled. He didn't say anything, but one blue eye on the back of his neck winked at me. Traffic slowed us down in Queens. By the time we got into Manhattan it was sunset and starting to rain. Argus dropped us at the Greyhound Station on the Upper East Side, Percy and I didn't let go. Taped to a mailbox was a soggy flyer with Percy's picture on it: HAVE YOU SEEN THIS BOY? He ripped it down before Annabeth and Grover could notice. "They could've at least gotten a better picture." I smirked which caused him to roll his eyes. Argus unloaded our bags, made sure we got our bus tickets, then drove away, the eye on the back of his hand opening to watch us as he pulled out of the parking lot. Grover shouldered his backpack. He gazed down the street in the direction Percy was looking. "You want to know why she married him, Percy?" I stared at Percy then at Grover. "Were you reading my mind or something?" "Just your emotions." He shrugged. "Guess I forgot to tell you satyrs can do that. You were thinking about your mom and your stepdad, right?" Percy nodded. I missed my parents of course, but I had Luke and Grover to talk to which made me less lonely. Percy became an outcast when we got to camp and had no one to talk to. I squeezed his hand and gave him a smile. "Your mom married Gabe for you," Grover told him. "You call him 'Smelly,' but you've got no idea. The guy has this aura.... Yuck. I can smell him from here. I can smell traces of him on you, and you haven't been near him for a week." "Thanks," Percy said. "Where's the nearest shower?" "You should be grateful, Percy. Your stepfather smells so repulsively human he could mask the presence of any demigod. As soon as I took a whiff inside his Camaro, I knew: Gabe has been covering your scent for years. If you hadn't lived with him every summer, you probably would've been found by monsters a long time ago. Your mom stayed with him to protect you. She was a smart lady. She must've loved you a lot to put up with that guy—if that makes you feel any better." I knew what Percy was thinking. He was thinking of the fact we'll get his mom and my parents. How we'll save them all. We got restless waiting for the bus and decided to play some Hacky Sack with one of Grover's apples. Annabeth was unbelievable. She could bounce the apple off her knee, her elbow, her shoulder, whatever. I wasn't too bad myself. The game ended when I tossed the apple toward Grover and it got too close to his mouth. In one mega goat bite, our Hacky Sack disappeared—core, stem, and all. Grover blushed. He tried to apologize, but we were too busy cracking up. Percy pulled me to a corner, after excusing ourselves for a bathroom break. "You finally going to tell me about this quest?" "The truth is," He started. "I don't care about retrieving Zeus's lightning bolt, or saving the world, or even helping my father out of trouble." I gave him a look that reassured him to continue. "The more I thought about it, I resented my father for never visiting me, never helping my mom, never even sending a lousy child-support check. He'd only claimed me because he needed a job done. All I cared about was you and my mom. The underworld god had taken her unfairly, and he is going to give her back." "Percy, we don't even know what's going on. Yeah, he might have her. But what is there's another reason? We don't exactly know anything. I don't even think my parents are with him." "Well, no matter where they are. We will get them back. The least I could do is get them back." He rested his head on my shoulder. "Don't "You will be betrayed by one who calls you a friend," "What?" I froze. "Percy... I would never---" "You will fail to save what matters most in the end." "What are you talking about?" The rain kept coming down. "The rest of the prophecy. Y/N, I don't want you to betray me. Please... don't." I could hear his voice breaking. "Of course I won't. We'll get this quest done. We won't loose anyone and we'll get our parents. Don't worry." I hugged him. "I will stay with you. I won't leave and I won't betray you." "Hey Bonnie and Clyde, we need to go." Finally the bus came. As we stood in line to board, Grover started looking around, sniffing the air. "What is it?" I asked. "I don't know," he said tensely. "Maybe it's nothing." But I could tell it wasn't nothing. I took Percy's hand and started looking over my shoulder, too. I was relieved when we finally got on board and found seats together in the back of the bus. We stowed our backpacks. Annabeth kept slapping her Yankees cap nervously against her thigh. As the last passengers got on, I immediately clamped my hand onto Percy's knee. "Percy." It was Mrs. Dodds. Older, more withered, but definitely the same evil face. I scrunched down in my seat. Behind her came two more old ladies: one in a green hat, one in a purple hat. Otherwise they looked exactly like Mrs. Dodds—same gnarled hands, paisley handbags, wrinkled velvet dresses. Triplet demon grandmothers. And I was now sure, Mrs. Rudolph was one of them. They sat in the front row, right behind the driver. The two on the aisle crossed their legs over the walkway, making an X. It was casual enough, but it sent a clear message: nobody leaves. The bus pulled out of the station, and we headed through the slick streets of Manhattan. "She didn't stay dead long," Percy said, "I thought you said they could be dispelled for a lifetime." "I said if you're lucky," Annabeth said. "You're obviously not." "All three of them," Grover whimpered. "Di immortales!" "Who knows maybe they just want to play?" I said nervously. Annabeth gave me a look of irritation, "Not now," she said, obviously thinking hard. "The Furies. The three worst monsters from the Underworld. No problem. No problem. We'll just slip out the windows." "They don't open," Grover moaned. "A back exit?" she suggested. There wasn't one. Even if there had been, it wouldn't have helped. By that time, we were on Ninth Avenue, heading for the Lincoln Tunnel. "Maybe a nice chat would help?" "They won't attack us with witnesses around," Percy said. "Will they?" "Mortals don't have good eyes," Annabeth reminded him. "Their brains can only process what they see through the Mist." "They'll see three old ladies killing us, won't they?" She thought about it. "Hard to say. But we can't count on mortals for help. Maybe an emergency exit in the roof... ?" We hit the Lincoln Tunnel, and the bus went dark except for the running lights down the aisle. It was eerily quiet without the sound of the rain. Mrs. Dodds got up. In a flat voice, as if she'd rehearsed it, she announced to the whole bus: "I need to use the rest-room." "So do I," said the second sister. "So do I," said the third sister. They all started coming down the aisle. "I've got it," Annabeth said. "Percy, take my hat." "What?" "You're the one they want. Turn invisible and go up the aisle. Let them pass you. Maybe you can get to the front and get away." "But you guys—" "There's an outside chance they might not notice us," Annabeth said. "You're a son of one of the Big Three. Your smell might be overpowering." "I can't just leave Y-- you guys!" "Don't worry about us," I assured him. "Go!" His hands were trembling. But I took the Yankees cap and put it on. And he simply vanished. Mrs. Dodds stopped, sniffing, and looked straight at a spot. My heart was pounding. Apparently she didn't see anything. She and her sisters kept going. "Maybe if they approach us, I could try talking? I really was Mrs. Rudolph's favorite..." I stammered. "Yeah stage is yours." Annabeth answered. The old ladies were not old ladies anymore. Their faces were still the same—I guess those couldn't get any uglier— but their bodies had shriveled into leathery brown hag bodies with bat's wings and hands and feet like gargoyle claws. Their handbags had turned into fiery whips. The Furies surrounded us, lashing their whips, hissing: "Where is it? Where?" The other people on the bus were screaming, cowering in their seats. They saw something, all right. "He's not here!" Annabeth yelled. "He's gone!" The Furies raised their whips. "Don't!" I stepped in front of them shaking. "H-Hi Mrs. Rudolph. W-What could you need?" Annabeth drew her bronze knife. Grover grabbed a tin can from his snack bag and prepared to throw it. To our surprise the bus jerked to the right. Everybody howled as we were thrown to the right, and I heard what I hoped was the sound of three Furies smashing against the windows. "Hey!" the driver yelled. "Hey—whoa!" The bus slammed against the side of the tunnel, grinding metal, throwing sparks a mile behind us. We careened out of the Lincoln Tunnel and back into the rainstorm, people and monsters tossed around the bus, cars plowed aside like bowling pins. Somehow the driver found an exit. We shot off the highway, through half a dozen traffic lights, and ended up barreling down one of those New Jersey rural roads where you can't believe there's so much nothing right across the river from New York. There were woods to our left, the Hudson River to our right, and the driver seemed to be veering toward the river. The bus wailed, spun a full circle on the wet asphalt, and crashed into the trees. The emergency lights came on. The door flew open. The bus driver was the first one out, the passengers yelling as they stampeded after him. The Furies regained their balance. They lashed their whips at Annabeth while she waved her knife and yelled in Ancient Greek, telling them to back off. Grover threw tin cans. It was as if I didn't exist which was kinda offensive. "Hey! I'm also here!" I yelled pulling out my now glowing knife and helped Grover. "Hey!" A voice from the door way echoed. "Percy you idiot! Run!" I yelled. The Furies turned, baring their yellow fangs at him. Mrs. Dodds stalked up the aisle. Every time she flicked her whip, red flames danced along the barbed leather. Her two ugly sisters hopped on top of the seats on either side of her and crawled toward him like huge nasty lizards. I don't know how but I managed to parkour my way to avoid them and get to Percy in no trouble. I raised my knife and stood in between of them. "Perseus Jackson," Mrs. Dodds said, in an accent that was definitely from somewhere farther south than Georgia. "You have offended the gods. You shall die. I suggest you step away from him Y/N L/N." "I liked you better as a math teacher," he told her. She growled. Annabeth and Grover moved up behind the Furies cautiously, looking for an opening. Percy took the ballpoint pen out of his pocket and uncapped it. Riptide elongated into a shimmering double-edged sword. The Furies hesitated. Mrs. Dodds had felt Riptide's blade before. She obviously didn't like seeing it again. "Submit now," she hissed. "And you will not suffer eternal torment." "Nice try," I told her. "Percy, look out!" Annabeth cried. Mrs. Dodds lashed her whip around my sword hand while the Furies on the either side lunged at him. I managed to keep one of them and parried with her using my knife., which turned out to be Mrs. Rudolph. "I hate to admit it but you were my favorite teacher. Why go mean now?!" I struck with the hilt of my knife against her, sending her toppling backward into a seat. I turned to see Percy had sliced the Fury on his right. As soon as the blade connected with her neck, she screamed and exploded into dust. Annabeth got Mrs. Dodds in a wrestler's hold and yanked her backward while Grover ripped the whip out of her hands. "Ow!" he yelled. "Ow! Hot! Hot!" Mrs. Rudolph came at me again, talons ready, but I dove in and got in range to swing Sting at her and she broke open like a piñata. Mrs. Dodds was trying to get Annabeth off her back. She kicked, clawed, hissed and bit, but Annabeth held on while Grover got Mrs. Dodds's legs tied up in her own whip. Finally they both shoved her backward into the aisle. Mrs. Dodds tried to get up, but she didn't have room to flap her bat wings, so she kept falling down. "Zeus will destroy you!" she promised. "Hades will have your soul!" "Braccas meas vescimini!" Percy yelled. I wasn't sure where the Latin came from. I think it meant "Eat my pants!" Thunder shook the bus. The hair rose on the back of my neck. "Get out!" Annabeth yelled at us. "Now!" I didn't need any encouragement. Taking Percy's hand, we rushed outside and found the other passengers wandering around in a daze, arguing with the driver, or running around in circles yelling, "We're going to die!" A Hawaiian-shirted tourist with a camera snapped my photograph before I could recap my sword. "Our bags!" Grover realized. "We left our—" BOOOOOM! The windows of the bus exploded as the passengers ran for cover. Lightning shredded a huge crater in the roof, but an angry wail from inside told me Mrs. Dodds was not yet dead. "Run!" Annabeth said. "She's calling for reinforcements! We have to get out of here!" We plunged into the woods as the rain poured down, the bus in flames behind us, and nothing but darkness ahead.

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UwU Haha this is what the knife looks like since I'm not sure if I describe it that well... Omg I just realized my brother changed the chapter title lmao -kookie-doughs

Just imagine it has your name on the blade.

Taglist?

@gayer-than-the-gayest-gay @the-natureofme @booknerd-3000

#Percy Jackson #Percy Jackson X Reader #Percy Jackson X Y/N #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan #Luke castellan x reader #Lightning thief #Y/N L/N #Y/N L/N and the halfbloods #pjo #X Reader #Book 1 #Chapter 10 #Fanfiction #fanfictions

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pineapple-qween · 4 years

Text

Too Good to be True

Relationship: Batfam x Reader, Tim Drake x Reader

Summary: hey, i saw that you take requests and thought could you maybe (only when you feel like it, no pressure or something) write something sad where reader is good friends with the Batkids maybe is in tims age (and in love with him) but one day she is not with them anymore like she lost her scholarship on Gotham Academy but didn’t tell anybody because she doesn’t want to bother them because they always habe their batstuff to do ?

Key: Y/N= your name, L/N= your last name, italics= phone text

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“Tim, hey!” You adjusted the backpack on your back and ran across the quad to your best friend Tim Drake.

“Y/N, what’s up?”

“I need your help,” you watched as Tim began to groan. “Before you ‘uughh’ you promised you’d help me with your super research skills for my super boring research paper.”

“Oh yeah, I did.” You watched as Tim’s face fell and you knew right away he was going to come up with an excuse. “I would love to-”

“But,” you interrupted, “you have to ‘work’ with your family tonight. Again.” You shook your head and laughed to yourself. It wasn’t unusual for Tim to have to excuse himself from hanging out with you to be with his family. Well, you knew what he did at night.

“I’m really, really sorry. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” Tim wrapped his arm around you and gave you a side hug. The touch made your heart flutter, but you forced yourself to not react.

“Yeah, yeah,” you pulled away and started backwards walking in front of him, “how about you buy me lunch and we’ll see if that fixes things.”

Tim chuckled, “Okay, but Damian’s gonna be joining us.”

“Yes! Damian is hilarious!”

“Damian would kill you if you said that to his face.”

You sat at your desk after school and stared at a blank computer screen. The cursor flashed, awaiting your words, and all you could do was spin your pen in your fingers. You sighed and closed out the window. Maybe if you took a break, you’d come back with fresh eyes.

You pulled up Twitter and scrolled through your feed. It wasn’t all too exciting, but then you pulled up the “Batman” tag and scrolled through its recent posts.

Just saw Red Robin on Killer Croc’s back riding him like a bull #onlyingotham #batman

You laughed at the image of Tim being bucked around on Croc’s back that formed in your head. You saw a couple similar posts and then some talking about spotting Dick and Damian before you closed out the tab.

It wasn’t that you were jealous of Tim, you thought it was amazing that he was a superhero, but it was frustrating that he never had time to hang out with you anymore. You used to go over to Wayne Manor every day after school to do homework with Tim and you loved it. Wayne Manor was always full of life with all of his brother. All of whom had taken to you and basically claimed you as a sister. Recently, however, Tim and his brothers were busier than ever and he didn’t tell you why, beyond “Bat things”.

You pulled up your blank research report and began to write.

“Miss L/N, I need you to stay after class.” Your teacher caught you just before you left the classroom. You groan internally and turned around to face him.

“Yes, Mr. Toffer?”

He gestured to the desk in front of his and you sat across from him. After you sat down, he handed you your paper.

“A ‘C’?” You couldn’t believe it.

“Yes Miss L/N, a ‘C’. I’m sorry to tell you this, but you are in danger of losing your scholarship. If you keep slipping in my class, the board will have no choice but to pull it.” He said it all so matter of fact-ly, but his eyes gave him away. You saw the sadness and the slight regret as he told you about this.

“Is-is there anything I can do? Could I rewrite this paper? Or do extra credit?”

“You know my extra credit policy. It would be disingenuous to the other students I have to give you what I don’t extend to them.” You could feel the disappointment burrow onto your face. “All I can say is you need to study hard for the upcoming final and if you get anything less than a 90%, your scholarship will be revoked.”

You walked out that room dazed. You couldn’t believe you were in danger of losing your scholarship. Your mom was so proud of you for getting into Gotham Academy, especially on academic scholarship. You couldn’t bare to think about telling her you might lose it.

While mulling this over, you literally ran into Tim. “Woah there! Y/N, you good?”

“Uh, yeah. Just a little distracted,” you put on a smile and looked up at Tim. “Homework party tonight?”

“I’d love to, but...”

You sighed, “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

“Oh yeah, by the way, Dick wants to know if you still had his CD player. He needs it for sometime that I wasn’t paying attention to.”

You perked up, “I can bring it over sometime this week?”

“Nah, if you just bring it here, I’ll take it home after school.” He obviously didn’t see how much that hurt to hear, but you just nodded and the two of you walked the halls till you got to your next class.

One last night before your test and studying was getting you nowhere. You couldn’t focus. You were so afraid of failing this test, of losing your scholarship, and the fact that you seemed to be losing Tim. You looked at you phone and thought about texting him, even though you knew fully well that he was on patrol.

Hey, Tim. We good?

You sent it with no expectation of a response, but you needed to get at least one thing off your chest tonight. You set down your phone and looked back at your textbook, hoping to actually retain some information. You barely read one paragraph before you saw your phone light up.

Yeah! Why? Is something up?

You were shocked to see it was from Tim. You were so unprepared to get a response you didn’t know how to respond.

No! Nothing. Just wondering if Damian knew I called him hilarious and was getting back at me through keeping you busy.

You knew that wasn’t the truth, but you couldn’t tell him that it was because you thought he didn’t like you anymore. That you thought his family didn’t want to see you again.

Haha, no Damian still likes you, which is an amazing feat

I gotta go, Joker ou t, t al k l8r

And with that you knew he was gone. You turned back to your textbook, but you knew there was no way you’d be able to focus.

The next time you looked at your phone, it was 6 am and you hadn’t slept all night.

The next week flew by. Tim started ditching you at school, not just after. That made it easier when you got a 88% on your final and you had to meet with the board about your scholarship. They confirmed what Mr. Toffer had told you and revoked your scholarship. They politely informed you that you would not be returning the next semester.

You couldn’t face any of your friends. You closed yourself off, started finding all kinds of ways to avoid Tim and Damian, and waited out the end of the semester.

As you walked out on your last day, you decided to pretend Gotham Academy was a dream. A wonderful dream. You walked away, ready to forget Tim and your feelings. You knew it all had to be too good to be true.

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The winter break came and went. Tim walked into the Gotham Academy quad, Damian hot on his heels.

“Drake! You have yet to tell me why Y/N didn’t come over during our break.” Damian demanded as he finally caught up.

Tim didn’t want to respond, mostly because he didn’t even know. He waited all break to get a message from you, but it never came. It didn’t help the Mr. Freeze was incredibly problematic for most of the break and Tim was a little too distracted.

“She was probably busy Damian. Don’t worry, you’ll see her today I’m sure.”

“It’s already been ten minutes past eight, she’s never this late.”

Damian was right, Y/N was never late to meet them. “Damian, please. I have to get to homeroom. I’ll text you the moment I see her okay?” Tim looked Damian in the eyes as he said this, to reassure him that he was being honest.

“Tt-tt, okay. I will see you at lunch.” Damian walked off towards his class.

Tim nodded, then his head shot up after, “Wait what.”

The end of the school day came and went. Tim never saw you once. Damian approached him as they waited for Alfred to pick them up. Tim was grateful for the 31 seconds of peace before Damian spoke.

“You never saw Y/N today, did you?”

It wasn’t accusatory. Damian actually sounded...sad. Tim didn’t know how to react at first. He opened his mouth and closed it a couple times, looking for the words. Eventually, he just said, “No.”

Damian looked up at him. “Will you text her?”

Tim looked into the boy’s sad eyes, an unusual sight, and sighed while pulling out his phone.

Hey Y/N, you good? Didn’t see you at school today

Tim didn’t have to wait long until his phone buzzed.

We’re sorry but the number you are trying to reach has been disconnected or is no longer in service.

Tim stared at his phone dumbfounded.

Damian cut through his daze with his voice, “Well? Anything?”

Just then, Alfred pulled up, waiting for the two boys get in. “Uh, no. Don’t worry about it.”

When Tim got back to his room, he tried various ways to get in contact with Y/N. Everything failed. Eventually he gave up on conventional means and started using his hacking skills.

“...no”

The first thing he found was the removal of her scholarship eligibility. The next was her enrollment in the Gotham public school system.

“God, no.”

When did this happen? Why did this happen?

Why didn’t he ever reach out to you?

#Tim Drake #tim drake x reader #tim drake imagine #BatFam #batfam fic #Damian Wayne #damian wayne imagine #batfam imagine #batman fic

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missorgana · 3 years

Text

everything has changed

pairing: darcy lewis/monica rambeau

fandom: marvel cinematic universe

rating: general

word count: 2612

summary: Monica pines, Jimmy gives her Darcy's number, and they meet again. (post wv finale reunion)

(once again crossposting late but hello!! i’ve been wanting to write these dorky girlfriends for ages but alas life! distractions! this doesn’t have much of a plot as much as just... darmonica being soft and jimmy getting them together cus 💞 hope u still enjoy!)

read on ao3

“Debriefs are for the weak.”

Monica mulls over Darcy’s parting words for her with a repressed chuckle, realising just how many hours the task is going to take her. And paperwork has only just begun.

It’s no surprise, of course.

In a short time, she’s dealt with a wide range of emotions. Monica’s done her job the way she knows how to, but this was no ordinary job.

Confusion, frustration, anger, shock, revelation. A strange force sparkling inside her, a power Wanda gave her without even realising it, and one she has to adjust to, like she’s adjusted to so much else in her existence after the return of the population post-blip.

She’s got most of those feelings pinned down, but one. One she suspects got a whole lot to do with a certain Doctor Darcy Lewis.

That must be why the shorter woman’s immediate leave left a certain pull in her chest, but really, how could she convince her to stay? For what reason? Monica felt ridiculous just considering it, if she could go back in time, mere hours ago, and yet it would probably be no different.

Darcy got a lift out of Westview, to where, she has no idea, of course. And she’s left bent over a desk with her fellow S.W.O.R.D colleges swarming around her, as well as Jimmy’s FBI unit.

Speaking of Jimmy, he knocks her out of her head on the non-existent door (the whiteboard, that is) and holds up the tray of coffees with a grin. She returns it, despite the lack of sleep making her eyes burn.

“Mind if I interrupt?” he says, and she’s already reaching for the cup, so the question is merely out of politeness, anyway. But she doesn’t mind, obviously.

“Thank you,” Monica answers, scooting over to allow him to sit, and he protests against it because he’s just too damn nice, so she insists, “I could honestly use a break, don’t worry about it. Seriously.”

And so they sip their beverages, revelling in the relative silence there could be in a space full of government officials and sounds of wheels and choppers and constant phone calls. She’s used to it. It’s just a little too much right now. Can you blame her?

“Looks to be a long night, huh,” Jimmy starts again, a chuckle that sounds as tired as she’s feeling.

Monica smiles again and rubs a hand over her face, “Several of them, I fear.”

He nods, “You think Wanda’s gonna be okay?”

She takes a minute with it, and really, Monica knows all these Avengers… superheroes , deal with unspoken shit and the fate of the world on their shoulders. Doesn’t mean they’ll be able to handle it, though. In fact, it makes her wonder if she’d be okay, herself.

And she wonders if Carol’s okay. She hasn’t thought about her in a long time.

It’s not much of an answer, but she figures she ought to say something, “I hope so.”

The silence between them settles again, and Monica flips a page before taking another sip, Jimmy seeming somewhat satisfied with the answer. It’s a guess, at the most. But a qualified guess, perhaps? It’s something .

When he picks up the conversation for the third time, it surprises her, “Are you okay?”

“Sorry?”

“I was just-” he stops himself mid-sentence, chuckling at the thing awkwardly and fidgeting with the paper cup, “Forgive me, I talk too much for my own good, sometimes.”

Monica shakes her head, sighs, rests her chin on one hand, sort of in an attempt to stay awake, “It’s fine. Just thinking.”

When he nods and downs the last gulp of coffee, looking like he’s about to leave her to the tedious work once more, her brain surprises herself, this time, pronouncing the words before even registering what she’s saying, “You think Darcy’s gonna be fine? I mean, uh, on her own.”

Jimmy’s face showcases mild confusion. Nevertheless, he sits down again, and before answering her question, turns the page for her. She feels overwhelmingly grateful.

“She doesn’t take any bullshit, excuse the language,” and they both share a laugh, because it’s too true, “Definitely. You worried about her, though?”

Well. The tight knot in her gut signals a definite yes. Yet Monica feels like an idiot for it, because they’ve known each other for, what, two weeks? She tries to lie. Somehow, she senses that the man doesn’t believe it.

“Nah.”

Pause. “No?”

She pauses herself. Chews the inside of her cheek, “I mean, I am. But it’s stupid. Should I?”

Jimmy’s confusion seems to fade in an instant, which Monica finds rather peculiar. Maybe she’d comment on it, if she could figure out how.

Sleep deprivation hangs over her being like a dark cloud, while the image of the doctor rests permanently at the very front of her mind. Gosh, it’s so obvious.

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” he assures her, flipping the next page, and the next, a kind of routine being developed, “I’ve got her number, though, if you want.”

Monica feels her hands freeze up, then.

It’s almost like her new friend can read her mind, and it’s a little bit scary. She resumes the work, the faster they do, the faster they’ll get the fuck out of here. But the look in Jimmy’s eyes is like a hilarious know-it-all sort of thing, minus the smug demeanor, because he’s incapable of that, she thinks.

“You have?”

“Yes, I mean, we got the information of all the specialists, heh,” he says, because obviously they do, and nods again in a funny sort of way, “But thought you might want it.”

“Oh.”

“Just, uh, you asked.”

“I did! I did, I…” Monica doesn’t really know where she’s going, now. Her voice gets rather its own life, and she has to return to the top of the paragraph to understand what it’s saying, “Thank you. Not sure she’d wanna hear from me, though.”

Jimmy frowns. “What happened to the boss lady I met two weeks ago?”

“Oh, shut it.” she snorts. He scribbles down the number on a scrap of paper and hands it to her with a satisfied grin. If a warmth spreads to replace the knot in her stomach, then sue her.

“You doing anything Friday?”

This is the question that repeats itself in Monica’s head as she comes to stand in front of Darcy Lewis’ front door, contemplating whether to knock, ring the bell, or chicken out and leave what those feelings in her chest are doing unresolved.

Of course, she won’t step down, not when she’s come this far.

Despite playing it relatively cool when Jimmy handed her the contact information, she did a lot of overthinking before picking up the phone.

Considering and planning every word, then, when the woman’s sunny voice rings in her ears, considering every word she receives. Monica never thought talking to someone she liked - or, well, more than liked, could be quite so terrifying.

“What up, sucker,” the voice had said, Darcy never failing to make her laugh, even without knowing, it seems. “Darcy? It’s Monica.”

She convinced herself the minimal pause wasn’t just in her own head, “Monica! I- I’m glad to hear from you.”

“Sorry, I hope I’m not interrupting-”

“Never.”

If the phone call made Monica horribly flustered, she couldn’t imagine what being in the same room as the shorter woman again could entail. Honestly still unbelievable that the doctor invited her over. It’s like she read her mind. And somehow, she does it again when the door opens at the same second as Monica convinces herself to finally raise her hand to the bell, and there she stands. She’d shush the butterflies in her gut to quiet down, but it’s quite a difficult task when Darcy stands in front of her, wearing a red cable knit sweater two times too big on her frame, raven hair lacking the beanie and eyes lacking glasses.

Monica finds herself swallowing around a lump in her throat she wasn’t even aware of till now.

The doctor’s instant smile and deep dimples don’t exactly help. She’s got a somewhat mischievous glint in her eye, and is already pulling on her wrist for a hug before saying anything, “You came!”

Her smile transfers to Monica’s own lips with ease. She doesn’t really know what to do with her hands. Not very used to this hugging thing.

“You sound surprised,” she replies, attempting a chuckle, but feeling painfully awkward in the process.

And when Darcy draws back, she does one of those funny faces that isn’t a frown, but rather a sign that she’s thinking of a joke, tilting her head to the side and her tongue poking out in the corner of her mouth.

Monica also doesn’t know why it makes her feel even warmer. Like the sun’s breathing in and out right above her, but never so far to scorch a burn. Never.

But of course, deep down, she does know. That is why she’s here in the first place, isn’t it?

She doesn’t know if the doctor considers her a friend. She didn’t assume so, she’d hoped, and also not, because judging by how her cheeks are already heating up, Monica’s beyond friendly feelings for the other woman already.

Darcy must consider her a friend. People don’t invite people they’ve known for all but two weeks home, usually… do they?

“Just thought you’d have important things to do, you know,” the shorter woman explains, already stepping aside in a silent invitation for Monica to enter, “Too busy for silly little me.” The doctor has a tendency to screw up her voice, too, she’s noticed. Last time, it was to relieve a room filled with tension, now, it pokes at the multiple knots in her chest, unwinding just a tiny bit.

Breathing in, breathing out. Come on, Monica, what are you so stressed for?

“You hungry?” Darcy interrupts her clogged brain again, “I’m not much of a chef, but uh- I’ve got coffee, too! Please ignore the mess.”

The shorter woman’s fumbling with her hands, making herself busy cleaning up after what she assumes is her own dinner. It’s just way, way too adorable.

She almost worries Darcy will fall and break something with the way she’s nearly sprinting to the kitchen, and so assures her she’s fine, really. Monica feels too anxious to sit, so she remains standing, for now.

The doctor starts up the coffee machine regardless.

Stacks of papers and folders on the side of the dining table, oh, she’s been there plenty of times herself. Monica doesn’t even realise she’s fixating on it when Darcy grins sheepishly, and after what feels like an eternity, they both sit.

She folds her hands on the tabletop. Tries desperately fighting her subconscious to not pick at her nails, because it’s a stupidly bad habit that’s got to be left behind. Hasn’t felt this nervous in ages, she realises.

“Debrief went okay?” Darcy asks, gesturing for the milk, an offer Monica takes. This seems easy. Should be easy. She’s making up all the tension in her own head, surely. And to ignore it, she smiles fondly at the thought of their last moment back in Westview, “Yeah. Long. You definitely didn’t miss out.”

The doctor snorts, nods, perhaps just confirming her own theory on the subject.

Then a smirk surfaces on her features, “Hayward getting his ass kicked in jail, I hope?”

And Monica allows herself to laugh, ease taking over her little by little. Coffee was more needed than she realised. So was Darcy’s half-lit flat, muted television going in the background and several open folders scattering the living room rug.

Feels like the doctor’s own little bubble, of sorts. Their little bubble. Hm.

“A girl can dream.”

“Goddamn right.”

So much to her own surprise, the shorter woman pretty much takes all nerves about this reunion right out of her, as simple as popping a balloon.

They’re making small talk, not boring or superficial like any two people who barely know each other, because, somehow, it just feels like they know. Monica can’t understand why. It’s easy for them to be personal, when her thoughts shift to her mom. And she knew Darcy knew Thor, the woman insists she should meet Jane too, and it just makes the butterflies flutter faster and stubbornly.

In fact, Monica doesn’t realise how long they sit there, talking about everything and nothing, until she glances at the clock on the wall and it tells her it’s almost 11PM. Oh, shit.

There goes the nerves again. She doesn’t know what to do with herself with that information in mind, because, ugh, well.

A part of her really, really likes the thought of this as a date. But it’s not a date, that has to be explicit. You know, talked about. Then, what is it, then?

She catches herself itching her fingers, and when she pushes her chair out, something in Darcy’s face shifts. It’s like she instantly understands. But also, a hand lands on her thigh, and Monica can’t exactly process that.

“Ah, shit! I always do this, me and my big mouth…” she grumbles, which is also too adorable, like everything else about the doctor, until her wide eyes gleam in excitement all over again, “Wait, just a moment. Almost forgot.”

The shorter woman retreats to another room in a hurry, leaving Monica strangely lost without her hand and downing the last bit of coffee. She grimaces at the cold liquid. Only encourages the butterflies more.

And then, Darcy returns, but with a bouquet of blue roses looking comically giant in her grasp.

Not what she expected, that’s for sure. But those butterflies in her gut are now having a rave. The doctor scrunches her nose, Monica’s quick to stand up and take the flowers handed to her, and then she’s staring at the baby blue petals in her arms, feeling like she’s in a daydream.

Looking back at Darcy, she’s shifting her weight back and forth on each foot, clearly as nervous as she herself feels when her heart jumps in somersaults. Does this mean what she thinks it means?

“These… are these for me?” Monica finds herself asking.

The shorter woman tilts her head again, but grinning, “Duh.”

She has no idea what to say. All she can think about is the doctor and the flowers and the smile meant for her and how she surely, definitely must be blushing. It’s a little relieving that the woman in front of her is doing the same.

And then Monica feels like an idiot for making sure this reality really is happening, “Why?” and it strains her chest, then, fearing that Darcy might take this back. Instead, the doctor steps a little closer and touches some of the flower heads, straightening some, nodding, satisfied with the arrangement.

She stays in Monica’s space, “I wanted to give flowers to a pretty girl. I mean, uh, if this is… I can totally take it back if this is weird. Ugh, I’m such a bad romantic.”

Talking to herself, Darcy’s so adorable it almost hurts.

The flat also feels a lot warmer than when she arrived, but in an overwhelmingly good way. Their tiny bubble.

Monica tightens her hold on the flowers even more and shakes her head to the flustered doctor, pushing a coil of hair behind her ear. Her reminder to herself, thank Jimmy next time they see each other. How did he read them so easily?

“I like getting flowers from pretty girls, so…”

Darcy’s eyes turn hopeful again, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

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