#especially when I’m doing so well all things considered

[strwberri-milk]

hi hiii :D

i was hoping you’d take in this request of the lads men at reader’s graduation ceremony/party after she completes a hard degree she’s been studying for all this time :3

like what would the boys reaction be as they see her name being called out to get her degree on stage, and their interaction after the ceremony is over :D pretty pleaseeee

i’m gonna use this as motivation to study hard for my upcoming exam week hahaha

thank you take care <333

ughh tbh i skipped my graduation so i just made stuff up LMAO also i didnt define a degree bc hard degree is v v subjective lolol

He would clear his entire schedule to be there with you. It doesn't matter what he's doing that day - it doesn't matter. You can argue with him all you want, especially if he has an event that comes up you perceive as being more important. Rafayel and Sylus basically make up their own schedules so they've made sure that nothing is planned. Zayne and Xavier have booked the day off months in advance, knowing that they wanted absolutely nothing to get in the way.

He's also got his camera - phone or DSLR in Rafayel's case - to take a bunch of photos. He's going to commemorate this special occasion of course and is more than happy to either stage some photos, or just take dozens of photos of you. He also got a special bouquet just for you.

You can see Zayne in the audience clapping and smiling at you proudly. He doesn't do super big displays of affection, especially since this is an event for you, not him. When you walk the stage he's taking a bunch of photos, both for your reference and his.

He gives you the flowers he bought out to the event, passersby looking a little jealously at how extravagant and luscious they look. You don't notice at all considering all you can focus entirely on his little speeches about how proud he is of you.

Xavier's incredibly excited to be present at your graduation. He's smiling and clapping for you, also not a big cheerer but the happiness in his eyes is pretty obvious. When you finally step off of the stage he opens his arms to you, letting you run at him and hugging you tightly. His bouquet for you is super cute, a slight mess but still adorable. He put together a bouquet of treats - whatever it is you may like - as well as little plush or trinkets that you adore. It's not traditional but the grin you give him is more than worth it.

Rafayel's your personal photographer, nobody questioning the guy with the giant camera as he comes closer to the stage. You're a little embarrassed by how happy he is but you also can see that he's trying to keep things lowkey as much as possible. He showers you in affection once you step off the stage, taking you back to his car where he's got a giant bouquet hiding in the trunk. You stare at it, wide mouth and slack jawed as he just shrugs it off, telling you it's still in there because he couldn't carry it to the auditorium without destroying it.

Sylus sits in the audience, absolutely bored until your name is called. As soon as he hears the first syllable he brings his fingers to his mouth, letting out a sharp whistle that startles everyone, including you. He heard other people doing it and he wanted to outshine them all for the love of his life. His bouquet is very fancy and he's decided not to take it out in public just in case, presenting you with a lavish bouquet of flowers made of hundred dollar bills.

[occasionalsnippets]

hello author!

I’m a totally different, definitely not the anon who sent the previous post!

So…out of curiosity…if fd reader was filling in for robin ( I assume this is pre- red robin-or would reader act as a double for red as well?)

and they got sucked into another universe…

what kind of shenanigans would occur?

also while I am definitely not the previous anon, I’d like to mention that the fd series has a new film coming out next year it’s a little different!

A/n: sorry kinda messy because I got my wisdom teeth removed

Taglist: @dragondevinity, @lonely-star2044, @sheep-from-rad, @ilxandra, @thethingwiththefeathers, @star-wars-lycanwing-bat, @sackofsadstuff, @zonked-times, @paastaboi, @venfia, @fantasy-angelo, @linaisadream

---

Getting dropped through a portal and landing in the middle of a fight isn’t great. Fortunately, you're dressed for the occasion since you’re filling in as Robin. Unfortunately, your comms are dead. Fully dead. Dead enough that there isn't even a trace of static to be heard.

It could have been worse, you think as you help Nightwing (alternate universe? Probably alternate universe Nightwing, he doesn't seem to recognize you) clear out a group of goons. At least you're in Gotham and at least you didn't land directly in the path of the batmobile while someone was driving it or something.

Nightwing is wary of you and your supposed help, at least, until you get a moment a tell him the code for alternate universe situations because of course, there’s a code for everything.

(Code for time travel, code for alternate universes, code specifically for family, etc, etc. You leave all those codes up to Batman to decide.)

He doesn’t totally relax, obviously, but he’s willing to take down all the goons before focusing on you.

You're clearly bat-trained, have bat-gear and would look like a carbon copy of Robin if Tim was currently Robin and not Damian. It isn't difficult to believe you are a dimension traveller (you aren't the first and likely won't be the last either), especially with the obvious portal you hopped out of.

And well, things should be okay if you’ve got the family code tagged along with the standard code, right?

Either way, you and Nightwing end up going to the batcave. There’s some back and forth banter, you ask about who’s around and find out that it’s basically everyone you remember from the comics in their own role. Their universe is a bit ahead of yours it seems.

“D’s not allowed to be Robin until he’s more than 4 apples tall,” you tell Nightwing. By 4 apples tall, you mean 4 apples on the height chart you bought to mark Damian’s growth.

"4 apples tall," he mouths, delighted.

Dick had reacted the same way when you put the chart up. Damian had been livid.

The batcave is every bit as dark and cave-y as you remember it to be. Batman is there. So is Red Robin. And Spoiler. It's still early in the night so everyone else is probably still doing patrol.

Being interrogated (kind of) is interesting. It would be more effective if you hadn't seen similar songs and dances hundreds of times. Plus, Batman isn't being too harsh about it. It might be because you're Robin, because you're family.

The edges of your domino mask are peeling off. It always feels like you never put enough glue.

Well, you might as well reveal yourself. With the retrieval of the glue solvent, removal of the mask and a quick run of your hand through your hair, you could consider yourself off duty.

“Are you a girl???”

“Congrats on your top surgery.”

“Congrats on your bottom surgery.”

Hilarious. You laugh softly and ask, “Do you guys think I’m Tim?”

Something discordant ripples through everyone. You thought it was obvious you weren't Tim but well... You smile and hide your teeth.

"I'm (Y/n) Drake, nice to meet you."

You’re pretty sure that your universe will figure some way to get you back so you tell Batman that if you haven’t disappeared by the time 48 hours have passed, he should probably contact a magic user to get you back.

No one is going to bed apparently. It’s Sunday tomorrow. They’re not technically the family you know so you don’t say anything about pulling an all nighter.

There are some fascinating follow-up one-on-one conversations afterwards once they get past the "Tim's older sibling who doesn't exist".

Dick mentions it’s a bit odd to see you as Robin. You’re technically the oldest person to have ever been Robin as everyone grew out of it (died in it, got fired, etc) and got their own costume before they hit 18.

You point out it's not really your costume and that you only really fill in when you have to. He tells you you're still part of the legacy. You're still Robin. You... don't really know what to say to that.

When he asks you how you got involved, you shrug and say you just followed Tim. "He's my brother. What was I supposed to do? Leave him?"

Anyways, interesting conversations between two people who have been eldest daughter syndrome-d. Maybe things are better in your universe where you're there to ease the emotional load of the family but it shouldn't have been your responsibility. It shouldn't have been Dick's either.

You end up telling Jason that the Joker is dead in your universe. More specifically, that he "had gone missing a bit after Red Hood arrived in Gotham". You don't say exactly how it happened but he can probably infer that you had something to do with it.

The two of you probably bond a bit over your paper thin morals. After all, when you aren't playing at being Robin, you don't have to follow Bruce's moral code either.

Bruce is okay. The one here isn't horrendously terrible or anything but there were probably more bumps along the way. You straight up tell him to start seeing a therapist. His nest of birdies are his children first before they are his vigilante partners. He should make that clear before he makes another blunder, fails to apologize, and has to try to mend his relationships again.

He asks if you’re one of his children. You laugh until your ribs hurt.

Damian asks why you (and your Tim) are still Robin. You’re reasonably confused. Dick had informed him that your Damian is with the Waynes already yet has not been made Robin.

You aren’t exactly aware of how this Damian (or comic Damian for that matter) became Robin but you just tell him, “There’s no rush to pass on the mantle. Besides, we’re a couple years behind you guys.”

"You coddle him." "He's literally like, 9."

He'll figure it out someday once he gets past the being raising in an assassin cult thing. You ask what pets he has to derail him.

Things are easier with Cass, as they always have been. She takes one look at you and definitively declares "Family". You smile, ruffle her hair, the same as you would with your Cass, and she drags you away to talk to Steph.

Steph cracks a joke about your presence evening out the gender ratio in the household. She's also on the phone with Barbara so you say a quick hi before being swept into the next conversation.

You and Tim. Tim and you.

It’s been years since Jack and Janet Drake have died. Years upon years since Tim was a little boy waiting by the phone for his parents to call and tell him they’re coming home. He thinks some part of him still longs for them, despite it all.

And now, there is you. His sibling who never existed.

You remind him of his mother, of Janet. You’re as sharp as he remembers her being but you’re so terribly warm and patient and casually affectionate in ways he still isn't used to. Perhaps you're how Janet would've been like if she had loved him more.

You and Tim probably have the most to talk about out of everyone, especially about the early days from before he became Robin. Throughout it, he finds out just how much you've involved yourself in the other Tim's life. There's something sad in your expression when the two of you talk.

He hasn't needed someone to protect or raise him for a very long time but still, it must have been nice to have you, to have someone to trust and love him unconditionally.

For what it's worth, you tell him you're proud of him. Even if you don't exist in this universe, he's still your itty bitty tiny little brother.

Something bubbles in his chest. He thinks it might just be jealousy for the version of him that has your unconditional love. The version that has everything that you could give him.

Alfred brings down food for you to eat. Despite the fact that you don't belong, he insists on calling you "Master (Y/n)". Some things never change you suppose.

Everyone notes that it's very very strange to see you be so familiar with everyone when none of them know you. It's like they're all stumbling over a step in their life, fumbling in their interactions with you, uncertain about what to do.

Duke wanders into the Batcave in the morning and finds you at the batcomputer, still wearing your Robin costume. You get one look at him and go, "Ah they didn't tell you about me did they."

You give him a quick rundown ("I'm from an alternate universe, yeah I showed up last night, I'm Tim's older sibling, I'm only a placeholder Robin, no I don't really know you but I think I've seen you around in my universe before") before he leaves for day-patrol.

He's cool. You'll keep an eye out for him when you get back.

True to your expectation, less than a day after your arrival, a portal opens up beside you. Everyone's in the batcave and are able to see you off as Tim (your Tim) reaches out to bring you home.

You're wrapped up in hugs immediately upon return. So clingy, you think as you say, "I'm home."

Tim, who's buried by your side, mumbles, "Welcome home."

As for you filling in as Red Robin later on, it might be better to discuss it chronologically with Batman getting lost in the timestream and the no good very bad follow up conversation about who should wear the cowl that somehow ends up with you filling in as Nightwing.

[bagopucks]

J. Hughes - Joe Cool

✄————————————

Jack Hughes x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warning(s): fighting, brief mention of physical abuse, aggressive cussing, angst

The comeback fic long as fuck so I’m not proofreading more than once :)

—————————————

Halloween was my favorite holiday. A time for spooky movies and fall decor. Fun candies and dressing up to party. Nothing was better, especially when the leaves began to change and fall from the trees. And in New Jersey, it was one of the most beautiful times of the year. At least I thought.

The leaves bad barely begun to change before I could feel my season turning sour. Will, my boyfriend, had never been a great guy, but the last slivers of hope I’d been clinging to were beginning to slip from my hands. He insulted me in front of his friends, called me names, grabbed me too hard. I kept telling myself it was just the way he was. That we played hard. That he’d learned it from his father. He just needed time to fix himself. But the longer I stayed the worse it got.

Our last argument was over Halloween costumes. I’d given him weeks, and countless ideas to choose from. I couldn’t say why it was the straw that broke the camels back, but when he kept saying nothing sounded good, I had finally lost it. We fought long and hard the night we broke up, before I had finally kicked him out of my apartment. Will was an awful human anyhow. My best friend had always told me as much. I just never listened.

Weeks passed, and I kept myself distracted with the friends I had close. A few of my girls came over, as well as Jack, from time to time. Well… especially Jack.

“So, I know it’s still a little early and stuff but..” Jack paused as he picked up a slice of pizza and set it on his plate, swiftly returning to my living room. “You plan on going out for Halloween?”

I shrugged at the question.

“All my girl friends already coordinated their costumes. I don’t wanna fifth wheel any of them.” I really wasn’t too worried. The breakup had killed my excitement for the holiday anyhow. I waited for Jack to sit before I stretched my legs across his lap. “What are you going as?”

“Haven’t decided. I was gonna go with Luke but he got sick so.. I’m solo this year.” A soft chuckle fell from the boy’s lips. “And Nico is doing some weird thing with Timo.”

“Poor Jackie,” I teased, earning a playfully scolding look from him. We’d put on some Disney Halloween movie, but neither of us had paid much attention to it. We sat in silence for a moment before Jack looked up from his plate, watching me.

“You know Nico said you could come to the Devils party.” He offered.

“Jack-“

“The girls miss you. They haven’t seen you since you got with that Asshole. And I miss partying with you too.” The mention of Will made my eyes fall back to my plate.

“I don’t have anyone to dress up with.” I gasped as Jack pinched my ankle in response. I leaned forward and swatted at him in retaliation.

“Me!” He shouted through laughter, trying to shield himself. Once his words registered, I relaxed. “Me! You can dress up with me.” His concerned expression shifted into peace once he realized I was done attacking him.

“I don’t know.”

“Look, you don’t have to go, but I’d love to see you there. Everyone would.”

I sat in silence and mulled over the idea. What if it was too early? What if I ended up crying halfway through the night? How would I find a costume?

“Jack.. what would we even go as?”

“Easy.” His quick response surprised me. “Your favorite Halloween movie.”

“Huh?”

“Snoopy and Woodstock.” He spoke as if it was obvious. “Charlie brown?” I felt guilty about how quickly my eyes lit up. Like I wasn’t even grieving the loss of a dear lover.

“I have always wanted to do that.”

“I know.” Jack knew. Of course he did. He always did.

“God. I should have dated you instead.” The words slipped from my mouth as a joke, and my eyes fell back to my plate, completely missing the sad look in Jack’s eyes. I took a small bite of pizza, still considering the idea. “If I did go, I’d get to be Woodstock.” I laid out my only condition, half expecting Jack to say no. As if he was anything like my ex.

“I like snoopy.” His easy agreement took me by shock once again.

“You’d really let me be Woodstock?”

“Yes, of course.” Jack smiled. “You’ve got me all excited now, which means you have to go.”

“Okay, but-“

“Nope. You’re going.”

And just like that it was decided.

——

Jesper’s girlfriend had joined me in my apartment to get ready for the party. She was busy doing her makeup to be Jewel from Rio, while I dusted on a light layer of yellow eyeshadow with some bright blush. We’d had a bottle of wine open somewhere, though I couldn’t remember where we left it. Our glasses were more than full, and our hearts were just the same.

“The boys will be here soon. Are you ready to get dressed?” Nicole questioned as she dug through her various lipstick options.

“Yeah. I’ll run into my room and do that now.”

Over the week, I’d gone shopping different times to find the perfect Woodstock outfit. Jack and I had agreed to surprise one another, which only added to the excitement of actually going out. I shut my bedroom door the minute I was inside, rushing to my dresser to pull out the pieces of the costume I had laid out the night before. A yellow body suit, and a matching yellow mini skirt with layers of frills. I had bought a pair of yellow socks as well. I had never imagined myself wearing so much of the color, but once I got the outfit on and peeked in the mirror, I had to admit, I looked cute.

I rummaged through my room to find my white converses, sliding them on and grabbing a pair of sunglasses and the yellow boa I’d bought. It was a simple look, but it worked well. I performed any small adjustments on my hair in the mirror before stepping out. Nicole had already been dressed, though she wore a robe to get ready considering there wasn’t much to her outfit. Not that I blamed her. Jesper would be drooling all night, and that’s exactly what she was going for.

“Nikky!” I called as I walked down the hall into the living room. The woman quickly emerged from the kitchen, the half empty bottle of wine in her hands.

“Oh. My. God.” Her lazy grin turned into a wide smile. “You’re adorable! Jack is gonna love this!”

“Yeah?” Her reaction fueled my confidence. “You think so?”

“I know so.” She took a swig from the bottle before placing it on the coffee table. She walked over to ruffle the boa around my neck, laughing.

“Birds of a feather we must be.” She smirked at her own joke, plucking a yellow feather from my boa and a blue one from her own costume. She laid them on the table together. “A keepsake. It’s cute.” I had to agree, it was. Our phones both went off within moments of each other. Our cue to get moving. I sat on the couch to lace my shoes while Nicole ran off to find her own. We met in the kitchen to take a quick shot before rushing out the door and out of the apartment.

When we got to the car, I found Jack standing outside with a wide grin. And I must admit, his costume brought a grin to my lips as well. Big black puppy ears hung from either side of his head, connected by a small headband barely noticeable through his thick ruffles of hair. He wore a white t-shirt with a little red choker as a collar. And someone, god knows who, had drawn the black nose on for him.

“You look- adorable.” I couldn’t help but reach out for a hug. Jack met me halfway, wrapping his arms tightly around my midsection and resting his chin on my shoulder.

“Thanks. Nico’s girl helped me.” Jack giggled, holding on for a second longer than anticipated. When we parted, I couldn’t help but stare. He was so cute like this.

“Come on! In the car!” Nicole opened the passenger side door, climbing in the front with Jesper.

Jack was kind enough to open the back door for me, allowing me to climb in before he did.

“Someone smells like alcohol.” Jesper commented as Nicole shut the door. She and I laughed softly.

“Nothing wrong with a little pregame.” Nicole reasoned. “Now step on it sexy.”

——

When we arrived, my nerves went through the roof. I had sobered up fairly quickly. I hadn’t seen the Devils or any of the girls in so long. I didn’t know where to start conversation, or how to even fill anyone in. But when I stepped out of the car, Jack grabbed my hand, and every single worry flew out the window.

“Everyone is gonna be so excited.” Those were the last words I remember before we walked around the house into the back yard. Then it became a blur for a while. People asked how I was, what I was up to these days, where I had been. It was all a lot. So much so that I’d felt myself slip into autopilot at some point. Though I quickly fell out of it when the excitement of my arrival calmed down and I was able to join Jack at the pong table.

“Snoopy!” I heard the familiar voice of Nico call, both Jack and I turning for only a moment to see the Swiss man approaching. Drunk off his ass.

“Hey, Nico!” Jack had been fairly tipsy as well. Hell, we all were. The only difference was Jack and I could keep our clothes on when we had alcohol in our systems. The same couldn’t be said for Nico or Timo.

After much consideration, Jack and I had agreed that we were certain they’d gone as dumb and dumber. It was only hard to tell because all they had on were the blue and orange pants. All of their other clothes were missing.

“Timo and I play you next!” Nico called, earning a nod from Jack.

The music was loud, and people were yelling louder. A never ending issue of noise. Couples ran in and out of the house, some were in the pool, others at the small homemade bar, and others around the food table. But Jack and I hadn’t moved from the pong table in around 15 minutes. We were the best. We had been since high school.

“You know you look really good tonight?” I called toward Jack, fishing a ping pong ball out of a solo cup.

“Huh? Oh! Thanks! You look pretty too!” We went silent.

“Pretty?” I asked.

“Of course, beautiful.” Jack downed the shot from the cup I’d taken the ball from. I stared at him, surprised. Shocked?

“You don’t mean that.” I brushed the comment off nonchalantly, though Jack quickly looked at me and smirked.

“Yes I do. Of course I do.”

“Jack, stop.” I shook my head, trying to act dumb. Trying to ignore how my heart fluttered. As if I hadn’t crushed on him since high school.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, seeming to realize finally what he was saying. After the exchange, I threw the game, and Nico threw a fit because now he wouldn’t get to play Snoopy.

I was quick to step back from the table, announcing my need for water before I rushed toward the back door to the house. Compared to the coldness of the night air, the indoors was much warmer. As I shut the door behind myself, I let out a soft sigh, hearing voices in the living room. The girls.

I followed the sounds right to the culprits, all curled up with pillows and blankets in a circle on the floor, chatting their lives away.

“Everything okay?” Timo’s girlfriend questioned. Did I still look distressed?

“I’m alright. Just.. Jack-“ I paused. They didn’t need to know. And yet somehow the looks on each of their faces said they already did.

“Sit down. It’s chaotic outside.” Timo’s girlfriend opened a spot on the floor for me, and I made myself at home in the safety of the women.

“It’s still early.” Nicole commented. “Jack just doesn’t get that.”

“What?” I asked, incredulous.

“Nico tells me.” Anna, Nico’s girlfriend spoke up. “Jack just doesn’t wanna lose his chance that’s all.”

Lose his chance? I felt overwhelmed.

“Just don’t rush into anything you’re not ready for.” Timo’s girlfriend reasoned.

What was happening. I had been staring at the floor so long I didn’t even realize I had a room full of eyes on me. Until I looked up.

“He likes me?” I earned a nod. “And you guys knew?” Another nod.

“He hated seeing how Will treated you.” Anna spoke softly, as if that would ease my stress.

“All this time?” I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth. I needed time to think. To process. To- fuck. Anything. I had waited so long for Jack only to assume he didn’t see me the same way. So I moved on with another man, only to be told he did feel the same.

A knock on the wall brought me from my thoughts. I sat up slightly and spun around only to spot Jack in the doorway. He looked stressed, and his body was swaying back and forth in the slightest.

“Hey can we talk? Upstairs?” Jack’s soft voice broke the silence. I don’t know why but I nodded, stood, and followed him up the steps. Into what I assumed was a guest room. Jack shut the door. “I’m sorry-“

“Why did you wait so fucking long?” I asked, exasperated. My tone caught Jack off guard.

“What?”

“You! You waited!” I raised my voice. “I went through all of that shit because of you!” I didn’t want to be angry. Why was I angry?

I stopped in my tracks the moment I saw the look in Jack’s eyes. Hurt. Betrayal. Shock. Then it fueled my anger, my bitterness.

“That’s not my fault..” his soft voice pushed out.

“If you would have said something I would have fucking dated you! Instead of fucking around with that asshole!” I snapped. “God damnit! Why didn’t you say anything?”

“That’s not my fault and you know it! What the fuck is wrong with you? I was there for you through everything! Every time he yelled at you and called you names! When he didn’t come home some nights or when you needed a place to stay!” Jack raised his voice, “and somehow it’s my fault?! How about it was your bad judgment!”

A mutually hurt silence fell between us. Snoopy wasn’t supposed to yell at Woodstock. They were best friends. But Woodstock had never blamed Snoopy for his hardships and suffering. I felt every emotion in my system come crashing down to sadness. Heartbreak. My body seized up, muscles so tense my arms went numb. My eyes turned glassy and I drew my lip so hard between my teeth that I tasted blood.

“Jack,” his name came out in a whisper.

“No. Fuck it. No. You said what you said. If that’s how you feel then forget it.” Jack took a backwards step toward the door. “Go home.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe I ever did shit for you.” He swung the door open, almost running face first into Nicole, giving her a sideways glance before he stormed off down the steps. The tension in my body released in that very moment, my shoulders falling with a broken sob.

What had I done?

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

[sgiandubh]

I love your style, intelligent, down to earth, very practical, not in the 5-10 children in 7 years part of the fandom. Guess that’s why I’m very intrigued by your take on recent events. I feel a massive shift in their public behavior, very different from the last 6-7 years where they tried very hard to separate themselves from their characters and each other. Why do you think that is?

Dear @i-ship,

Thank you very much for the kind words. I try to keep things in check and base my opinions on solid facts. Not 'FACTS', mind you, but as much as possible publicly available documents and data. The not so public things (meaning you have to pay for those, which indicates a different confidentiality level) I keep for myself, because I am not an idiot: in no way, however, do they contradict the rest, in which case I would immediately recalibrate my analysis. I also know very well that confirmation bias has often been mentioned as a sad excuse across the street, when things didn't look good for them. That is wishful bullshit, because no legal professional would prostitute their skill in order to shoehorn reality into a given scenario. Papers speak by themselves - there is no need to stretch the information they contain, but yes, you can (and you should) interpret them. Therefore, all I did was to translate in everyday English what is often not accessible to everyone and wrap it in a bit of context. This is, apparently, a mortal sin and I know it is the main reason I am being hated with a passion, by many.

All of the above just to stress the fact that I am not easily swayed by sensational pics, tidbits and gifs. I may sound like a damned party pooper to you, but I prefer to patiently follow what I think is interesting, rather than childishly bounce on my chair every single time people see what they really saw a thousand times before, in eleven years of saga. Nor do I need to have confirmation four times a day of something that simply exists, irrespective of the fact I know about it or not.

I will say only this: C definitely looks as she DGAF about the whole circus anymore. It started with the piggyback pics, on March 25, continued with the Taylor Swift concert (the only time I allowed myself to oooh and awww at 4 AM) and is now seemingly confirmed by these new promo pics and interviews. Yes, they screeched 'it's fan service', but as far as I know nobody forced C to behave the way she clearly intends to show everyone. It's Season 7B, for Christ's sake, the script is hogwash and the acting is not so good (yes, I will need a rewatch to write something decently balanced about it), the audience numbers are dwindling and OL is on its way out. Hard truths, no matter how you turn it: why would she open again the door to 'speculation' (ah, but what's in a word?), especially considering this cesspool of a fandom's obsessive-compulsive collective behavior?

Unless...

Unless, @i-ship. Let's not write the script, but you got me. I hope this answers your question - at any rate, it was a pleasure trying to.

[justdrawlynn11]

Celestial Underground Au: Sun’s Last Days

Context: A flash-forward to 10 years after the Creator was defeated by the siblings. Sun is king once again, but not for long because while his magic might be powerful, it’s been slowly killing him, but it’s been speeding up recently.

(Warning: Very long and ANGSTY)

June 26: It’s a warm Summer afternoon, but you could tell that night would fall within the next hour or two, all of the royal family are inside and almost all spending time together, enjoying each other’s company and trying to remain happy, trying to distract themselves from the King’s health…

Sun was alone in his room, standing out on his balcony and seemingly waiting to see the sunset. Moon knocks on the door and Sun grants his twin brother permission to enter.

Moon: “Hey Sun..”

Sun: “Hi Moon.”

Moon: “What’re you doing?”

Sun: “I’m just waiting for the sunset…”

Moon is silent for a moment.

Moon: “….”

Moon: “Sun… Are you just going to give up..? Just like that? You- you can’t just give up like that-”

Sun: “Hm?”

Moon: “I- I mean there’s still time, right?! We can still fix it-”

Moon starts back on his same old rambling of trying to convince Sun, or even himself, that there’s still some hope of keeping Sun alive, and that they can’t just give up. Sun: “Moon… we’ve known that this would happen for a long time. We’ve all done what we could do… you’ve done all you can do Moon..”

Moon: “B-But there’s still- there’s still time to fix it just don’t give up like this-”

Sun: “Moon… you need to accept that-”

Moon: “NO- Sun it isn’t fair! You’re only just about to be 43 years old! It’s not fair that you only get a decade of peace to live after all the messed up things that happened! And Dazzle’s too young to loose another parent- Especially one she remembers!”

Sun: “Well at least you won’t be second in line for the throne anymore, you’ll only be sort of behind Dazzle-”

Sun tried to joke around to lighten the mood, even if what he was saying wasn’t really a joke…

Moon: “Sun- I don’t care where I am on that stupid line of being heir anymore, I just want you to stay ahead of me and not move it forward yet!”

There was another pause, as they were trying to think of what to say, as the one isn’t going to fully agree with the other’s views on the matter… Moon’s so desperate to prevent what’s to come, and yet Sun’s already content with dying…

Sun shifts the conversation..

Sun: “Moon… I know I don’t have to ask this, but I will… Please take good care of Dazzle after I die, she’ll need it after I’m gone..”

Moon: “…..”

Moon: “Of course Sun….”

Sun: “And please don’t put her into the throne at 16 like I was, we both know that’s a nightmare to throw on a kid.”

Sun made a laughing scoff sound as he was jokingly commenting on his own life... He noticed that Moon didn’t appreciate the joke considering the circumstances…

Sun: “You already have my permission to take the role of temporary King until Dazzle comes of age, Moon. And if she doesn’t want to become Queen.. well Moon I have no doubt that you’ll be a great ruler to our kingdom…” Sun wanted to give Dazzle the chance to choose whether or not she’d be Queen, a choice she gets because she was adopted rather than being born into the main ‘bloodline’ of the family. Not that it really mattered to Sun considering he’s raised her since she was a month old..

Sun: “I’ve already set things up for you and Dazzle so there won’t be many issues when the time comes…”

Moon looks at Sun… and he starts tearing up… he’s so distraught and desperate and yet his twin, the one who he’s known since day one, who will be gone forever here soon, is so calm and accepting of his horrible fate..

He knows Sun’s in pain, but he guesses Sun’s pain tolerance came in handy there considering it was hard to notice… Sun just looked tired instead of looking like he was dying..

Moon embraces his brother, King of the Superstar Kingdom and the bright side of the family, and he starts crying…. No, he’s sobbing, begging his brother not to go… even if he knows it’s out of both of their control.

Sun hugs his brother back, letting Moon let it all out because he knows this hurts…

Sun: “Moon.. everything is going to be okay… And I know that you and Dazzle and all the others will do great things… even if I can’t be there to see it… You’ve all already done so much good…”

Moon’s cries continue on for a little while..

Moon began to tire more as his cries started to slow down…

Moon fell asleep in Sun’s arms, most likely by overheating himself due to stress. Sun picks up Moon, he can tell that he himself was becoming physically weaker because he was struggling to pick up Moon, something he’s done multiple times mostly effortlessly... But since he can still pick up his little brother, he takes Moon to his room, he can tell Moon’s tired. Sun then heads back to his own room to change his sleep jacket because Moon’s cries of dark oil would stain..

Sun then heads to Earth’s room, as that’s where the rest of the family was spending time, and luckily Earth’s room wasn’t to far from Sun’s, moving is starting to hurt more and more...

He spends the rest of his day with his other siblings and his daughter and nephews. Sun tells Dazzle the same thing he’s been telling her for a while in preparation for his death… he wanted to make sure she wouldn’t need to worry. Sun, to Dazzle: “Dazzle, I really want you to remember that being a princess is great, but I trust that you could be a great queen someday who will do great things. But I know that even if you want to stay a princess that you can still be amazing, and no matter what I’ll always love you.”

Dazzle: “Okay *yawn* Papa!” That yawn was telling that it was starting to get late..

Everyone said their good nights and headed to bed.

Sun took Dazzle to her room and tucked her in for the night.

Dazzle: *yawn* “Night… night daddy..”

Sun, with a soft smile: “Night night Dazzle, sleep well.”

Sun left the room… he knew it might be the last time he’ll get to tuck his little girl into bed… with how tired he’s becoming he doubts he’ll last until the end of tomorrow…

Sun headed to his room to go to sleep...

Moon’s sleep:

Just like for months.. and months… and months… Moon’s dream showed him a future he’s spent so.. so long trying to prevent…

It wasn’t as graphic as some other visions that had haunted his dreams in the far past, Sun wasn’t destroyed and covered in his own oil or roboticized… but that didn’t mean it wasn’t just as terrifying as any other vision…

Sun was lying in his bed… but Sun himself was gone… there was nobody else in the vision so Moon could never tell if he was going to be there or not…

It was all silent… everything felt frozen.. and he never liked being frozen.. forced to see his dying brother’s corpse every single night…

Forced to see something he knows he can’t prevent anymore…

Why did they let Sun use so much of his own magic ten years ago..? The triplets could’ve helped boost his medallion’s power to de-roboticize so many others… all that usage ended up just speeding up Sun’s death…

Why did this have to happen…?

June 27: It’s early morning…

Moon awakens early… he absolutely hates having those nightmares. He gets out of bed, guessing that Sun took him to his room last night, and he goes to his older twin’s room. He goes and sits by Sun’s bed for a few hours, Spaniard came in and asked if Moon needed anything to eat and Moon requests some food to be prepared for him and Sun for when Sun awakens.

When Sun awoke, Moon could tell that something was most definitely wrong. He could tell that Sun was much worse than he was the day before. Just yesterday Sun could at least stand and walk to a few rooms of the castle(and carry Moon). But today he could tell.. he could tell that.. that Sun won’t be alive by the end of the day.

And that breaks his heart so much, he wants to try begging for Sun to not leave him again like the day before, but he can’t let out a word. All replaced with tears as he can actually see his older brother in pain. And he hates that the only way to stop it is the one he hates the most, and yet the most inevitable outcome at the same time.

Sun, waking up: “Hmm..? Moon..?”

Moon: “G..good morning Sun..”

He hates that he can’t stay strong enough for Sun in his last moments, he hates the thought of being temporary King, scratch that, King in general. Because it means that Sun is gone. He hates that Sun’s stupid magic, something so helpful to them, was also the reason he’d loose his brother. He hates the thought of Sun being dead and yet he can tell that it’s been happening for years and today’s the last day he’ll see Sun like this, in the worst condition he’s personally ever seen Sun in.

Sun: “Moon… can I get a hug..? You seem like you need it…”

Moon: “S-sure Sun…”

They hug for a short while, Sun’s letting Moon let his grief over the situation out… he knows that Moon’s been trying to prevent this… he wished he didn’t have to leave…

Sun: “Moon…”

Moon: “Hm..?”

Sun: “C-*cough*- can you please get the others..? I just want to see them a bit more today..”

Moon: “Sure… sure thing Sun, give me a few moments..”

Moon goes to get the rest of his family as quickly as he possibly could… he really didn’t want to be away from Sun for too long today…

Sun spoke to all of his family, both individually and all together. He joked a bit with Lunar, along with discussing how Lunar’s been feeling lately, Lunar mentioned that his custom beanbag order had finally come in and he was excited to show Sun how comfortable they were. He talked with Earth, asking how Monty and her were doing and how her latest knitting project was coming along. He assured Nexus that he was going to be okay, and even if he wasn’t then it he trusts that everything would be okay, Nexus even played a bit of drums.. an experience familiar and yet so far in the past.

Solar could tell, just like with Nexus, that something was worse with today for Sun compared to the others… Sun tried to assure Solar in a similar way as Nexus.. but it felt as though Solar was still more upset and wary of what was going on, even if he was really good at hiding it by now.. Sun asked Solar about any side projects of Solar’s aside from the whole ‘preventing Sun from dying’ task that he, Nexus, and Moon had been dead set on trying to achieve for so long now.. Solar’s apparently making little hats in his spare moments of alone time.

Sun talked with his nephews, Jack and Molten. Jack, from what he says, has been playing a lot of board games and been practicing his combat skills, Sun knew Jack would always be there to help and protect Dazzle. Molten had been a calm presence, he’s also taken up cooking as well, he was always trying out something new with either himself or his baby cousins.

He talked with Dazzle, she was super happy just being around him. Their little banter was always fun. Moon watched, he talked with Sun here and there but he more so just wanted to be around Sun.. at least for this moment…

He spoke to his family, it was both heart warming and breaking in so many different ways.

Sun: “Dazzle.. Hun I wanted to give you something..”

Dazzle: “Really? I have a gift for you too dad! It’s for tomorrow but do you want it early?!”

Dazzle was so enthusiastic.. she couldn’t wait to see her dad’s reaction to her gift.. Sun chuckled…

Sun: “Of course Dazzle.. how about we do a little exchange?”

Dazzle: *gasp* “Oo~ Gimme a moment I’ll be right back!”

Sun: “Go ahead..”

Dazzle rushed out of the room excited. Sun held himself until she left and then he started coughing quite a bit, it was a pain cough that he was probably holding in for a bit..

Earth: “Sun are you okay-”

Sun: “Y.. yeah Earth… I’m okay! I’m just not feeling well today is all…”

Dazzle re-entered the room, she was being quick due to her excitement.

Dazzle: “Okok- can I go first?”

Sun: “Of.. of course Dazzle..”

Sun was trying hard to focus.. to stay awake..

Dazzle: “So I made these for your birthday, but you can get them now! I made you a bracelet and a card!”

Sun: “Oh! Thank you honey..! Oh it’s such a- *cough* such a lovely bracelet!… Such a pretty assortment of beads you chose!”

Dazzle: “So do you like it?”

She enthusiastically asked her dad, proud of her gift.

Sun: “I love it Dazzle… I love it and the card..!”

Dazzle: “Yayy!!”

Sun: “Now it’s my turn to… to give you something!”

Dazzle: “Okay!”

Dazzle patiently sat as her father reached to his lower nightstand drawer, he grabs out a small box and gives it to Dazzle. Dazzle opened the box to find two bracelets. She smiled widely and excitedly said:

Dazzle: “You got me bracelets too!!”

Sun: “Not just any bracelets..! One of those used to be my bracelet when I was much younger… your auntie and most of your uncles weren’t… weren’t even born yet..! And the other is one that I… I made myself, super special and full of love just for you!”

Those bracelets… one was one that he’s had for years, a bracelet he couldn’t wear during the Creator’s reign as it was lost at the castle, and a bracelet that he made for her, for all the bracelets she’s made him in her life..

Spaniard the butler came into the room and informed the family that lunch was finished being prepared, Sun requests that Moon stay with him while the others go enjoy lunch.

They all said their ‘temporary’ farewells and their “I love you”’s.. Dazzle hugged her father.

Dazzle: “Bye-bye Dad, I love you!”

Sun returns the statement, it’s so casual you wouldn’t think that it would be their final goodbyes…

Sun: “I love you too honey… bye-bye.”

Everyone leaves until it was just Sun and Moon all alone.. Sun looked to his brother once more…

Sun: “Moon… how about I give you your birthday gifts a little early as well..?”

Moon: “Oh… sure.. if that’s what you want to do.”

Sun: “They aren’t the best or newest… but I hope you’ll like them anyways..”

Moon: “I don’t think I’d care about a small detail like that right now Sun.”

Sun: “Just… just wanted to tell you.. just in case..”

Sun reaches to his nightstand’s drawer and grabs out three things from it, some red ribbon bell bracelets, the ones he and Moon used to wear to match when they were little, a somewhat damaged photo that had seen better days, it was from their 15th birthday celebration… Moon knew it was one of Sun’s favorite photos because it showed Moon’s biggest smile in their youth, and a little handmade plushie of himself that Moon had never seen before. The other two things where things from their youth… from some of the happiest times in their lives…

Sun: “The plushie is for whenever you might be missing me.. I know it’s going to be hard on you after I go.. so I hope this- *coughing* ..this helps.. I hope this helps on the bad days.. if it makes you feel any better… I made it myself!”

Moon: “Sun..”

Sun: “You… you probably recognize the other things.. I just figured you should be the one to have them..”

Moon: “…”

Moon: “Thank you Sun.. anything you want for our birthday..? I don’t think I can get my gifts to you in the current moment… do you want anything in specific..?”

Sun: “… how about a hug..?”

Moon: “Of course Sun..”

Moon accepts, embracing Sun in a hug. Sun says to Moon, in a tired voice, getting quieter with every word:

Sun: “I love you brother..”

Moon: “I love you too brother...”

Sun: “That’s all I could ever ask for…..”

Sun’s grip in his brother’s hug loosens, leaving Moon to be the one to end his embrace of his older brother... Moon starts to cry, as he is now the oldest of the living royal family…

[coffeeviolinist]

Y’know I was staying silent about this before but I’m just going to come out now and say it: the way Azusa is written these days makes it really, REALLY hard to like her.

And that sucks because I used to love her when she was just a fun background character working a minimum wage job who happened to pop up every once in a while. Unfortunately, that isn’t how she’s being written these days.

Sure, she’s still sweet and all. But a big part of her character these days is being Amuro’s not-girlfriend - or, more specifically, how she always has to act all bothered about the fact that people keep shipping her with him. She even said, and this is a direct quote, “if someone like me was seen with Amuro-san, it would be hot gossip all over the internet”.

For one, I find it hard to buy that because a potential relationship between two waiters of all people being gossiped about “all over the internet” is just not something that happens no matter how attractive one of them is. Most people have better things to worry about than whether the people serving them their coffee are dating each other - yes, even high school girls.

For another, and this is really the crux of the matter, if Azusa is actually as bothered as she says about the possibility that people would see her with Amuro and jump to conclusions about them…well, you’d think she would also recognize that there’s an obvious solution, right? All she has to do is not go out in public with Amuro, and she won’t be inadvertently fueling any potential rumors. Problem solved!

Except, well, for all her talk about how she doesn’t want to be shipped with Amuro and how much it bothers her that everyone is supposedly gossiping about her online, Azusa has still gone out alone with Amuro in public multiple times. At this point, it’s honestly starting to make her look like a pick me. She’s starting to feel like one of those girls who talk about how “gross” it is that they keep getting shipped with their guy friend but actually not-so-secretly really, really want everyone to assume they’re dating.

Of course, the Doylist explanation for all of this is that Gosho is just using Azusa as a mouthpiece for a cheap ship bait joke. The problem is that (at least from what it seems) he’s approaching this entirely from a Doylist perspective and isn’t considering how it actually looks from a Watsonian perspective.

It’s probably also his inability to write women coming through yet again. Like yes, of course women and girls are all a bunch of catty bullies who go around saying horrible things about other women on social media for no reason other than the fact that these women have attractive coworkers. It’s not like women have better things to worry about, no, our only concern is competing with each other for male attention 💕. Our one and only goal in life is to be someone’s wife 💕💕💕.

Just. Ugh. Azusa is a perfect example of why some background characters should just stay background characters, especially since Gosho can’t write women for shit.

[corellianhounds]

The Last Jedi AU: Ignore whatever’s supposed to happen or where people are in this movie. Paige Tico is foiled in her attempt to release the bombs that would take out the First Order ship. Her ship is boarded and she’s taken onboard the Star Destroyer as a captive intelligence officer, but before she’s captured she’s able to relay a covert message to Rose telling her what happened.

Instead of the diversion to Canto Bight, Rose is the one with the knowledge of splicing into Imperial ships and she and Finn impulsively plan to jet over to the Star Destroyer in an escape pod Rose had been experimenting with a cloaking device on, the two of them breaking in on their own.

Finn finds Poe to tell him of Paige’s capture and his and Rose’s plan. Poe knows that he can’t condone or contribute resources to it and knows for a FACT Leia won’t allow it, despite the fact Paige is a friend and the same rank he is. He’s torn between getting her back but needing to stay and lead, so he he tells them to take BB-8 and does that Mr. Incredible thing where he tells Finn and Rose what “NOT” to do to get into an Imperial flagship, him planning the distraction from the outside and still screwing with Hux over the comms and keeping eyes turned his way as Finn and Rose sneak onboard to find Paige.

Can you imagine if like they manage to get into some labs while they’re doing recon and Finn senses something? Can you imagine him hesitating as they move, telling Rose they have to go back while she’s hissing for him to keep moving? Her either hacking into the tech to redirect First Order troops away from their location, or going off to find her sister herself while Finn stays behind? Finn finding schematics and draftings alongside old codexes and scrolls before eventually coming to the humming, fractured kyber crystal in the next room, hanging suspended in midair above the equipment? Realizing as he’s digging through the odd mix of both scientific and semi-magical texts what it’s for, but that Ren hasn’t been able to force it to conform to his needs, too unstable to be housed even in his own lightsaber? Finn starting to configure and piece things together even as Rose tells him they’re running out of time?

As they’re sneaking around, gathering pertinent information to the plot and finding Ren’s plans for Rey and Skywalker, they’re nearly caught— Surrounded by First Order troops and with seemingly no way out, Rose and Finn prepare for the worst, when all of a sudden one of the troops goes rogue and eliminates all of their fellow officers instead. Paige Tico managed to escape and had disguised herself, just happening to be lucky enough to run into them in the lower levels. Paige tells them of some of the other rebel prisoners aboard the ship she was planning to break out, and the three of them, finally united, start plotting their means off Ren’s flagship when they overhear Hux in the corridor talking about Ren meditating in some inner sanctum with an order to be left alone with his own retinue on pain of death as he searches the Force or whatever for the location of Rey and Skywalker

Back onboard the New Republic ship Poe and Leia confer with the other generals as to what the Sith’s next move is going to be when they receive an incoming transmission from Kylo Ren himself.

As Kylo Ren and Leia Organa face off in what was to be their last confrontation, the tone and gravitas of their conversation somber, something flickers over the feed, and everybody on the New Republic ship’s bridge sees a blinding arc of light as one of the First Order troops behind Ren steps out of line and carves a blade of shimmering green in a downward arc directly behind him.

Outraged and caught off guard, Ren blocks the attack with his own blade, both lightsabers flickering with different energies, and as Finn’s voice shouts over the holo Poe realizes that not only has Finn given them an opening to hit Ren’s flagship, he may have even been able to stop this war in its tracks.

[look-better-in-gold]

one thing i think one piece fans forget is that for most of the characters in it having the d initial doesn’t mean anything. we don’t find out it’s anything to think about until skypiea while robin is talking to gan fall (who met roger) and he says “d.? i see. one letter of his name… that can’t just be a coincidence!!!” and laughs. we only know what we do bc luffy’s the main character. i guess you could argue kureha saying roger’s name is gol d. roger at the end of drum counts but it’s brushed off and you’re not like. encouraged to think about why it’s different. she only knows this bc she’s a REALLY old lady who was around when roger first set out. and gan fall met roger. law knows about it from cora, Who Used To Be A Celestial Dragon. nobody who knows about it is a normal citizen. the world government wants it to be a secret. they successfully wiped out 100 years of history. “the will of d.” or those “eat like a d.” jokes are NOT something everyone is making!!! GUYS. WE ONLY KNOW BECAUSE WE’RE THE VIEWERS. WE’RE WATCHING THE MOST POWERFUL PEOPLE IN THE WORLD RIGHT NOW. NOT EVERYONE WILL KNOW WHAT THEY DO!!!!

[tariah23]

They’re calling my baby Gojo, Joseph Joestar now

[vounoura]

I’ll consolidate my thoughts more coherently later but. I liked BG3 and I liked playing it, though I think a lot of the choices (mostly the act 3 ones) have an issue of not wanting to commit to their consequences and always give the player an out which is personally frustrating for me

[moonlightrafe]

⋆₊˚⊹♡ 18+, MDNI

Imagine best friend!JJ being in the middle of jacking off to photos of you when you call him. His cock is hard and pre-cum leaks from the tip as he scrolls through your instagram feed. Mainly clicking on the photos of you in bikinis.

A desperate whimper escapes him as he imagines it’s you wrapped around him instead of his hand.

JJ is quickly irritated when his phone first goes off and sets him off pace, but his demeanor changes once he sees that it’s your name lit up on the screen.

The right thing to do would be to let it go to voicemail. It would be disgusting, perverted, even, to pick it up… but he knows he’ll do it anyway. Since when did JJ ever do the right thing? He needs to hear your voice.

“Jayj?” you say when the line picks up and he instantly feels like his heart is going to beat right out of his chest.

“H-hey!” He chokes out, his voice on the brink of inaudibility.

“Hey Jay.”

Fuck. Your voice is perfect, he thinks.

“Um, what’s up?” He stutters as he continues to glide his hand over his thick cock, tugging at it harsher now than before.

“The boys mentioned they hadn’t heard from you yet today, so I wanted to let you know we’ll be down at the boneyard later.”

“Yeah? A party?” he asks coolly as he attempts to keep his composure, a sheen veil of sweat beading on his forehead.

“Mhm, and I need someone to protect me from those douchey, frat boy, kooks,” you flirt innocently, “so I was hoping you’d wanna come?”

Yes, he wanted to cum.

He wanted to cum on your stomach, in your mouth, inside your pussy. Just hearing you say the word nearly sent him over the edge. For a split second he was unable to respond, too focused on his pleasure.

He was close. Too close. It didn’t take much for JJ to cum these days — especially not when the pent up lust he had for you had reached new heights. He just needed you to talk to him some more with that sweet, angelic voice of yours.

As if you read his mind, you let out a deep sigh into the phone.

“Well, JJ? Are you coming or not?” you huff and that is all he needs to be sent over the edge.

“Fuck,” your best friend groans out.

“Yes! I’m— I’m coming,” he chokes into the phone, practically moaning at you as he pumps his cock a few more times, squeezing at the tip before spilling himself into his palm.

“I—I’ll be there,” he reassures you through bated breaths.

“Sheesh, Jay,” you giggle at his enthusiasm, oblivious to the situation. God, you were so fucking innocent.

“I’m glad to know you’re excited, I am too! I’ll see you there! Bye!”

JJ lets out a deep breath as the line disconnects down on your end.

“Yeah,” he mutters to himself, “I’ll see you there.”

He could consider himself totally fucked.

[screampied]

JAILBREAK. — SUGURU GETO. ☆

synopsis. you hate your job as a part time correctional officer. things change once you have to “babysit” one of the dangerous criminals of the a-block floor, suguru geto. but girl, maybe sleeping with an egotistical cocky ass inmate might have been your biggest mistake yet.

wc. 5.5k

warnings. modern au, fem!reader, pwp, inmate geto, corruption kink, degradation, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, geto has a tongue piercing, hair pulling, praise, overstim, reader’s kinda delulu

an. thank uuu @osaemu for beta readin someee!! inmate geto is my new hyperfixation omge

it was as if each shift became longer and longer, your daily occupation, nothing special, nothing fancy, just a correctional officer at some high maintenance prison near the city.

the stench of musk and sweat wafted around you, such a reoccurrence that it was practically normal. it was around midnight, as how most of your shifts were, and as you trod towards the secluded darkened space for only the inmates dangerous to themselves and others, you intake a breath before swiping your key near your hip, preparing to unlock the glass-like metal steel door.

“oh,” you close the door behind you, and that familiar deep voice does something to you.

what…?

you don’t know, but it had such bass in it, you turned to face the inmate, no one other than suguru geto. “…yo,” he mocks, giving you a sly head nod, his eyes scan up and down your body, your uniform and then your own meets his pursed lips. somehow, he managed to find a cigarette. again. “hmpf. they got the newbie watchin' me again? you do know that gun on your hip isn’t a toy, right?”

your eyebrows twitch, and your facial expressions formed into a deadpan as you walked towards him with his daily meal in hand. “yeah and i’m not afraid to use it on you if necessary.”

“ooh. rookie’s got jokes, that’s cute.” he grins.

you murmured, and he only smiles, he knows you didn’t mean that, he pissed you off, even if he wasn’t saying anything exactly. pulling out your staff notepad checklist of where you usually kept track of all the inmates attendance and meals, you uttered, “but anyways…” you blowed, “no one fed you today, suguru. you must be starving.”

“yeah, 'm starvin’ ‘n more ways than you can imagine, princess,” geto hums, and you suddenly freeze once the inmate stands up firm and tall. he’s just so damn big—broad wide shoulders, long slight shaggy dark toned hair, and with a split-second gaze, you look near geto’s orange jumpsuit. the bulge, yeah you spotted that immediately, but his tattoos…

his fucking tattoos.

“can you at least try to behave for a few minutes.” you sighed, and he's already getting on your last nerve. he could tell too…and damn was he was just getting nothing but pure amusement from your sheer irritation.

“eh, depends,” he speaks in a low gruff, his attention was on you and only you, raising his darkened thin arched brows before his lips converge into a witty smirk. “ya gonna feed me my food, babe? oh, you should know. poor inmate like me can’t feed myself when i’m all,” and he pauses while speaking, placing his hands in his lap — giving his wrists a slight shimmy and you hear the metal dance against his skin. “…handcuffed.”

it took everything within you to not smack this arrogant suave bastard, geto flirted with you whatever chance he got, with no shame either. you’re a pretty girl, well mannered, yet never took anyone’s shit, he liked that about you.

your job wasn’t to be taken lightly, it could be considered scary at times with the various inmates you have to deal on a day to day basis, but simply, you were just a girl with an attitude. but he wasn’t fond of brats, especially brats like you.

“…fine,” you mumbled, making your way towards him. he sat on the steel uncomfortable bed that was as usual, never made. geto practically lived in solitary confinement, they don’t call him the suguru geto for a reason. his name was known amongst many, he was feared worldwide. geto wasn’t exactly a good guy, far from it actually.

he’s a criminal and his record was… definitely spine chilling to say the least. “don’t try anything, just open your mouth.”

“hm, alright then.” he happily complies, his demeanor changes just a bit, and he’s more playful. geto opens his mouth just slightly and you spot tiny dimples form near the corners of his lips, and you gradually stick the spoon into his mouth, feeding him whatever food was made for the inmates of the night.

baked mash potatoes, geto stated it was one of his favorites and you just so happened to remember. a smile forms on his lips as you feed him. your eyes darted towards him, and now he’s just staring intimately at you.

that smirk that forever rested against his pink thinly parted lips.

“m-mhm.” he grunts, and your eyes widen just a bit, he was messing with you, and you don’t even realize geto’s got his hand gripped on your waist. stroking a thumb against your belt, you felt the feeling of him rubbing all against the firearm that was strapped tightly on you.

before you could smack his hand, geto swiftly brings you on top of his lap, stealing out a gasp from you at how quick he was with his movements. the silver spoon sticks out his mouth before you take it out, only to return him with an irritated glare.

“what do you think you’re doing?” you uttered, growing quite embarrassed yet trying to maintain a level-head.

“told ya,” he grumbles, swiping a tongue against the excess mash potatoes that remained near his lips. “i’m hungry, babe. that was good, but i’m not satisfied. i need more.”

“inmates in solitary confinement aren’t allowed to have seco—”

“pretty girl, you know what i’m talkin’ about,” geto chuckles, and you shiver a bit from feeling the soft pads of his thumb brush against the belt of your waist again. you were in uniform but this entire position was so dirty. not to mention, it’s not like this place of the prison was exactly secluded. it was, but there was bound to be people were walking by. “i’ve been seein’ the way you stare at me.”

he was just infuriating, but you didn’t know how to reply so…you didn’t. you just sat there on the inmate’s lap, with a quite dumb expression and he’s just eating it up. “geto—”

“it’s just you ‘n me, girl,” he slyly whispers, and his voice drops just a bit as he stops you from speaking. his touch against your waist just gave you more and more goosebumps. all the way up until you felt it. geto infamous boner that hid beneath his jumpsuit. he’s been incarcerated for at least three years now, in and out. he was for sure horny. you could just tell from his seductive gaze. “don’t gotta be shy. was waiting for you to show up if ‘m being honest. you’re not like the rest, y’know?”

that’s when you gasp, realizing his handcuffs were off — he must have took the key from your pocket, because he was just feeling you up now. you let off a surprised noise once you felt geto starting to make you grind against his lap, feeling his hefty bulge.

“sugu-” you mumbled, and he’s just staring at you with a sly grin pressing onto his lips, only before he leans directly up close to your neck, giving a part near your collarbone a soft deep suck.

you whine from feeling the near sharp edges of his teeth lightly dig into your skin, playfully.

“mhm, pretty thing like you isn’t fit to be workin’ here. cutesy little prison guard,” he sung, his warm breath wafts against your skin, “crushin’ on your inmates is real unprofessional, ya know. you could get fired.”

he was right, you could get fired. and perhaps he wasn’t lying about the second part too—you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t find suguru geto the slightest bit of attractive. because he was, he and you both knew it.

“don’t be stupid. i’m not crushing on you,” you denied, yet embarrassingly enough, your eyes widen at feeling geto air your words — his thick stubby fingers, two of them specifically runs down between your legs and you gasp again. “are you…crazy? there could be cameras in here.”

“so.”

“so? you’re trying to get me fired?” you raised your eyebrows, sitting up from his lap, and he’s playing with you entirely. stroking a rough scarred hand down your back. if it was any other inmate, you’d barely give them a second glance.

geto gives you direct eye contact, and he looks so handsome and lean back, but his messy long black strands of bangs nearly covers his eyes, making him appear to be ten times more feared.

“maybe,” then he chuckles. “it’s okay, if it makes ya feel any better. i fantasized about you at least once or twice while being secluded from the other inmates in this hellhole. i prefer you over the other annoying officers who’re always givin’ me shit.”

you were about to speak but suddenly you couldn’t—you realized how close you were to geto, propped up on his lap, propped up on his bulge. were you really throbbing right now? oh you definitely were.

pulsing, itching, aching.

“soooo, when was the last time you got laid?”

this guy.

“excuse me?” you stammer, entirely being taken aback. such smug fell off his tone, he cocked his head a certain way to let you know he was being genuine. in his own way, of course.

geto’s always been one to flirt with you whenever it was your shift to supervise him. his comments were always so bold. he’d purposely pitch his tone a bit low whenever he spoke to you, no one else. perhaps it was the incarcerated felon crushing on you.

“you heard me,” he mutters, giving you a sly glance. he ghosts a few fingers against your waist. you still don’t know why you’re happily sitting on his lap, but you were comfortable to say the least. “with your long hours i pretty much figure you don’t even have time to finger yourself, let alone get laid. poor baby.”

“…just shut up.” you chastised, his soothing warm words, the way he delivered those last two words as a form of mockery. it made you throb, you pinched yourself, feeling yourself grow out to be hot. 

“make me, girl.” he faked a pout on his lips, almost as if his speech was purposely dumbing you down, solely from the tone. geto teasingly cocks his head towards the right and a teeny smile stretched against his lips. 

and you did. 

he was just poking fun at you—you loathed it, the tension between you and geto, his expressions were relaxed and smug like you won’t do anything. 

so, what did you do? 

you silenced him…with a kiss. 

he’s taken aback, you’re taken aback, you don’t know what came over you but you just couldn’t stand him talking. 

his sly grin, you desperately wanted to wipe it off his face. geto leans back against his bunk. his breath gets caught in his throat with the way you initiated the lustful kiss, parting your mouth open just a bit. 

you can feel geto reaching for the firearm near your hip but with quick reflexes you smack his hand, and he chuckles, pulling you closer towards him. 

he tasted sweet, with a tang of spice. leaning his head forward, he felt your warm breath shudder against him which makes him let off a low grunt once he feels you start to rock against his lap.

geto didn’t expect for you to trail a finger down his jumpsuit. the soft nearly wrinkled fabric, unbuttoning it and he shudders at how you’re all frisky and bold. 

“easy now officer,” he whispers before pulling away, lips pink and glistening with a bit of spit. his voice was a mere rasp and it made you throb. “when i said make me, that’s not what i meant,” and then he smiles, tugging on your work pants. “but you’re something else. take off those pants, i’ve been meaning to show you something.”

geto wanted to show you his tongue, specifically his tongue piercing. not necessarily show you but make you feel it. 

when you kissed him, you felt it tickle against you. the tasteless titanium rubbing against your tongue. it left you all hot and bothered. 

he had you currently laid flat on your back, an entire needy mess, despite it only being a few minutes. how embarrassing…

it was just the way he curled his tongue, flicking it against your pussy, he’s sloppy. two big hands squeeze and grip against your inner thighs, long strands prickling against your legs as he swirled his tongue against your slit. 

“f-fuck,” you’d gasp out, tilting your neck down to stare at geto. he’s already returning your eyes with a coltish glance, puckering his lips briefly to create kissed everywhere between your legs. your hands rummaged through his long silk hair. giving it a firm tug, that earns a low grunt from geto that makes you pulse even more. “tickles, suguru.”

“does it?” he purrs in a cheeky tone, slowly flicking his tongue against your clit—you jounce, a gasp gets caught in your throat at the way the piercing shifts against your folds. the slight coldness of it makes your thighs ache for more “mhm. can’t get enough.”

you pant, tugging and gripping roughly on his hair, geto’s nose deep, his tongue was so greedy. it was just the way he grazed and moved his tongue against your labia. your two sweet flaps, you grew more whiny by the second. 

“s-suguru,” you’d squeak, biting down on your lip. you knew how wrong this was, so why did it turn you on even more? “think…think ‘m getting close.”

“yeah yeah, keep your legs open.” he cuts you off, and you stare down at him. he’s so nasty with his tongue, taking a brief second to spit right on your cunt, dragging a thumb between your slit. “do you get wet like this for all your other inmates?”

you stared down at him, feeling yourself grow more and more aroused by the second—your response was just giving him a subtle head shake. “no, just you.”

“just me?” he repeats, lowering his voice and it’s so attractive. “maybe you really are crushin’ on me.”

“shut up..” you hissed. your breathing started to become more and more erratic, your ears rang and you pulsed from how close you were starting to approach towards your orgasm. 

geto’s entire chin was polished with your sweet slick—covered in nothing but all of it. such a messy eater, each time you tug on his long strands of hair. his husky pitched groans continued to make you pulse.

his piercing slowly lapped against your cunt, and you gasped at the feeling of him inserting a finger inside slowly. 

“ooh, ‘s close isn’t it?” he teases, peppering kisses near your thighs now, nibbling on it playfully with his teeth. “you gonna make a mess for me? slutty prison guard?” 

“y-yes.” you squirmed, your hands idly dragging him closer against your pussy. he chuckles, his technique snatching your breath away quite literally. “suguru… gonna come. wanna cum.”

he lays his tongue flat, lapping and lapping against your clit, giving it a long sweet suck to where his mouth starts watering from the taste and you moan. “ask nicer. where’s your manners huh?”

“p-please,” you whined, growing frustrated, so pent up—your walls clenched around the two fingers he now had buried deep into your cunt. you whimper from the mere stimulation, the way he toys with your g-spot with his lengthy slender fingers had you throbbing pathetically. “let me cum please, s-suguru.”

“oh but i don’t know,” the inmate teases, using his free hand to pry open your thighs a bit more. the cute pout that spread across your lips at his words was so adorable, “aw poor baby,” he hums, playfully blowing against your pussy to watch you writhe in pleasure and utter desperation. “you’re so cute when you’re desperate.”

“suguru, please, please..” you whimpered, not even caring how you sounded. your sweet voice reverberated against the walls of the secluded kept room, own words coiling at your throat. 

he smiles. “how about this,” and for a terse moment…he stares right at you. with his tongue going over his lips, savoring your taste. “i let you cum, you promise to get me out of here.”

….

help him break out? 

all this so you could orgasm….

you swallowed, chest heaving and your legs felt nearly nonexistent. geto looked serious though, brushing a thumb against your sloppy clit. he awaited your answer and you were deep in pondering thought.

you’d for sure get fired, then again you did hate your job. 

the fact that you were even contemplating letting an inmate break out just to cum. you just wanted a release so bad, the way his tongue lapped against your pussy, the smooth texture of it flicking back and forth to where your toes curl. you wanted more, and maybe it was a bit concerning that you started to not even care about your profession anymore. 

“promise..”

“oh..?” he slyly remarks, for sure you were gonna at least deny or call him crazy, but a straight answer. he was amused—and the needy look on his face was all he needed to see. “hm, it’s a deal then. go ahead ‘n cum, pretty girl.”

your back arched in ecstasy, he’s holding onto your hips departing his fingers from inside you, and just his tongue’s doing the main finish. you shuddered as you felt yourself vibrate and twitch. the build up had you clenching around nothing but air. “f-fuck…” 

scorching, your body radiated and carried so much heat around it, your eyes started to roll and roll towards the very depths of your head. once you came, you slump back against the rickety mattress, one hand still firmly maintaining its grip on geto’s hair. 

“there there, ‘s okay,” he slyly purrs, making sure to clean you with his tongue. for a split second his eyes close, and geto brings a few kisses against your folds before sitting up to stare down at you. “c’mere.”

you sit up, giving geto a cute needful glance, you craved more and he knew that. you leaned in to kiss him, and he returns it with such filthy passion. geto’s handsy, his slick-smeared lips ghost against yours before he deepens it. a groan gets caught in his throat, and you whine once you feel him lay you down on your back.

he leans up against you and eagerly, you give the orange fabric pants of his jumpsuit a cute tug, a sign for him to take it off. 

“such an impatient little thing,” he murmurs right into your mouth. you whined, wanting him to keep kissing you but he keeps breaking away purposely, watching your lips quiver in desire. “how bad do you want me?”

“s-suguru.” you pouted, your hand finding its way towards his bulge. the strain in his pants, all because of you. 

“don’t ‘suguru’ me,” he rasps in a mocking tone, his body pressed against yours. and only then did you realize the size difference, how buff and well toned geto was. he was an inmate after all, he always had a consistent workout schedule. geto’s dark eyes stare into yours before he brushes a thumb against your glossed lips. “talk to me nice in that pretty voice of yours. you want me? say it then.”

the disappointed pout you had displayed on your lips remained there as you spoke, only to hear how whiney and desperate you were. 

“i want you suguru, please.” you sigh. 

“girl…you’re so unprofessional,” he snickers, a swift snicker leaves from his lips before you hear him shuffle in his suit. pulling down his matched set pants, he tugs near the edge and it goes down. “feel how hard you make me, officer.”

and you let out a soft gasp. 

geto lightly grabs you by the neck, and you let off a needy moan once he starts to rub your face against his boxers. the very imprint of his bulge. “all your fault. got me throbbin’ for you...”

“suguru,” you whined, a small pout spreading on your lips each second he continued to tease you. “suguru, s-stop teasing me.”

“just jokin’,” you plop down on your chest, the moment he lightly shoves you forward against the plush-cushioned bed frame. it creaked from the movements, quite rickety. “oh wow,” he utters in a low voice — quickly averting his eyes towards your work pants, briefly pulling them down to come full-view of your ass. “do correctional officers just…not wear panties or…?”

you let off a moan, feeling him skim a few fingers against your ass, holding back a noise once he presses the leaky fat tip of his cock against your throbbing entrance. 

“i…i forgot.” you whined, mouth watering — you wanted more than anything for him to be inside already. “i was rushing.”

“uh huh,” geto rolls his eyes, and you stared directly at him. the plump fat head of his swiped against your wet folds, a few taps and you were about to go crazy. “ooh. look at you trying to rush me.” 

he was such a tease, you could hear the playfulness in his tone. as geto hovered over you, he took a few moments before slowly easing his way inside you. 

his jaw clenches, and it’s sexy…

the way his muscles would tense all because of you. you were panting, legs just dumbly sprawled out. maybe it was unprofessional, participating in sexual activities with an inmate—yet, you just couldn’t help yourself. all the built up tension surrounding between the two of you. perhaps it was bound to happen. 

“fuck, ‘s warm..” he grunts, and he’s just barely halfway in. you chewed near the inside of your lip, nails clawing down his buff arms and he starts to pant himself. geto was huge. emphasis on huge. 

his happy trail was mesmerizing to look at, the way he had slightly black curly hair coating near the lower half of himself. it was well trimmed, yet much visible to see. the more he gently makes his way inside your cunt, you felt every mean inch. the curve geto had—it was hefty, you felt yourself starting to drool. 

a single vein throbbed, and you felt it. geto bites his tongue marginally. and once he’s fully in, he gives you a coy expression. 

“may i move, officer?” he snickers. 

“p-please.” you whimpered. 

“okay.” he hums, and the bass to his voice was just enough to get you wet. far wetter than you already were. such smoothness dripped from it, it was a deep pitch that always made your heart flutter and sink. 

once he starts up just a single thrust, your body jolts back and you gasp—finding your arms to suddenly grab onto him. 

geto chuckles. “dramatic thing, aren’t you.” you moaned, nails continuing to drag down how skin as you’re laid flat against your back. the angle was so deep and thorough, each hit against your pussy had your kind spasming. in an entire frenzy of you will. 

he leans in to pepper kisses all over your face, strands of his hair that was out tickled against your skin. by this point, he’s buried deep. your head goes back a bit and…oh, that same curve that he had, it continuously made an appearance. 

geto was buried between your legs, hefty sack just thwacking against you. your legs were perfectly bent, shoulder width apart. “f-fuck,” you’d stammer, suddenly clamping all around him. it took a few deep vigorous thrusts, but at this point he’s got your pussy memorizing his lengths size. geto spreads his knees for a more thorough base, his movements were so sloppy you could barely think straight. let alone process anything. “suguru, ‘s right there.”

“right there what?” he teases, leaning in to nibble near the bottom of your lip. the thin fabric of his jumpsuit brushes against your skin—you were just a mess. pulse after pulse, you wouldn’t be surprised if your brain was short circuiting. “i can’t hear ya when you mumble, baby.”

“fucking-” you spat, and he chuckles once you’re cut off with a deep kiss. geto vary’s his stance against you, and slides his tongue all throughout your mouth. it’s a rough and passionate kiss—so much so to where, he has you catching his breath. once you pull away, you moan, being brought back to reality from his ruthless smacks he’s making with his dick. “keep…keep hitting me there.”

he hums, giving your bottom lip a slow playful bite again, still ramming his hips against you at such a filthy pace. “is that an order?”

he was so annoying, that two second glance he’d give you—a smirk pressing against his lips, he definitely knew how to get under your skin. “please,” you corrected yourself, nails still running down his back. it pierced against his skin, earning a low husky grunt from him. “keep hitting me in that s-spot, suguru.”

“since ya asked so nicely,” he purrs, sneaking another kiss. this time near the very corner of your mouth. the taste was just glacé, sweet and all. simply divine.

you moaned into his mouth, and as his body weight pressed against yours — you shivered. he’s such a tease, geto starts to lightly ghost your cell keys against your bare tummy. your back arched immediately, the coldness of it just grazing against your skin. “you’re so sensitive.”

his soft, teasing words rang throughout your ears, and as you clung onto him—you felt yourself coming closer and closer. he gripped onto your legs, slightly raising them upward and you moan from the deep deep angled. “o-oh my god.” 

geto’s shallow mean strokes had your eyes rolling all the way back….way back to the very depths of your skull. if you weren’t drooling then, you certainly were now.

the moment he sees you pouting from how he cockily starts to slow down—geto pushes a bit more deeper, grinning from your legs now locking around his waist. 

moments later though, you both freeze at hearing the sound of footsteps approaching near the solitary steel door. 

right when you about to orgasm, you both stare at each other — and it’s another officer. you could tell by the loud echo of the keys dangling against their hips. 

“officer, you alright? been in there a while. we’re finishing up roll call then it’s time for the inmates to sleep.”

shit. 

you couldn’t stay quiet, that’d be suspicious, and you knew you had to say something. geto chuckles, still buried balls deep inside of you, leaning in to give your neck a long suck. your hands ran through his hair and you bit your lip, trying to muster up what to say. 

“your subordinate’s talking to you,” geto teases, and you gasp from how he suddenly pistons his hips, such sloppy ruthless thrusts your breath was merely taken away. “don’t be a rude girl.”

“s-shut up,” you whined, putting a hand in his face and he playfully kisses it. you stop a moan from escaping your lips before you project your voice lightly. “uh, yeah. everything’s good. inmate suguru geto’s asleep. i’m just—just finishing up then i’ll take care of his dishes.”

“alright,” the lower rank replies, and your legs start to shake and jostle against geto. he’s staring at you, just wanting for you to slip up. a few awkward seconds pass before the officer continues to speak. “are we still on for tonight?”

you gulped, and geto raises his brows before whispering into your neck. “…oh, tonight, yeah?”

by all means, you felt so embarrassed, heat rises up to your cheeks as if your entire body wasn’t already burning up from his weight pressing down against you.

you ended up cumming mid-convo, and had to cover your mouth to not be so noisy. you clenched all around geto, just a twitching and spasming mess. 

“y-yeah, we are.”

“good, good,” he speaks through the other end of the closed steel door. poor officer, he sounds so ecstatic, a bit of confidence running through his tone. “i’ll see you then, pumpkin.”

geto blurted out laughing and you had to slap a hand against his mouth. the moment the coast is clear and he walks away, you glare and he simpers. 

“pumpkin,” he repeats, mimicking your co-workers accent. “i didn’t know you had plans. have me looking like a fool, hmpf.”

“my private life isn’t your busin—” and you get cut off once geto abruptly sits you upright, to where you’re just straddling him. you moan, your cunt still being stuffed full of his thick inches — and for a moment, you felt his vein prod against you. 

geto groans, seeing how your pupils were all dilated from your recent release. “yeahhh, it isn’t,” he says, grabbing ahold of your waist. you’re rocking back and forth and he’s so thick that you’re just completely cockdrunk and dizzy. “but ‘m having too much fun with you.”

you gasp once you feel the back of geto’s hand roughly smack your ass again, and again, and again. he loves the recoil — you hiss from the sting as your hips roll and maneuver against his lap. “you’re such a dirty girl. i don’t want you to go on that date. stay with me.”

“y-you can’t be serious.” you muttered, arms thrown over his neck. and for a brief moment, it was almost as if you heard a faint of jealously lingering on his tone. it made you throb, this high and mighty notorious inmate feeling this way…for a nobody like you. 

“dead serious, baby,” he utters, and you can sense geto’s close too from the way his jaw tightens. his head tilts back and he bites down on his lip. “that way i won’t be less lonely. talking to the wall ‘n everything.”

oh right, he was in solitary confinement. purposely secluded from the other guards and inmates. geto was considered a danger, yet here you were — stupidly bouncing on his dick. 

“but ‘m not so lonely now that you’re here,” he coos against your ear, and you whimper once he drags a hand down between your legs. he gives your pussy a few mean spanks and you whimpered. “fuck, keep moaning in my ear like that ‘n i’m gonna give you so much of my cum.”

“i need it.” you pleaded, tears swelling up in your eyes, you genuinely didn’t know what got over you — your body was so achy, each time he traced his fingers down your body, you whined. you didn’t care anymore, you just wanted to be filled. 

geto groans, and his hefty base kept smacking back against you, your hips jerked as you tightly held onto him, marking up the very inner part of his neck with soft bite marks. 

“f-fine,” he grumbles, and his voice gets a bit high, he’s growing out to be sensitive from the pressure building up. he even gets a tad bit whiney himself. the constant skin smacking makes him kiss his teeth, and his head throws back yet again—long pretty hair flowing against his shoulders. “god, you’re so fuckin’ nasty. riding me this g-good.”

you even start to tug on his hair, and that makes him moan even more. not like he minded. it turned him on, needless to say. 

once geto came, it was thick, so much that it instantly spilled out of your cunt. you paused your hips, and he silenced his groans by grunting against your neck. he’s shaking just as much as you were — and it came out in velvety ropes, spurting and spurting. 

“take it all,” he hisses, gripping onto your waist tightly. you whimper, grinding against him just for a few seconds and he’s for once speechless. “damn, those hips of yours is so deadly, fuck.”

you whined, sitting up and he pulls out of you, watching his own cum spill and drip out. geto brings a thumb towards your clit to smear it all over your pussy, an image that was a something he’d never erase from his mind. 

you panted, hitting your back against his bunk while geto leans in to kiss you deeply. you kissed back, dragging your tongue against his, feeling his warm breath fan against yours before he pulls away with a weary expression. 

“good girl,” he murmurs, peppering a soft kiss near the side of your mouth. “remember my promise?” 

“yeah.” you exhale, trying to catch your breath. your legs felt like jello — head clouded and entirely empty, not a single thought in your mind. 

he smiles. “good. because i forgot to tell ya something else,” and you stare at him, a soft confused head tilt, watching him re-adjust his jumpsuit, pulling his boxers and pants part up. “have fun being in solitary by yourself.”

“wait w-what?” you stammer, and reaches the door, your own keys in hand — and you couldn’t have felt anymore stupid. geto chuckles, with a sly shrug. “princess, you were so gullible. letting me take your keys,” and he unlocks the huge latch before grinning. “but hey, don’t feel too bad. you have a date tonight.”

you glare, overwhelmed with emotions before spitting out a, “fuck you.”

“you literally just did,” he wriggles his eyebrows. “don’t worry. i’ll come back for you,” and then he opens the steel door.

yet before slamming it, he gives you a wink and that same sly grin. “nah i’m just kidding, no i won’t. sorry.”

[goldsainz]

# DREW STARKEY — ACTORS ON ACTORS !

MASTERLIST !

001. SUMMARY !

✯ drew and you participate in variety’s “actors on actors” series.

002. WARNINGS !

✯ cursing, talking about nude scenes, probably inaccurate acting experiences.

003. NOTE !

✯ sorry to all the actors i stole roles from😭 also zendaya is used as a face claim for the social media but the writing is inclusive and has no descriptors of physical appearance… or at least i hope so.

word count : 5,4k (chat i got carried away)

The cozy studio was bathed in warm light, designed almost as if to feel like a welcoming living room. Two plush chairs faced each other, separated by a low coffee table adorned with a few carefully placed books and a small vase of fresh flowers. Everything about the space was crafted to exude intimacy and warmth, inviting open conversation.

Drew Starkey entered the room first, his usual calm confidence mingled with a tinge of nervous energy. He smoothed his shirt absentmindedly and scanned the setup, trying to ground himself in the moment. He was used to being in front of cameras, but this felt different. This wasn’t just about promoting a project or answering rapid-fire questions on a press junket. This was you.

“Hello,” Drew started, a smile gracing his features as he took in the fact that he was sitting right in front of his number one celebrity crush. His hand hovered awkwardly in a small wave, as if he couldn’t believe this was real.

“Hi,” you said back, a giggle falling past your lips when you noticed his sheepish look. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” he said, his voice just a little higher than usual. Drew cleared his throat, laughing at himself, which made you laugh too. “Sorry, I’m… a little nervous.”

“Oh, don’t be,” you reassured him with a warm smile. “I promise, I don’t bite.”

“Good to know.” He chuckled, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “How are you doing?”

“I’m great, thank you. What about you?”

“Pretty good, can’t complain.” A laugh bubbled out of him, and subsequently, you. The way he rubbed the back of his neck made you think he was still pinching himself that this was happening.

The cameras rolled, capturing the easy charm and immediate chemistry between the two of you. 

Drew’s grin widened as he began. “First of all, let me just say—I’m completely starstruck right now. I mean, the way you completely own every role you take on... it’s incredible.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, a bashful laugh escaping as you waved off the compliment. “Oh, stop it. You’re making me blush!”

“I’m serious,” he pressed, leaning forward slightly. “You’re like… the blueprint. If I ever get even halfway to where you are, I’ll consider myself lucky.”

“Well, now you’re just flattering me,” you said, your voice teasing but your cheeks undeniably warm. “But thank you, that’s so sweet. And honestly, you’re being way too hard on yourself. You’re incredible in Queer. You’ve got this natural charm that just lights up the screen.”

“Natural charm, huh?” He smirked, pretending to preen, which made you laugh again. “I’ll take that.”

“Good,” you replied, smiling. “You should, because it’s true.”

Drew’s gaze softened, the teasing giving way to something more earnest. “That means a lot, really. Especially coming from you. You’re like… Hollywood royalty to many.”

You tilted your head, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “To many, huh? And are you part of this many?”

Drew’s eyes widened, and he laughed, a little caught off guard. “Oh, absolutely. I’ve got a lifetime membership to the fan club.”

“Good to know,” you teased, crossing your legs and leaning back in your chair with an air of mock superiority. “I’ll have to start charging you membership fees.”

“Totally worth it,” he shot back, his grin widening.

“Well, thank you,” you said with a soft laugh, “So, we’ve both got some things in common, which I think is pretty cool.”

“Like working with Daniel Craig?” he asked.

“Yes! Honestly, I still reminisce about our time on set… he’s genuinely incredible, isn’t he?”

“He is, yeah. I found myself just admiring him and sort of forgetting I had to act too. He’s just… he’s on another level, for sure.”

“Daniel’s a master of his craft… Most of my scenes as Paloma in No Time To Die were with him, and at first I was so nervous because, like, what if I messed up in front of the Daniel Craig?” Drew let out a laugh at your words, and you couldn’t help but laugh too. “But when he noticed I was nervous he reassured me that it was all good. He’s just the best.”

“You’ve worked with so many high-profile actors.” You nod slightly at his words, as if it were the most common thing in the world. “Are you always nervous when meeting them, or was it just a Daniel thing?”

“It wasn’t just Daniel, no, but I think it depends. For example, when I did Oppenheimer with Cillian Murphy, for some reason I felt more relaxed… even though I had some nude scenes with him.”

“Nude scenes just make you connect, don’t they?” he joked, leaning back with a sly grin.

“They do, actually,” you replied, leaning into the banter. “You’d think they’d be worse, but honestly, with the amount of seriousness and concentration they take, it’s like you don’t have time to be nervous.”

“You clearly pulled it off flawlessly,” Drew said with mock solemnity. 

“You did too in Queer.” You compliment him, “I watched it a few days ago, and the chemistry you had with Daniel was just off the charts.”

Drew’s face lit up, a mix of pride and bashfulness crossing his features. “Daniel’s an amazing scene partner. He really made it easy for me to tap into everything.”

“Well, it shows,” you said. “It was such a raw and beautiful performance. I might’ve shed a tear or two.”

“Okay, now you’re just trying to make me blush,” Drew teased, pointing at you with a playful squint. “But seriously, that means a lot coming from you.”

“Hey, give credit where it’s due,” you shot back with a grin. “You’ve got this way of making everything feel so real. Like when you’re in pain, we’re in pain. When you’re in love, we’re falling right alongside you.”

“Wow,” he said, shaking his head as if to clear it. “I don’t know what to do with all these compliments. This is the best therapy session I’ve ever had.”

You laughed, crossing your legs and leaning forward slightly. “Well, I’m glad I could help. But now I’m curious—how did you prepare for a role like that? I mean, it’s so emotionally intense, no?.”

“It was a lot of journaling, a lot of talking with Luca about backstory and motivations,” Drew explained, his tone more thoughtful. “And honestly, I kind of drew from real-life experiences. Not the exact ones, obviously, but just feelings of vulnerability and… wanting to be understood.”

“That’s beautiful,” you said softly, your smile turning tender. “It’s amazing how much of ourselves we pour into these characters.”

“Exactly,” Drew agreed. “And sometimes it’s terrifying, but when it resonates with people, it feels worth it.”

“It definitely resonated with me,” you assured him. “And I’m sure with countless others too.”

“That’s really nice to hear,” he said with a soft smile.

“How was it for you to work with Luca? Because I remember it being one of the highlights of my career.”

Drew’s eyes lit up at the mention of Luca Guadagnino, and he leaned forward slightly, as if the memory itself was a magnet pulling him closer. “Oh, working with Luca was… incredible,” he said, his voice laced with awe. “He’s got this way of creating such a safe, open space on set. It’s almost like he’s not just directing—he’s inviting you into this world he’s building in his head.”

You nodded eagerly, your own memories of working with Luca bringing a nostalgic smile to your face. “I know exactly what you mean. He makes it feel like you’re collaborating on this deeply personal piece of art, rather than just executing someone else’s vision.”

“Exactly!” Drew said, gesturing animatedly. “And he has this way of pulling things out of you that you didn’t even know you had. Like, he’ll ask you one simple question, and suddenly you’re diving into this emotional rabbit hole.”

You laughed, tilting your head in agreement. “He asked me once, ‘What would this character, Maren in my case, dream about?’ and it completely changed how I approached the next scene.”

Drew’s mouth dropped open in mock surprise. “He asked me the exact same question!”

“No way!” you exclaimed, your laughter spilling out in disbelief. “I love that! It’s honestly such a deceptively simple question, but it opens up so many layers.”

“It really does,” Drew said, chuckling. “And then you’re sitting there like, ‘Okay, now I have to rethink everything I thought I knew about this character.’”

“It’s kind of genius, though,” you added. “He makes you work harder, but not in a way that feels forced. It’s like… he trusts you to figure it out, but he gives you these breadcrumbs to follow.”

“Exactly,” Drew said again, his tone growing softer. “I think that’s why his films feel so intimate, he gets the human part so right.”

You smiled, letting his words settle in the air for a moment. “I think that’s what makes working with him feel like such a privilege. It’s not just about telling a story—it’s about feeling it.”

Drew nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “And those are the moments that stick with you, you know? The ones where you felt something real, even if it was just for a moment.”

“Completely,” you agreed, your voice soft with sincerity. “Those moments are why we do this.”

For a moment, the two of you sat in companionable silence, the weight of the conversation settling in the cozy studio. Then, Drew broke the quiet with a grin. “Okay, but did Luca make you do those impromptu rehearsals at, like, the crack of dawn?”

“Oh my God, yes!” you burst out, your eyes widening. “I’d just roll out of bed with zero coffee and somehow be expected to pour my soul into a scene.”

Drew laughed, his face lighting up. “Right? It’s like, ‘Good morning, here’s your emotional breakdown for the day.’”

You laughed along with him, the shared experience adding another thread to the easy camaraderie forming between you. “But honestly, I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.”

“Same,” Drew said, his expression softening again. “For Luca? Anytime.”

“Absolutely,” you agreed, your eyes locking with his for a moment before the warmth of the studio light reminded you both that the cameras were still rolling.

Drew shifted in his seat slightly, his expression thoughtful. “You know, it’s kind of wild—hearing you talk about all these incredible experiences. You’ve been doing this for so long, and yet it’s like you’re just getting started.”

You tilted your head with a small smile. “That’s sweet of you to say. But yeah, I guess I have been in this industry for most of my life. It’s all I’ve ever really known.”

Drew’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s crazy to think about. I didn’t even consider acting until after college. You must’ve been, what, ten? Eleven?”

“Eight, actually,” you corrected with a chuckle. “My first role was in this little indie film. I was basically just the kid who ran around in the background eating ice cream, but I thought it was the coolest thing ever.”

He laughed, clearly amused. “That’s adorable. And now you’re the Hollywood It Girl. No big deal.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, your laughter light. “Oh, stop it. But yeah, it’s been a journey. Growing up on sets definitely shaped me, for better or worse. Sometimes I wonder what it would’ve been like to have a more ‘normal’ childhood.”

Drew’s smile softened. “That must’ve been such a whirlwind. I can’t even imagine starting that young. I didn’t even think about acting seriously until high school.”

“Oh, I’ve read about that!” You said, your voice lighting up. “You were all about sports growing up, right?”

“Yeah,” Drew admitted with a chuckle. “I was your typical small-town kid—baseball, basketball, you name it. I was convinced I was going to go pro in something, but clearly, that didn’t pan out.”

“Well, I think acting suits you pretty well.” 

“Thank you,” he says with a soft laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “But yeah, the real shift happened in high school when I joined a drama class. It was all Samuel Beckett and absurdist plays, which at the time I thought was the coolest thing ever.”

You leaned forward, intrigued. “So that’s what pulled you in? Drama class?”

“Pretty much,” he said with a nod. “And then I went to Western Carolina for college. I double-majored in English and theater, thinking, ‘If this acting thing doesn’t work out, I’ll at least have a backup plan.’”

“That’s so realistic of you,” you said with a laugh. “Meanwhile, I was ten, telling anyone who’d listen that I was going to win an Oscar one day.”

“And look at you now,” Drew said, gesturing to you with an almost reverent smile. “You made it happen.”

You chuckled, a bit flustered by his admiration. “Well, not quite, just an Oscar nominee for now. But thank you. You know, I think your journey’s pretty incredible too. A double major? That’s no joke. And starting later in the game like you did… it must have felt like a slow burn, but it’s clearly paid off.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Drew said thoughtfully. “It was definitely a slower burn for me. I didn’t land my first real gig until I’d been auditioning for what felt like forever.”

“I think that makes your journey even more special,” you said, your tone sincere. “You came into it with all this life experience and maturity. It shows in your work, you know? There’s this depth to your performances that’s just… rare.”

Drew’s ears turned a little pink, and he laughed softly, glancing down at his hands. “Wow, you’re gonna make me blush over here.”

“Good,” you said with a teasing smile. “It’s only fair after all the compliments you’ve been throwing my way.”

He looked up, his grin sheepish but warm. “Touché. But seriously, hearing that from someone like you—someone who’s been at this for so long and is so insanely talented—it means a lot.”

“Well,” you replied with a playful tilt of your head, “I think it’s safe to say we’re officially mutual fans.”

Drew laughed at that, the sound easy and genuine. “I can live with that.”

The conversation shifted into more comfortable territory as the two of you shared experiences, trading stories about acting and the film industry. Drew, now feeling at ease, leaned forward with renewed interest.

“You know,” he began, a thoughtful expression crossing his face, “I've been thinking about how different TV shows and movies are, especially when it comes to the pacing and character development. Like, in a show, we have to maintain this ongoing energy for the characters over multiple seasons. But with movies, it’s a totally different vibe, right?”

You nodded, understanding immediately where he was going. “It’s definitely a huge shift. With TV, you’re given time to build on a character slowly. Every episode is another chapter, so you can explore new facets of them and keep the audience hooked for longer periods of time. But movies, they’re this intense sprint. You have to get everything across in just two hours or so, but in a way that feels just as layered and satisfying.”

Drew's eyes lit up with excitement, clearly passionate about the topic. "Exactly! You have to balance the action and suspense while still giving the characters these moments of vulnerability. Over multiple seasons, you can really let them grow and change. It's like a slow burn. But when you're doing a movie, you don’t have the luxury of that buildup. It has to be this concentrated emotional punch right from the start.”

“That’s one of the biggest challenges of film, for sure," you agreed. "In a film, every second counts. You can’t afford to waste a moment. But I think what’s also interesting is how both mediums can explore a character’s journey from different angles. TV shows can dive into their backstory in more detail, but movies... they really need to hit those emotional beats and leave an impact without dragging it out."

Drew smiled, clearly engaged in the discussion. “In TV shows you need that perfect balance of suspense, character development, and personal growth. And then, at the end of the season, you drop a huge bombshell that leaves people wanting more.”

You laughed, raising an eyebrow playfully. “Sounds like you’ve been doing some serious thinking about it. What’s the secret to keeping the audience hooked without losing the depth of your character?”

He leaned back, his expression thoughtful. “Well, I think it’s about letting the characters evolve with the story. You need to make sure the audience sees the human side of your character, even when they're in these crazy situations. It’s what keeps people invested in the long run.”

“You’ve really got the process figured out,” you said with a smile. “But you’re right—it’s a different rhythm for TV. With a movie, you get to go deep quickly, but with a show, you have to keep it dynamic and varied. And let’s not forget, you need that cliffhanger at the end to make people binge-watch the next season.”

Drew’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “You’re giving away all the secrets! Next thing you know, people will be expecting a cliffhanger every time they watch a movie."

“Well, movies and TV are both art, but they demand different approaches,” you said, “and you’re doing an amazing job balancing both. I’m honestly so excited to see where your career goes next. Both worlds are lucky to have you.”

He chuckled softly, clearly humbled. “Thanks. I think I’m just lucky to be a part of both. I mean, who wouldn’t want to be in a show that gets people talking for days?”

“Right? You’ve got Outer Banks, which has such a dedicated fanbase, and then movies like Queer that touch people in such a different way. It’s amazing to watch your versatility.”

He leaned in slightly, a playful glint in his eyes. “I’m just trying to keep up with you. Honestly, your transition from action to more emotional roles is inspiring. I hope I can pull off something even close to what you’ve done with your career.”

Your smile softened, your voice sincere. “Well, you’re already doing it, Drew. You’re already there. It’s not just about the roles—it’s about the heart you put into them. And you’ve definitely got that.”

Drew’s smile faltered for a moment, the weight of your words sinking in. His gaze softened, as if he were truly reflecting on what you’d said. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms but keeping his eyes on you, his expression thoughtful.

“It's crazy, isn't it?” He began, his voice a little quieter now, “The idea of giving so much of yourself to something that feels so... intimate. But when it works, when the audience feels it too, there's nothing like it.”

“Exactly,” you agreed, your voice a little quieter now. “That's the real magic, when the audience feels like they know the characters, like they're right there with them. It’s not about the plot twists or the fancy sets—it’s about the emotions that we build and share with them.”

Drew nodded thoughtfully, his gaze drifting away for a moment before returning to you. “Speaking of emotions, I just saw your new movie, We Live In Time,” he said, his voice taking on a softer tone. “It’s one of those films that stays with you, you know? It’s raw in a way that makes you uncomfortable, but it’s also beautiful. How did you tap into that for Almut?”

Your expression softened as you thought back on the experience. We Live In Time had been a journey—a raw, almost therapeutic one. “It was an emotional rollercoaster, honestly,” you said, leaning back slightly, letting the memory settle in. “I think the hardest part was showing that moment where her whole world shifts. It was such a raw, profound type of emotion I had to channel in order to do justice to the character and her experiences.”

Drew sat back, letting the weight of the conversation settle. “I think that's what makes your career so incredible. You never just play a character. You become them. And you take us with you. Every heartbreak, every triumph, every moment of doubt... we feel it all with you. That's what makes your work so powerful.”

You met his gaze, feeling the depth of the conversation linger between you both. “It’s all about connection, right? Connecting with the character, with the audience, and with the emotions that we all share as humans. Because at the end of the day, we’re all just trying to make sense of time, love, and the moments we get.”

Drew smiled, his expression genuine and soft. “Well, you’ve definitely made sense of it for me. We Live In Time—it’s not just a movie. It’s a reminder to cherish what we have. And that, in itself, is something special.”

You smiled back, your heart full as you let the words sink in. “Thank you, Drew. That’s really sweet of you.”

You both shared a comfortable silence for a moment, before Drew broke it with a playful grin. “You know, it’s clear you’ve mastered the art of vulnerability on screen, but I can’t help but wonder—did you ever have moments on set where it was just... impossible to take things seriously?”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Oh, absolutely. In fact, as a kid, it was all impossible to be serious,” you admitted, shaking your head at the memory. “I remember this one time during a scene on set when I was probably around 9 or 10. We were supposed to be doing this emotional scene, and I had to cry on cue. But instead of crying, I couldn’t stop giggling. It was a dramatic moment, and my co-star was all serious and trying to get through the scene, but I just... lost it.”

Drew raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Giggling during a dramatic scene? What happened?”

“Well, my director, bless her heart, kept trying to give me these 'serious actor' looks. She was this no-nonsense kind of woman, and she had this way of narrowing her eyes when things weren’t going well. I tried my best to hold it together, but then my co-star—who was way too good at being serious—looked at me and just gave this super intense stare, and that was it. I burst out laughing right in the middle of the take.”

Drew chuckled, shaking his head. “I can just picture that. You were probably trying to hold it together, but it must have been so hard with all that tension in the air.”

“I swear, the more I tried not to laugh, the harder it became,” you continued, grinning at the memory. “It was one of those moments where you’re like, 'Why am I even here? I can’t do this.' But somehow, I got through it. The director had to take a deep breath, and we did a few more takes. Eventually, we got it done, but I think we all were on the verge of cracking up the whole time.”

Drew let out a laugh, clearly imagining the scene. “I can’t blame you. I feel like as a kid, you have no filter. Everything feels like a joke, and it’s so hard to be serious when everyone else is trying so hard.”

“You have no idea,” you said, your voice still light. “There were so many times I’d be doing a serious scene, and I’d start thinking about something random, like a certain meme or a funny sound someone made on set—and then, bam, it was game over. I’d be holding in a laugh like my life depended on it.”

Drew smirked, leaning in a little. “I totally feel that. I mean, as an adult, I still have moments where I struggle to keep a straight face. I once had a scene where I was supposed to be super intense, but the prop guy was standing just out of frame, and he made this ridiculous face at me—completely threw me off. I couldn’t stop laughing, and it ended up taking hours to finish the scene because we kept cracking up. Honestly, I think the crew started to get annoyed with us after a while.”

“See?” you said with a grin. “It never really changes. Truthfully, the older you get, the harder it becomes to hold it in. But then you look at the footage and realize how much fun you actually had, and that makes it all worth it.”

Drew nodded thoughtfully, a playful twinkle in his eyes. “Yeah, that’s the thing. Sometimes it’s the moments you didn’t plan for that end up being the most memorable. Like when you have a laugh on set, and suddenly you feel closer to everyone, even though you’re supposed to be in character.”

“Exactly,” you said, your smile widening. “There’s something so beautiful about those unscripted moments. It reminds you that acting is, at its core, about connecting—whether that’s through laughter or the heavy stuff. And even though I had my fair share of giggling fits as a kid, I think those moments taught me just as much as the serious ones. Maybe more.”

Drew leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “It's funny how those little moments—like a laugh in the middle of a serious scene—can end up being the ones you remember the most. I think those are the ones that make the work feel real, you know?”

You smiled, your gaze distant as you reflected on the years of working on sets. “I know exactly what you mean.”

“Yeah, like those unscripted moments,” Drew added, his voice quieter now, as if the weight of the sentiment lingered in the air. “They give the performance an authenticity that you can’t get from just following the script to a tee.”

You nodded, the words hanging between you like a shared understanding. “Exactly. And as a kid, I was so focused on getting it ‘right’—on being perfect—that I missed the beauty of just being in the moment. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized how important it is to let go of the idea of perfection. It's in those mistakes, the wrong takes, the bloopers—that's where you find the truth.”

Drew's expression softened, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that made your chest tighten. “I think it’s key not to be afraid to show the mess, the imperfect parts of a character, because that’s what makes them human.”

A small chuckle escaped you, the warmth of the moment filling the studio. “Right? We’re all just a little bit of a mess, trying to figure it out, but that’s what makes the journey worth it. We’re constantly learning, constantly evolving, and we bring that to our work. The growth, the mistakes—it all shapes us.”

Drew nodded, his gaze shifting as if reflecting on those same ideas. “Yeah, and the growth never stops, does it? Just when you think you’ve figured it out, something new happens, and it challenges you again.”

“That's the beauty of it,” you said, your voice quieter now, the bond between you both deepening. “The challenge is what keeps it exciting, keeps you moving forward.”

Drew grinned, a playful spark lighting his eyes once more. “Well, I guess we’re both lifelong students of this thing called acting, huh?”

“Absolutely,” you said with a laugh, the lightness returning. “And just like any good student, we’ll always be learning. Who knows, maybe we'll even get better at not laughing in the middle of dramatic scenes.”

Drew let out a hearty laugh, nodding enthusiastically. “I think that’s going to take years of practice, honestly.”

You both shared a moment of genuine laughter, the warmth of your conversation filling the space around you. You leaned back into the chairs, the laughter still lingering in the air, a sense of camaraderie that made the space between you feel comfortable and open. You continued sharing stories, moving seamlessly from one experience to the next.

The conversation began to slow, the easy flow of stories fading into a comfortable silence, as you both shared an unspoken understanding. The light laughter that had filled the room now felt like a warm, lingering hum between you.

Drew shifted slightly in his chair, his gaze turning toward you with a subtle, thoughtful expression. “You know,” he began, his voice softer now, “I really hope we get to work together sometime. I think it’d be incredible. It’s the kind of thing where I can already imagine what it’d be like. Just... easy, real. Like this.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but you kept your composure, offering a smile that spoke volumes. “I’d love that. If you receive a call from your manager these days… maybe I had something to do with it, so be prepared.”

The air between you both was charged, the quiet intensity of the moment not lost on either of you. There was something unspoken, something deeper that neither of you addressed outright but that seemed to hang there all the same. The connection was undeniable, yet it lingered in the silence, unspoken, but clear.

Drew finally broke the spell with a playful grin, his eyes flicking back to yours. “Oh, I’ll be ready. Can’t wait to see what magic we create together.”

You returned his smile, your heart racing ever so slightly, though you kept it hidden behind the ease of your words. “I’m sure it’ll be something incredible.”

As the interview wrapped up, there was a lingering sense of something unspoken between you both, an attraction that neither of you had to mention but was so clearly felt. The kind of connection that could only be hinted at, but would never truly fade. It was the kind of moment that would stay with both of you long after the cameras stopped rolling.

“Thank you,” you said softly as the final moments of the interview started to loom, your voice carrying a depth that reflected everything unsaid between you. “This has been amazing. Honestly, it feels like we’ve been talking for hours, and yet it still doesn’t feel like enough.”

He nodded, his expression soft but genuine. “I feel the same way. This has been one of the most honest and open conversations I’ve had in a long time.”

The crew began to pack up, signaling that the interview was at its end, but neither of you seemed in any hurry to break the moment. The usual chatter and movement around you felt distant, as if the two of you were in your own world for just a little longer.

“You know,” Drew said, his voice quieter now, a hint of sincerity threading through, “I think we make a pretty good team even just sitting here talking. Imagine what we could do with a whole script.”

Your smile softened, and you nodded, the words feeling right, but the undertone of something more—something unsaid—hung in the air. “Yeah, I think we’d be unstoppable.”

The moment stretched between you both, filled with the kind of comfortable tension that comes when you realize you’ve shared something real. Something that felt like it could turn into something more.

You both stood up, a final, lingering moment before the usual goodbye. Drew extended a hand, his gaze holding yours a beat longer than necessary.

“Take care, okay?” he said, his voice warm, like the words carried more than just a polite farewell.

You shook his hand, the warmth of his touch lingering just a moment longer than expected. “You too, Drew,” you replied, your voice soft yet carrying an undercurrent of meaning that mirrored his own.

As you turned to gather your things, you couldn’t help but glance back over your shoulder. He was still standing there, watching you with that same thoughtful expression, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. The faintest smile curved his lips, as if he were replaying the conversation in his mind.

“See you around,” he called out, the words simple but loaded with promise.

“Yeah,” you said, meeting his gaze one last time. “See you around.”

Walking away, you felt a peculiar lightness, as though something intangible had shifted, leaving you both exhilarated and curious. It wasn’t every day you met someone who made you feel seen in such a profound way, and as you left the studio, you found yourself smiling, a quiet hope blooming in your chest.

And for a fleeting second, you allowed yourself to wonder what could come next.

[laurasimonsdaughter]

Picture this: Dragons using their caves to age cheese. Dragon Cheesemakers!!

The dragon coiled his enormous body, completely blocking the entrance of the tunnel that lead to the caves.

“No,” he snarled, smoke pluming from his nose.

The cheesemonger pinched the bridge of her own nose. “Look, I explained this to you at the start,” she tried once more. “I make cheese.”

“Yes,” the agreed, nodding his scaly head.

“Then I bring the cheese here.”

“Yes.”

“Then you store all the cheese in your cave, keeping it at the perfect temperature and humidity.”

“Yes.” He sounded particularly proud of this part.

“And then when the cheese has ripened,” she concluded. “I come to pick the cheese up again.”

A thunderous scowl clouded his maw. “No.”

“But that’s how it works!” she cried in exasperation. “I make the cheese, you store the cheese, I sell the cheese, I make more cheese!” She peered up at him. “You do realise I cannot bring you new cheese until I have sold this cheese.”

The dragon considered this for a moment. “Ah, but what if—” he began. “What if you go and make more cheese. And bring me the cheese. And I put it in my cave, with the rest of the hoard. And then I keep it there forever.”

“No,” she said flatly.

It was remarkable how much a dragon could look like it had just swallowed a lemon.

“You can’t keep cheese forever,” she insisted. “It will spoil and go bad!”

“You said it would get better and better!” the dragon roared indignantly. “And I take good care of them! With the air flow and the humidity and the temperature!”

“And that is great,” she said, trying to smile through her frustration. “But when a cheese is ripe, it’s ripe! Then you should not be kept anymore, it should be eaten.”

The dragon scraped it’s formidable claws against the stony ground and sulked.

“Look…” The cheese mongering business did not tend to require a lot of sweet-talking, but she was making an effort. “I’m sure the cheeses that aged in your cave are the best cheeses people have ever tasted. When they find out how delicious they are they will want us to make loads more. Maybe several caves’ worth!”

The reptilian eyes stared at her with disgruntled, reluctant interest. “Several caves?”

“If we’re lucky! And I could make so much cheese that I could bring you new cheese as soon as I pick up the aged cheese. Your cave would never even be empty!”

This seemed to strike a chord. The dragon lifted his head a little.

“And that would really be much better for the rest of your hoard,” she continued with fresh inspiration. “Because if you leave cheese too long, it might go bad and spoil the cheeses next to it too!”

A nervous ripple went through the beast’s scaly body, but he clearly was not convinced just yet. “But what sort of a hoard is it if I have to give it away,” he complained.

“Well! Cheese is not just any old hoard! It’s a developing creation! And you will have a hoard that is constantly developing too. Constantly changing, but, if we do this right, never shrinking.”

The dragon looked at her solemnly, wavering with uncertainty. Perhaps she shouldn’t hold it against the poor thing, it must be a difficult concept to wrap his head around.

“And I will tell you what,” she said encouragingly. “If business is good, I can start investing in some really good crumbly cheeses. You can keep those in your cave for five whole years!”

“That is quite a long time for humans, is it not?” he said, sounding a little more cheerful.

“Very long. Especially when it comes to cheese. Cheeses that have been aged that long are very expensive.”

In retrospect, she should perhaps have led with that. Gourmand or not, a dragon was still a dragon after all. A glittering, toothy grin appeared on her recalcitrant business partner’s shout and he moved just enough for her to move past him into the mountain.

“Tell me more about this expensive cheese that crumbles.”

She hid a smirk. “If you help me carry some of the current ones out, it would be my pleasure.”

[atlabeth]

unadulterated loathing (pt 1)

pt 2

pairing: fiyero tigelaar x fem reader

summary: you are forced to partner up with fiyero on a history project. things don’t go as you imagine.

a/n: wicked was really good, i love jonathan bailey, and we're coming up on finals season which means im writing about how stressed i am. also halfway through this i realized reader is lowkey paris geller coded lmao. this got away from me so im splitting it into 2 parts, i had a lot of fun writing it so enjoy! also im high posting this so if there's any editing issues im sorry lol!!

wc: 5.5k

warning(s): reader is stressed to the max constantly. she is kinda mean to fiyero but he's into it so it's okay. mostly fluff

Your fingers were beginning to cramp. 

You should have been used to this by now with Doctor Dillamond. You’d been in his class for a few months now, and you graded essays for him often. He often had a propensity for verbosity, but this lecture had been an especially hefty one in preparation for your midterm projects.

He would be announcing partners before the end of class—much to your dismay, for you worked far better on your own than with others holding you down—and you figured you would want to have as much of a head start as possible. 

Great Oz, how you hoped you would be paired with one of your friends. Coralie and Ezura were your only contenders for top of the class—Elphaba had potential as well, not because of the magic she couldn’t control but because of the brain she very well could—and anyone else would frankly slow you down. Doing a large research paper with someone who didn’t care as much as you did would be a drag you didn’t care to go through. 

Midterms were only the most important thing, for they set the track towards finals and affirmed your skill with your assignments, and your first midterm was potentially the most important thing for, when completed successfully, set you on the correct track altogether. 

You tried not to think about it too much (though you failed almost immediately), for you were sure Doctor Dillamond would honor all the work you’d done for him by putting you with a suitable partner. 

“I see some of you are getting restless, so I will cut class short today.” Your eyes snapped up from your paper to see the professor smiling, and you could hear sighs of relief around the room. “I’m sure you’re all eager to know your partners for the midterm paper.” 

The sighs of relief turned to groans, and you had to agree. Assigned partners should have been considered archaic at this point in time. 

Doctor Dillamond trotted back to the projector and, with a bit of difficulty, replaced the image with a piece of paper. Everybody in the class was paired off in groups of two—you immediately started searching for your name, squinting slightly to see despite your spot in the front, and the furrow between your brows deepened when you realized you couldn’t find it. 

You searched instead for your hopeful options. Coralie was with Mayara, Ezura was with Nicholas, Elphaba was with Galinda—of course. You let out a slight huff of annoyance, not just at your disappointment but at the continued lack of your name. 

Perhaps he’d merely forgotten. You didn’t know how Dillamond could have forgotten you, seeing as you were only his best student and literal TA, but things happened. Your anxieties only grew as you heard the beginnings of whispers throughout the room as your classmates saw their pairings, either excited or dismal. 

“Class is dismissed,” Doctor Dillamond said. The room began bustling as students gathered their things, already talking with their friends or searching out their project partner—you heard Galinda squeal and saw her grab Elphaba’s hands out of your peripherals. You could only worry your lip between your teeth as you swept everything in your bag, hardly waiting a second before rushing up to Dillamond’s desk. 

“You didn’t call my name, professor,” you said, managing a smile as you tried to act like it wasn’t killing you. How could he have not called your name? Was there something wrong? Great Oz— had you been somehow moved out of the class? Was your work not exemplary enough? Your assistance not assisting enough? “I don’t have a partner.” 

His mouth opened, but you only found yourself continuing, the words practically tumbling out of you.  

“Of course, if you intended for me to be on my own then I am perfectly alright with that!” Your smile widened as your fingertips dangled over his desk. “I— I prefer it, in fact, so if that is it then there is really no issue at all—”

“Mr. Tigelaar!” he interrupted, and your head turned on instinct to see the eponymous boy arm in arm with Galinda (who was arm in arm with Elphaba) just in front of the door. “I hope you are not about to leave.”

Fiyero flashed a look at his companions before offering one of those easy smiles he seemed to always have up his sleeve. “You dismissed the class. I believe I am part of your class, am I not?”

“You are,” he said, “but you were not assigned a partner. Surely you wouldn’t be trying to get out of the project.”

Your free hand clenched as the threads started to connect. Doctor Dillamond wouldn’t do this to you. Would he?

That easy smile remained on his lips as he turned to Galinda and whispered something in her ear. She giggled and pecked him on the cheek before she walked out, pulling Elphaba behind her, and Fiyero sauntered over. 

“Of course I’m not trying to get out of it,” he said. “Whyever would you think so?”

“Your attempt at a quick exit before you could be assigned a partner,” the professor said. “But it is no matter, for your partner is right here.”

You blinked. He would do this to you.

Why would he do this to you?

“Well, pleasure to meet you.” He held out his hand. “Fiyero Tigelaar.”

You ignored him, for you couldn’t look away from Doctor Dillamond. Would it be mad for you to strangle a Goat?

“Professor,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, “why?”

“Mr. Tigelaar’s grades in my class have not been satisfactory, as I’m sure he is aware.” Dillamond moved away from his desk, prodding the chalkboard with his head to move it out of the way. “I care about all my students, even if they seem not to care for my course. I believe a partnership for the two of you would be beneficial.”

Your jaw clenched. “So you’re forcing me to tutor him because he hasn’t got a brain.”

Fiyero chuckled. “Ouch.”

“Not tutoring, just working on your midterm together,” he said. “And if you end up teaching him a few things along the way, then we would all be better off, wouldn’t we?” 

“Professor, with all due respect, this is ridiculous!” you exclaimed. “Why should I have to risk my grade, my midterm, my standing altogether at Shiz just to help him?” 

“Should you perform the way that is typical of you, there should be no issues.” Doctor Dillamond gave you that professorly look and your teeth grinded against each other. How dare he try to take the moral high ground. “Now, the two of you better hurry off. You haven’t got forever to work on this project.” 

“Professor,” you whispered, determined to not let up, “why are you punishing me like this?”

“I’m not punishing you, my dear.”

“Fiyero couldn’t care less about any of this,” you insisted. “I’m going to fail my midterm and it will be all his fault!”

“If you believe he can make you fail, then you haven’t got as much faith in yourself as I believed.” Doctor Dillamond looked at you. “Trust me—and yourself—that this will all work out.”

You stared back—it was rather difficult to have a staring contest with a Goat. “I don’t suppose I can change your mind on this?”

“You’d be correct.”

You huffed and glanced away. “Fine. But expect those test scores to take an extra day.”

He let out a bleaty sort of laugh while you walked away. You considered it a credit to yourself that you held back the childish tantrum you wanted to throw as you moved back over to your desk to gather the rest of your things. You shoved your books into your bag with a bit more anger than necessary, and you heard footsteps behind you. You glanced over to see Fiyero sidled up beside you, leaning against the desk next to yours. 

“Surely you won’t be this irritated at me the entirety of our project.” He still had that unbothered smile on his lips, and it made you want to hit him. “It might make this a much more miserable partnership.”

You let out a mirthless laugh as you shouldered your bag. “Don’t act like this pains you. You’re just going to ride my coattails the entire time.” 

“You know, I hadn’t even thought of that,” Fiyero mused. “But now that you bring it up, I just may have to.” 

“For the love of Oz,” you muttered to yourself before mustering the strength to look up at him. “I have a myriad of things I need to do today. Why don’t you go bother your girlfriend for the rest of the day, and then you can meet me at the library first thing tomorrow morning so we can discuss all of this.” 

He shrugged. “Sounds alright to me.” 

“Good,” you said. “Because I meant every word I said back there. I will not have you ruining all my progress thus far because of your absolute refusal to think.” 

“It looks as if you could take a page out of my book,” Fiyero said. “You seem awfully stressed.” 

Your lips tightened into a mirthless smile. “I’m stressed because of you, Fiyero, and we have hardly even interacted. I dread to think of my mental state after a week of working together. Now, good day. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

You swept past him and walked out of Doctor Dillamond’s classroom. You felt his eyes on you until you turned the corner, and you had to resist the urge to look back. 

Oh, how you loathed group projects. 

-

The rest of your day was far more demanderating than it should have been, and you blamed Fiyero for it. You swore the clock went by half as quick and your lectures twice as long—it didn’t help that you were so distracted in chemistry that you nearly burned your eyebrows off from a potion gone wrong. 

You’d practically thrown yourself onto your bed when you got back to your dorm, and you didn’t get up until your roommate got back and demanded to know what had gotten into you. She didn’t exactly give you the response you wanted. 

“The prince is your partner?” Coralie sighed dreamily. “Oh, you are so lucky.” 

“Lucky is not the way I’d put it,” you mumbled, words muffled by the sheets. You finally tore yourself up off your bed and picked your nightgown up from atop your dresser. You went behind your folding sheet and began to change. “And I didn’t know you had eyes for Fiyero.” 

“I hardly have eyes for him,” she said wryly. “I just have eyes—anyone can see that he’s attractive.” 

“It doesn’t matter how attractive he is if he makes me fail this midterm,” you said. You straightened your nightgown then folded your school uniform while you walked back into the open, passing a glance at your roommate as you placed it on your desk. You then settled on your bed with a huff. “I just don’t understand why Doctor Dillamond is punishing me like this. It makes me reconsider all those late nights spent grading papers for him.” 

Coralie shrugged. “You’re one of his best students, Fiyero is probably one of his worst. I bet Doctor Dillamond figured you would be happy to take him on, what with how happily you take on everything else he throws at you.” 

You grumbled as you laid back against your pillows. “I just don’t know if I can take him on. Fiyero seems to care more about flirting with every student at this school than any actual material.” 

She gave you a mischievous smile. “Maybe he’ll turn the full force of his affections on you in return for your studiousness. Oh, how that would be a sight to see.” 

“Don’t even put that idea into the air, Cora,” you scoffed. “Besides, he’s clearly involved with Galinda. Even if I was interested, which I’m not—” you emphasized with a pointed look at her— “that isn’t something I want to touch.” 

“Well, you can’t deny that he’s dreamy,” she said. “He just showed up at Shiz and people started falling left and right. It’s more impressive that you haven’t.” 

“Because I’m here for one reason,” you said. “His whole… thing doesn’t fit into any of it.” 

“I know,” Coralie mused as she fell back onto her pillows. “You’ve told me your whole plan ten times over. I just think you should also try to enjoy your life instead of bulldozing your way through it.” 

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “I’m enjoying my life just fine, thank you.” 

Interestingly enough, Fiyero was going through something similar a myriad of rooms away. 

He laid on Galinda’s bed, his head in her lap as she trailed her fingers through his hair. She’d been going on about something for the last couple of minutes, but he hadn’t really been able to focus on any of it. 

“Dearest, did you not hear what I said?” 

Fiyero blinked at the sound of Galinda’s voice. He hadn’t indeed. 

“I’m sorry, beloved.” He absentmindedly reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze once he found it. “I was thinking.” 

Elphaba laughed from across the room. She sat on her bed with a book in her lap. “That’s a first for you.” 

“It is,” Galinda said, though with much more concern laced in her voice. Her hand moved from his hair to his forehead. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Just fine,” he assured. “What was it you were saying?” 

“Just lamenting on how awful it is that we’ve been separated for this project,” she sighed. “I’m sure I could persuade Doctor Dillamond to put us in a group of three.”

“You can’t even get him to pronounce your name correctly,” Elphaba said wryly. “How could you get him to do this?” 

“Well,” Galinda huffed, “maybe you could do it. He appears to like you more than me.” 

“I’m sure that really hurts,” she said. 

Galinda placed her hand on her chest. “It does!” 

“It’s fine,” Fiyero interrupted. “I’m alright with my partner. She’s nice.” 

“Nice?” Elphaba scoffed. “I heard her lecturing you the whole time we were out in the hallway.” 

“She’s passionate,” he decided. “Besides, I don’t really care. I haven’t thought about it since she left.” 

That was a complete lie. In truth, Fiyero hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you since you left. Very strange for someone who preferred to go through life with less thinking and more doing. 

He honestly didn’t know why his mind was so occupied with you. 

He’d always been aware of you, obviously—all your professors adored you, your name was always brought up when talking about top of the class, and he was sure you held the record for most time spent in the library at once—but he didn’t know anything about you other than your academic record. And for someone with such strong opinions, especially about him, Fiyero found himself with the strange need to know more. 

He would be at the library tomorrow. Maybe not on time, but certainly there. 

Fiyero would make this the beginning of a beautiful partnership, one way or another.

-

True to your word, you were in the library bright and early after a quick stop at the dining hall. You went through the effort of gathering everything you thought you would need—a myriad of textbooks and encyclopedias, your well-weathered notebook and another one for Fiyero because you doubted he had one, and enough writing material for the two of you.

You sighed. You had to do so much just to even the ground between your groups and the others. Coralie was always so prepared whenever you worked together. 

Fiyero, to your surprise, was only ten minutes late. You already had your head buried in a book when he said your name and scared you witless. 

Your eyes widened as they darted up to look at him, and he chuckled. 

“Sorry. You were in the zone.”

“I just wasn’t expecting you,” you said. “You’re late.”

“Hardly.” Fiyero took the seat across from you, his eyes sweeping over everything you had on the table. “You’ve got quite a collection.”

“I doubt you know your way around the library,” you said. 

“I know my way around a lot of things.” 

You leveled your gaze at him. Leave it to Fiyero to make everything an innuendo. “And is a library one of them?”

“I’m sure I could make it one.”

“If you bothered to think at all.”

“Darling, you know I’d never,” he said with a smile. “Now, what are we doing here?”

“Do you really not know what our midterm is?” you marveled. 

“I have more important things to worry about,” he said. 

You scoffed and shook your head. Ridiculous— it was ridiculous that you had to put up with this. Maybe Doctor Dillamond really did hate you.

“Our assignment is an extensively researched ten page paper on any great Ozian,” you said. “Anyone who has contributed to our society in a relevant way and made our lives better for it.”

“A ten page paper?” Fiyero frowned. “That seems a bit much.”

“Between the two of us, it’s just five pages each, and we’ve got two weeks to get it done,” you said. “I’ve written five pages in a few hours of inspiration.”

“Your life truly sounds thrilling,” Fiyero said. “We could do the Wizard.”

“Half the class is going to do the wizard,” you scoffed. 

“Because he’s a great man,” he said. “There’s no shame in it.”

“There is absolutely shame in copying half the class,” you said as you pushed over a sheet of paper to him. “Now, I’ve already got a list going. Look it over; see if there’s anyone you like or anyone worthwhile you want to add.”

You looked back down at your encyclopedia, opened to your personal favorite choice, and continued scribbling down basic notes. You glanced up a few moments later to see Fiyero’s gaze hadn’t wavered from you. 

You frowned. “Is there a problem?”

“You’re awfully prepared,” he said instead. 

“I figured you wouldn’t be,” you responded.

Fiyero’s lips quirked in a smile. “Then I believe that means you deserve to choose our subject.”

Your frown deepened. “Really?”

“Are you always this suspicious of everyone?”

“Just you.”

“Then consider this an olive branch,” he said. He slid the paper back over. “Who’s your top choice?”

“…Ilara Mayfair,” you finally said as you pointed at her on the top of your list. “She was a historical linguist, responsible for half of what we know about Ozian languages and how they connect and differ. She’s…” you cleared your throat and shrugged, trying to make it sound like it wasn’t a big deal, “she’s kind of my hero.”

“Your hero?” Fiyero’s eyebrows rose. “Is that what you want to do?” 

“…It’s always been my dream,” you admitted. “I grew up helping around my parents’ bookstore and her mark was on nearly everything. I really admire it. I want to make that sort of difference in the world.”

“How noble,” he remarked. What surprised you was how genuine he sounded. “It’s impressive how much of your life you have planned out already. All Galinda knows is that she’s majoring in sorcery—she hasn’t really got anything else worked out.”

“What are you majoring in?” you asked.

“Undecided,” Fiyero said. “I was kicked out of my last school before I could declare, so I figure there’s not really a point in doing it here.”

“Not really a surprise,” you said. 

“Really?”

“On your first day, you snuck off campus with half of Shiz to go dance at Ozdust,” you said. “That’s not exactly a good first impression.” 

“I’d argue the opposite,” he said. Fiyero tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he focused on you for a moment. His gaze made you uncomfortably aware of yourself. “I don’t recall seeing you there.” 

“That’s because I wasn’t there.” You looked back down at your encyclopedia to avoid his eyes. “I had more important things to do.” 

He frowned. “Do you ever take a day off?” 

“Of course,” you said. “There isn’t any class on the weekends.” 

“I mean with this,” he said, gesturing at all the books around you. “It doesn’t seem like you allow yourself a single moment of respite. When you’re not in class, you’re studying. When you’re not studying, you’re doing work. When you’re not doing any of it, you’re probably dreaming of your future assignments.” 

You felt your skin heat. Surely you weren’t that transparent. 

“...I don’t dream of them,” you defended. “Not— not always.” 

He laughed and shook his head. “You’re ridiculous. Do you know that?” 

You frowned. “How am I ridiculous? You’re incapable of taking a single thing seriously.” 

“And you’re incapable of not taking everything seriously,” Fiyero said. “It can’t be good for your health.” 

“I plan to get out of here a year early,” you said, looking back at your books. “I can’t slack off like you do if I want that plan to come to fruition.” 

“Oh, I’ve gotten out of every school I’ve been in a year early,” Fiyero said. “Sometimes two or three— Oz, sometimes I don’t even make it through the first semester.” 

Your eyes snapped back up to him, widened in instinctual panic. “What?” 

He burst out laughing, and it grinded every one of your gears. “Oh, I wish you could see the look on your face! It’s priceless— truly priceless!” 

“You’ve been kicked out of every school you’ve been to and you think it’s a joke?” 

Still laughing, he shrugged. “It is. Nothing bad has happened, and I’m still having the time of my life wherever I go.” 

You just shook your head as you stared at him, eyes still wide. “Are you always like this?”

“Utterly charming?” 

“Entirely insufferable.”

You didn’t understand how he laughed. Everything rolled right off him, like oil off a duck’s back, no matter how many times you insulted him. 

“You know, there are other things to life than your studies,” he said.

“Not while I’m here, there isn’t,” you said. “It’s the whole point of university.” 

“The point of university is to have fun,” he said. “You’ve seen how this place has perked up since I’ve gotten here, haven’t you?” 

“Not really, no,” you said. “I’ve been more focused on other things.” 

“Like?” 

“Like my studies.” 

“It’s like I’m talking to a broken record,” he marveled. “Have you ever had fun in your life?” His eyes widened comically. “Do you even know what the concept of fun is?” 

“Ha ha,” you said dryly. 

He tilted his head. “Do you?” 

You frowned. “Of course I do.” 

“Okay, then.” Fiyero leaned back in his chair. “Tell me about yourself.”

Your frown deepened. “We aren’t doing a research paper on me.”

“We’re working together on this,” he said. “Is it a crime to want to know my partner?”

A muscle worked in your jaw as you stared at him. He stared back, entirely unaffected. 

“If I humor you, will you actually work with me through this?”

Fiyero held up his hand. “Prince’s honor.”

Finally, you broke. You folded your arms with a short sigh then glanced away. “Fine. I’m from a tiny village in Gillikin that you’ve probably never heard of. I’m here on scholarship with the plan to graduate, become a historian, and make a name for myself.” You looked back at him. “Is that good enough for you?”

“It’s excellent,” Fiyero said with a smile. “Dare I say I’ve learned more about you in one short day than I have in the entirety of my time at Shiz?”

You gave him a fake smile as you tapped your book. “Open your textbook. We have a lot to catch up on.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You’re not going to ask about me?”

“I mean this with all due respect—what could there possibly be to know about you?” You raised an eyebrow as you counted off on your fingers. “You’re from the Vinkus, you’re a prince, and you’ve never read a book a day in your life.” 

“Oh, that’s not true,” he chastised. “I’ve read at least one—I just choose not to.” 

“Well, how about we make that two?” You reached across the table and opened his book for him. “Unless that prince’s honor isn’t worth a thing.” 

“Oh, it’s worth everything,” Fiyero said. 

You raised your eyebrows expectantly. “Then prove it.” 

“Very well,” he nodded. “I believe I can be serious for the next… fifteen minutes.” 

“You won’t even get through a chapter,” you said. “Thirty.” 

Fiyero frowned. “You set awfully high expectations.” 

“Why do you think Doctor Dillamond forced me to help you?” you asked. 

“Because you’re oh so nice and charitable?”

That got a genuine laugh out of you. If you’d been looking closer, you would have seen Fiyero’s smile grow, his eyes soften. 

“Of course. Now, go to the glossary, find Ilara, and start writing. I know practically everything about her already, so you need to catch up.”

“I don’t have—”

You held out your extra notebook and fountain pen and cocked your head. “Don’t have what?”

Fiyero chuckled as he took them from you. “You’re prepared for everything, aren’t you?”

“Always,” you said with a satisfied smile. “Now get reading, my prince.”

He pressed his hand to his chest and bowed his head. “At once, my lady.”

-

You looked at the clock on the wall. Fiyero should have been here by now. 

Granted, he was ten minutes late to your first meeting, but that was before he’d changed your expectations ever so slightly. Almost an hour had passed, and there was still no sign. 

Of course, it wasn’t as if it hindered your progress. You kind of always expected him to fall short—if he showed at all, that was a credit to him—so you already had half the outline done. But a small part of you that you’d never admit to might have actually been looking forward to his presence. 

You enjoyed the bout of verbal sparring he engaged you in. A lot of your classmates thought you were mean, and it never bothered you. Like you told Fiyero, you were here for one reason and one only, and the amount of people that liked you at university didn’t influence that at all. Your professors liked you and your grades were perfect—that was all. 

But you couldn’t lie and say it wasn’t… nice. For Fiyero to take everything you said in stride, with a smile and a retort of equal measure.

It was nice. But that was all. 

You were jarred out of your thoughts by someone calling your name. You looked up to see Fiyero sauntering over, bearing his usual smile and not much else.

“This is a library,” you said once he got closer. “You aren’t supposed to shout.”

He took the seat across from you. “I’d hardly call that shouting.”

“You aren’t meant to be loud,” you decided. “Why are you so late?”

Fiyero shrugged. “I lost track of time?”

“You know, we are partners,” you emphasized your last word, “so it would be helpful if you could try to put in the same amount of effort as me.”

“That seems impossible.” He gestured at your notebook with his head, your current page already nearly full. “You’ve got me beat on nearly everything.”

“It’s not that difficult,” you intoned. “I mean, just do some research outside of class.”

He stared at you expectantly, and you rolled your eyes. “I don’t know what I expect with you, honestly.”

“Exactly what you see, darling. Now,” Fiyero's gaze drifted over to the window, then looked back at you as he stood up, “what do you say we put a hold on things and enjoy this beautiful day?” 

Your brows furrowed. “What, you mean do our research outside?” 

“Is your work truly all you think about?” he asked in exasperation. “I mean leave the books and your notes and your stress here, and take a stroll around campus.” 

“I’ve had my entire life planned out since I was ten years old,” you said. “Of course it is. I am not going to have some— some—”

“Some what?” Fiyero interrupted. He still looked remarkably unaffected by your outburst, that sideways smile of his infuriatingly charming. 

“Some ridiculous, pompous, self-absorbed, lazy Winkie prince ruin it!” you exclaimed. 

“Lazy,” he mused. “That’s a new one.” 

“Of course you’re lazy! Why would we take a break when we have a project to do?” 

Fiyero looked at you like you were crazy— no, like he was worried about you. He shook his head. “You really do have a one track mind.” 

“When we’re in midterm season, yes, I d— what are you doing?”

Fiyero had started stacking all of the books you had on the table away from you, then he grabbed your notebook and your pen out of your hand.

“You need a break,” he said. 

“I don’t need a break, and give that back—”

You reached for your materials but only just grazed his hand before he pulled them back and set them on top of the pile. “When was the last time you saw the sun?” 

You scoffed. “I see the sun all the time.” 

“Not from a window in the library or your dorm.” 

You bit your tongue. Fiyero smiled and held out his hand. 

“You need a break.” 

You stared at his hand. He gave you a cloying look. 

“It’s not a good sign that you’re this against self-care,” he said wryly. 

You sighed and reluctantly placed your hand in his. “Fine.”

Fiyero grinned and he pulled you close. You yelped at the unexpected speed and you tumbled into his chest. Fiyero’s hand dropped to your waist, and for a moment all you could do was stare at him, wide eyed. 

“Shall we?” he murmured. 

You jolted away from him once you came back into yourself, your skin burning where he’d touched you. 

“We shall,” you said, a bit too forcefully as you started walking a bit too fast. 

Fiyero chuckled. He matched your pace easily, soon coming up beside you. “You’re already that excited?”

“Oh, shut up,” you bit out. “You’ve already gotten what you want. No need for more.”

He feigned naivety. “What would I possibly be doing?”

You shook your head with a huff. “I’m not entertaining that with a response.”

Fiyero simply hummed. You glanced over at him, still staying even with you, and then you let out another huff as you stopped. He didn’t miss a beat, pausing at the same time as you, then met your flustered expression with a smile. 

“Yes?”

“You’re the one that wanted to do this,” you said, gesturing in front of you with a hand. “So lead the way.”

“Gladly,” he said. “I’m very good at taking the lead.”

Fiyero started walking and, though you had half a mind to take the opportunity and dart back to the library, you found yourself following him. 

Cora’s words spun around your head as you and Fiyero walked together, about him turning the full force of his flirting on you in return for you being such a stickler for your midterm. 

That was the embarrassing thing; you didn’t even think this was half of it, and he already had you blushing—and for what? It was as if you’d never even talked to a boy before. 

You’d had plenty of experience back home. Village boys coming into your parents’ store to flirt at you, leaving notes in your desk in class, offering to walk you home at night—plenty of experience. 

It didn’t matter that you denied them all and never went anywhere because you had a one track mind even then, and that Fiyero had done what no one else had and gotten you take a break simply because he asked nicely—

You sucked in a sharp breath as Fiyero’s arm suddenly pressed against your chest, stopping you in place. Your head snapped up to look at him, mouth already open with questions loaded, but he gestured with his head before you could ask any of them. 

You’d nearly barreled right down the stairs from being lost in your head, without care nor consideration for actually taking the steps. 

“Mind the gap, darling,” he said. “Wouldn’t want you damaging that brain of yours.”

“…Thank you,” you said once you’d regained the ability to speak words again. “One of us ought to have one.”

Fiyero laughed as he took his arm away. “Certainly.” He used it to gesture down the stairs. “Ladies first—unless you’re unsure of your ability to conquer them.”

“I’ll be just fine, Fiyero.” You started the descent, Fiyero right behind you, and you let out another short sigh. 

There had to be something wrong with you. That was the only explanation for why you were acting this way.

Maybe you really did need to start getting more sleep. 

[gloomwitchwrites]

thinking about the 141 when you get nipple piercings and they can’t touch your nipples for four months

For clarity, I do not have my nipples pierced. Don't ever plan on it, but we can imagine that we did and what the guys think. I did do a little research, and I saw a wide variety of healing times, so instead of four months, I kept any mention of the healing process vague. The concept is the same though. I had a lot of fun with this one y'all. Enjoy it. :)

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Presented in four double drabbles.

Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, brief dirty talk, suggestive themes, swearing, fade to black

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

"You're not putting a shirt on."

“What are you talking about?”

“We’re at home. And I want to see them.”

“I’m putting a shirt on,”

John is quick, snatching the shirt out of your grasp. You start to protest, but John tosses it onto the highest shelf in the closet.

“You’re childish.” You gesture at the rest of the shirts on hangers. “And I have other shirts!”

John shrugs. “I’ll hide them all.”

"I fucking swear, John."

"Or tear them all up."

You smack his chest but John only chuckles. He’s having a go at you. A laugh.

"If I can't touch them, then I bloody well better be able to see them."

"You're ridiculous."

John carefully caresses a nearby path of skin near the piercing. "You got them for me," he purrs. "And I want to see them on display at all times." His hand settles on your waist, drawing you in. He leans in, lips lightly pressed to your ear. “Especially when my head is between your legs.”

Heat rapidly warms your neck, heading for your cheeks. John notices your sudden flustered demeanor.

“That sound good to you, love?”

You nod, and John guides you to the bed.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

"I can't touch them?" asks Kyle, sounding disappointed.

"Nope."

"Not at all?”

“Eventually. But not right now.”

Kyle frowns at your chest, his gaze on the shiny metal. "Do they hurt?"

You wince slightly. "Mostly sore. The pain killers help."

Kyle nods and then glances up at your face. "How do you care for them?"

You rattle off a list of things and then hand him the paper the piercer gave you. Kyle takes it, looking it over as you go over everything, repeating it verbatim.

The small frown on his face turns into an upward smirk. "I can help with this,” he says, voice almost sultry.

"You can," you say slowly, taking the paper and placing it on the counter.

"So I can touch them. If I help.”

"Not in the way you're thinking, Kyle," you scold, knowing exactly where his mind is drifting off to.

"But I still get to touch them?"

"Only to help me,” you correct. “Not for any other reason.”

He sighs, voice a little breathy as he speaks to himself. “I can wait to suck on those gorgeous nipples.”

“Kyle Garrick! I heard that!”

He snags the paper off the counter, hiding his grin.

John "Soap" MacTavish

“You’re having a laugh.”

“Am I?”

"I can't touch them?"

"Nope."

"Not even a little bit?"

"No, Johnny. Not even a little bit."

Johnny lays on his side facing you with one elbow propped under him. He rests his head in his hand. Johnny’s gaze is locked on to your bare chest and the new metal there. The piercings are only a few days old, and they’re fucking sore.

"They're sensitive right now," you continue, wincing slightly when you move, adjusting the way you recline on the bed.

"Aye. I see," he murmurs, leaning closer, gaze narrowing as he focuses on your new piercings. The middle of his brow creases as if he's intensely considering something.

"What is it?" you ask. "You look very serious."

Johnny's gaze doesn't leave your chest. "I'm thinking about all the ways I'm going to play with those beauties."

Heat rushes to your face. “Be fucking for real right now.”

His mouth morphs into a sly smile. Johnny’s gaze shifts from your chest to your face. “Need a distraction?”

“What are you on about?”

Johnny shifts, forcing your legs open as he slots between them. “A distraction,” he purrs. “From your soreness. And my thoughts.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon stands behind you, watching you in the bathroom mirror from over your shoulder.

"Do you need help?" he asks, gaze unmoving.

"I'm fine, Simon."

He is quiet a moment before he speaks again. "I can’t touch them?"

"Not for a month. Possibly more. Healing is different for everyone."

You hear his annoyed grunt but his gaze doesn't leave you. It remains firmly planted on your newly pierced nipples.

"How sensitive are you?" he asks, taking a tiny step closer. Simon’s hand rests on your waist as you gently clean around the piercing.

"I’m sore. Nothing terrible."

Simon's head dips, lips pressing to your neck as his arms drape around you. "I can't touch them." It’s not a question, more like he’s speaking to himself.

"Nope,” you murmur.

Simon’s sigh has a hint of a growl in it. "Just means I'll have to give extra attention to everything else." His hands descend, and you bite back a groan as he touches you.

Simon's lips press to your ear. "I'll give you attention everywhere.” One hand comes up to trace a line near the piercing. “Except here.” His hand drops away, returns to between your legs. “You’ll be begging for me.”

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