#i wanna have my own secret alien language with someone :((( | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

katarzyna- · 1 year ago

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This? This ruined me. Because you made me realise how true this statement is.

I wanna preface this by saying that under I'm in no circumstances a JKR supporter (for obvious reasons) and I'm also NOT trying to imply that Jenkins is homophobic and transphobic (so please don't send me death threats, read this or don't, block me on sight, idc, even argue with me, but please be respectful). I just know/remember a lot from my younger days.

I'm not saying that these characters have the same arc/story, but there is a shocking amount of resemblence.

Both Lupin and Izzy are shown as outcasts of their already alienated society.

You could argue that pirates and wizards are completely different, but let's think about this. While I know that JKR didn't plan on it, she created a close-knit community with their own traditions, language and wardrobe that lived in secret, hiding from the rest of "normal" society. This image just screams queer. Her portrayal of werewolves was harmful and god-awful, with Lupin being "one of the good ones" trying to conform to social norms and living his whole life in hiding (we will come back to this later on).

While Izzy is respected by others (especially in s2, with Steak Knife, Bill and Ricky, who seems like a fanboy at first, and Jackie since season one, and even the Navy), he does not fit on the s1 Revenge. He is not used to living so openly, so unapologetically as the rest of the crew. He is not used to showing his emotions. Season 2 gives him the opportunity to try that way of life for like five minutes, before he dies. And that's the hurtful part, he only just found his new family, he got accepted into it for a moment, before everything is forcibly taken from him. In these five minutes, he got protective of them, fought for them and took the blame upon himself multiple times, just to save them. And what is more, they defend him back. They risk their lives covering up the fact that he lives, hiding him from a psychotic-ex their Captain. They save his life by performing surgery even when he begs them to just end it all. They bond while making him a prothestic leg, a gift that touches Izzy so deeply, that he stops his self-destructive path and embraces his place in the crew (look at ep5 and 6, he is thriving, he jokes around, trains Stede, offers advice and the drag scene? Truly iconic. He finally allows himself a moment of softness after a lifetime of hardship).

2. Disability/ overall health

While Lupin being physically disabled is mostly fanon, his health is in shambles even in canon. The transformations take a lot of his organism, he is in his 30s during the series, but is described as looking much older, always on the brink of exhaustion. Fans found him relatable, made him a symbol, which JKR kills off without much thought.

While I myself am not disabled, I can recognise that the treatment of Izzy is hurtful. His prothestic is a part of him and using it as a grave marker is just so disrespectful and many fans already brought up this topic. Killing off the visably disbled character feels like a big "fuck you" to those who recognised a part of themselves in Izzy and took joy in his acceptance journey. Before you come to me about him not being the only disabled character, he is the only one with an arc connected to the fact. Ed convieniently forgets about his knee this season. It's like it never bothered him at all. The brace is long forgotten, he runs freely. So, great writing and consistency guys! Good job!

And to the "fans" who say he "deserved it": I'm begging you to just use your brain and think for five seconds. First of all, disability is not a punishment, it cannot be someone's fault. Please rethink your words. And in this particular instance, do you think taking his toes and eventually the leg were appropriate/proportional of his crime of... being mean to Ed in season one? Because "Ed is so babygirl, he cannot do anything wrong" he literally commited a war crime. Check your morals.

3. "Bury your gays" and fan reception

"But OP, this isn't bury you gays, everyone is queer in OFMD!" okay yes, but does anybody else have such a typically queer arc? The whole season is centered about acceptance and belonging. Izzy finds himself experimenting and finally enjoying life. He rids himself of toxic masculinity. He does drag for god's sake. He mixes in with the crew, sings a beautiful love song abot loving a man! (please read the translation from French, not only the English lyrics, bc you loose a whole layer of meaning). He admits his feelings to Ed! (tbh I didn't expect that, especially such early on in the season, but we all know what came later). He even admits the fact to Stede, so it's not like he's hiding the fact anymore.

He is the elder queer, who fought tooth and nail to be where he was. He was disabled. His love was unrequited and he still stayed with Ed for years. He finally escaped an abusive relationship. He was a symbol to many of us. And they took him away, when "he was no longer needed". They made his death a plot device and then didn't even mourn him. His death didn't serve anything except shock value. It didn't motivate the characters to revenge, it didn't help Ed with abandoning the Blackbeard persona, because he has already done that in the previous episode (with Izzy's help/blessing, no less).

And the whole deathbed confession was an apology to his abuser? Wow, what a way to victim blame, Great message, really. Nobody tries to save him, despite the fact that the crew has already done it this season. What are we supposed to think, that once was enough? That it was too much of a burden? Fuck this. Fuck making suicidal characters die. Great message to the fans. You can be happy only when you're young and healthy and a socially acceptable version of queer. Fuck it.

And the fact that they tried to last-minute change his relationship with Ed to a mentorship? Why? There is almost no textual evidence to prove it, at this point it looks like Jenkins realizing he fucked up and trying to backpedal after the backlash.

Lupin on the other hand could very much be a poster child for the bury your gays trope. After JKR found out that people shipped him with Sirius, she kills both of them off. While Sirius's death serves some kind of a narrative purpose, making Harry change, Lupin's is just... there. He dies for the shock value, leaving behind a child which he only has to emphasize that he is straight, duh. The fact that his (also dead) wife was also thought to be queer by fans must be a coincidence, right?

I know it's all a bit chaotic, but I really expected more from a show that promised to be kind and a safe space. I'm tired of having to think up my own endings, of pretending that queer charcters are treated fairly. I really believed them and I'm not making this mistake again.

I'm used to queer-baiting in shows, I'm used to my faves dying, I just never expected it here. I thought we were better than this in 2023, but I got proven wrong.

An open letter to David Jenkins

Some fans believe that we should not vent our anger and frustration to show creators. I don’t believe that. The thing about being a professional is that receiving criticism is part of your job—especially if you have done a terrible job.

OFMD went from groundbreaking to disappointing overnight.

There was a momentum to create a queer media that is smart, fun, sexy, and most importantly, respectful. In the way they are writing these queer characters. Especially older and disabled queer characters, a reflection of a generation of marginalised communities that have gone through so much. To give audience a glimpse of hope in their escapism.

But sir, you choose to Remus Lupin him instead.

This is not just about killing off a character. Hell, I might be willing to accept it. After all, I have read and even written fics with MCD in it—involving my favourite character.

But I want you to know that this is a special case. It is not just another popular character being killed off to drive plots.

I have issue with how you kill off a queer character that represents many marginalised communities in his arc.

Izzy is an abuse survivor who becomes disabled as a result of it. Izzy is a queer elder. Izzy is suicidal but manages to overcome it with the healing power of love and community.

Having him killed off just like that is a huge slap for fans who have gone through what he has gone through. Turns out, even in fiction, in our escapism, there is no joy. Only despair.

Also. Father figure? Where does that come from? Ed has never been shown to have any level of respect for Izzy. So let me ask you again. Where does “father figure” come from?

You have an opportunity to make a difference with OFMD; to be remembered in history for the right reasons. Yet somehow you choose not too. You choose to turn this into cheap, sensationalist entertainment where death and torture are thrown around for shock value.

It is like you have no idea how much power you have by being a professional storyteller.

Let me break it down to you. For you as a writer, perhaps killing off Izzy is nothing but an artistic choice. A plot point to figure out. But for audiences in marginalised groups, stories are mirrors. They see themselves in stories. That is how stories give them hope. This is why OFMD has never been “just a pirate story”. Perhaps this is hard to understand if you have never been part of an underrepresented community in the mainstream media, but this is how many are feeling about your work now. Your legacy.

OFMD has truly become an overnight failure. I don’t know how this happened. I would like to blame budget cuts, but your Vanity Fair interview makes me realise this is all deliberate choice.

So, what is next for us Canyonites?

If anything, this convinced me that queer and disabled people should write. And continue to write.

We can no longer trust major media to speak for us. We definitely can never trust David Jenkins again. Any form of progressiveness that he showed earlier was just coincidence, apparently. Even worse, it was fake.

As my friend Sam beautifully puts it, Izzy belongs to us now. We reclaim that character and give him all the happy endings he deserves in our fic, our art. We transform the works. We write about queer, disabled, suicidal characters the way the deserve to be written. If being a published writer is the path you choose, make sure you make wiser decisions than David Jenkins.

Thank you, sir. It was good while it lasts.

But this is a terrible job that you’re doing.

#jenkins critical #ofmd critical #izzy hands #im just frustrated #sorry for the rambling

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noteguk · 4 years ago

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any way you want it | kth | m

— summary; in which your best friend, Taehyung, finds out about your unsatisfying sexual experiences and decides to put an end to that track record himself.

— contents and warnings; smut, childhood best friends, Taehyung x reader, bigdick!tae, breast play, oral (f receiving), dry grinding, dirty talk, tae has a praise kink, unprotected sex (be responsible!!), rough sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, Taehyung takes things personally but he has good intentions, this is what happens when mutual thirst gets suppressed for years of friendship

— words; 6.6k

— author’s note; i have no idea why but this fic was so fucking hard to put down into words??? I felt mentally constipated the entire time but it’s finally here

Taehyung wasn’t the slightest bit surprised when you called him at almost two in the morning, complaining about your newest nightmarish date and practically begging to come over. Like the good friend that he was, he made sure to tell you that you would be more than welcome to join him in his newest documentary marathon about aliens, and wondered if you could bring him some takeout on your way over there. Like the bad friend that you were, you said no.

To be fair, the nearest takeout place was across the city from his apartment (about thirty minutes away and in a bad neighborhood), and you were already having a horrible night as it was. Besides, you refused to take part in Taehyung’s search for a high blood pressure and cholesterol levels, arguing that it wasn’t the right time to stuff his face full of hypercaloric noodles.

But you did pity him enough to comply with his second request: a big pot of vanilla ice cream, which you were sure you’d end up consuming too. You were in a crisis.

As if to prove that the gods above were laughing at you, during the walk of shame to Taehyung’s apartment, it had started to rain (because of course it did), and your umbrella was only able to save you from the shoulders up before it crumbled and flew away from your gasp, rolling on the asphalt like a ball of dirt in a Wild West movie. By the time that you dragged yourself to his front door, you were completely soaked (and not in the way you had planned for that night to end), and about to break down crying.

Taehyung, like the angel that he was, helped you with your heavy coat and talked you into taking a warm shower before you got sick. He took the supermarket bag from you (where the ice cream had probably already melted) and walked you to this bathroom, excusing himself so he could grab you some dry clothes — and you only saw the ones he had picked when you got out of the shower.

With a silly smile dancing on your lips, you fumbled with the black booty shorts that Taehyung had jokingly gifted you that past Christmas — one that read “daddy’s juicy butt” in big, bold, neon pink letters over your ass — and then decided that your dignity was already dead by that point, so another kick wouldn’t hurt. Taehyung had also given you one of his favorite band shirts, which he only revealed during desperate times.

Your heart melted with the thought of your best friend trying to comfort you, and pulled the fabric close to your face so you could take a deep inhale, drowning in his scent. It smelled of that stupid cologne that Taehyung had used ever since he hit puberty, and a bit of fabric softener.

The two of you had an extremely close friendship, to the point that it got kind of strange at times. Ever since childhood, it was joked that you and Taehyung had been long lost soulmates — doing everything together, from going to school to laughing at the same exact jokes during movie marathons, often at the same moment and for the same amount of time. Before puberty hit (and the hormonal rage took over your first teenage years) you couldn’t remember disagreeing with him even once. You two had always been in sync.

But the uncomfortably close part only hit after you two went to college, and your anxiety for being a virgin in a sea of starving sharks got the best of you. After long conversations, you had managed to convince Taehyung to help you learn a thing or two about the art of naked wrestling.

Apparently it was weird to give your best friend a handjob and a blowjob for the sake of education. Go figure.

Regardless, your friendship wasn’t affected by any of that — even if you two had agreed to never mention any of it ever again — and you could always count on Taehyung to catch you when you fell.

Even if it was at two am on a Tuesday, after one of your nightmarish dates.

You threw yourself on the couch next to him, hugging your knees against your chest to form a barrier between you and the divine providence that had taken you to that point. You had half-assedly dried your hair, but pools of wetness had started to build on the back of Taehyung’s shirt.

Instead of accusing you of ruining his favorite piece of clothing, Taehyung reached for the remote and paused his documentary just as the narrator was starting to explain how hieroglyphs were actually part of an alien language. “Just tell me how bad it was,” he said, a mustache of ice cream melting over his top lip.

You took a peek at the bowl of melting vanilla on his center table, and decided that you would probably pass the desert for the night.

You glanced at him sideways, voice coming out monotone. “You sure you want to go down that path?”

Taehyung licked his sweet mustache off and nodded, clearly intrigued. “Yeah, hit me with it. You look like you need all the help that you can find.”

You sighed, turning around on the couch so you were facing him — legs still against your chest. “Okay so… I went to his place...”

“Yes…”

“And... we had dinner, talked for a bit.”

“How was the talk?” He asked.

You shook your head, trying to kill the memories inside. “He didn’t let me say a word. He just went on and on about this new website he’s working on, and how expensive his wine glasses were.” You scoffed, angry at yourself for ignoring the clear red flags of an arrogant douchebag. That was what the desperate need for immediate human connection could do to someone, you thought. “Apparently it’s supposed to be the next Facebook or something. Or twitter. I honestly wasn’t paying much attention.”

He chuckled. “Starting off strong.”

“That wasn’t even the main issue,” you said, lowering your forehead so it was touching your knees. You just wanted the world to end at that moment, so you wouldn’t have to go through those experiences again. “After that, we sat on his couch and started watching a movie. And you know how that goes, we started kissing, he pushed me down and got on top of me…”

“And?” He instigated.

With a sigh, you raised your head, meeting your friend’s gaze. Taehyung thought he had never seen you look so dead inside. And he had seen a lot from you. “And he humped like… my lower abdomen for about three minutes and came in his pants.”

Taehyung cringed visibly, taking one hand to cover his mouth. “Oh, man. That’s bad.”

You nodded, strangely relieved at his reaction. Part of you was worried that you were the evil witch in that scenario, that maybe you had done something wrong. “The worst,” you agreed. “Wanna know what else?”

“What? There’s more?”

“He didn’t even ask me if I was satisfied with whatever the hell that was.” You told him, bitterness dripping from your tongue. In the grand scheme of things, that was something silly to get mad over, but the fact that your date didn’t even have the guts to ask if you had gotten something out of that was ridiculous. “Not that I could possibly be. But it’s like he didn’t care and I was just a pillow for him to hump like a… sexually repressed religious teen, I don’t know.”

Taehyung only nodded, realizing that there wasn’t much that he could say to fix the situation. “Was he a good kisser at least?”

You sneered. “I think he was trying to crush my face with his.” You glanced at your friend, only half of his face bathed by the yellow and orange shades coming from the television. Maybe a documentary about ancient history and alien expeditions wouldn’t be so bad. Worst case scenario, it would knock you out, and you wouldn’t have to think about that mess anytime soon. “Also, too much tongue, just… the amount of saliva…”

“Got it. You can stop there.” Taehyung raised one hand, his eyes closing for a second. His palm lowered and met one of your knees, standing there in a silent attempt at consolation. “I’m sorry about your terrible date experience, dude.”

“If you could even call it that.” You ran one hand through your hair, suddenly overtaken by a wave of anger. “God! I was just… so… ugh! Like… ughhhh!!”

Taehyung, bless his heart, sometimes couldn’t understand the random neanderthal sounds you threw his way. “So... what?”

At last, your makeshift protection came crumbling down, and you collapsed on the couch dramatically, legs dangling off the edge. Taehyung thought that you were being possessed for exactly two seconds before you started talking again. “I did a full body shave for this night, Taehyung. Do you realize what that means?” His lips fell open, but, before he had the chance to answer, you continued. “It means that I really wanted to get railed tonight. Actually, I wanted to find a guy who actually knew what he was doing for once in my life.”

Taehyung chuckled, trying to disperse the tension in the room. “Come on, the dating pool can’t be that bad.”

“Oh, it’s bad,” you said.

He wasn’t giving up that fast. “How bad?”

You raised your head to look him dead in the eyes, a silent threat, before finally uttering, “Try no-man-has-ever-made-me-cum bad,” and crashing your head back against the sofa.

If you weren’t so hyper-focused on your own sexual melodrama, you would have noticed the thick silence that fell between the two of you, Taehyung’s face contorting into fifty different emotions within a few seconds. He thought that he had heard it all — from the secrets hidden in Machu Picchu to the obvious extraterrestrial influence on earthy religion — but no amount of bad documentaries could ever prepare him for that revelation. That didn’t make any sense.

“Wait. Seriously?” He finally found his voice and managed to push his doubt out of his throat. “You’ve never had an orgasm before?”

You chuckled, humorless. “Oh no, I’ve had plenty of those. Just not from another person.”

“How’s that possible?” he asked.

“I ask myself that every single day.” You sighed, forcing yourself to sit back up. Taehyung was staring at you like you had just grown two extra arms, and you wondered what an amazing sex life he must’ve had for that confession to get him so confused. “Guess I’m just really bad at picking partners, who knows.”

There was a soft grunt on your throat as you fixed your position on the couch, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of your entire day piling up at once. Your gaze mindlessly traveled to the TV — a big plasma monstrosity that Taehyung had bought compulsively during a Black Friday sale — looking at a white-bearded man pointing maniacally towards a specific, round-shaped hieroglyph. You didn’t even need to hit play to know that he was making it seem like it was an UFO, but curiosity got the best of you.

“Can you pass me the remote?” You asked, pointing at the small device that laid beyond Taehyung’s body. “I kinda wanna see what—”

“I’ve made tons of girls have orgasms,” Taehyung interrupted, looking at you like he had just clicked out of a transe.

You laughed at his monotone voice. “I’m happy for you, Tae.” You leaned over his legs so you could finally reach the remote. “That wasn’t a jab at your masculinity, I’m sure you’re a very caring partner, and I’m sure there’s tons of guys out there that—”

“I can make you cum too, if you want.”

You had just grabbed the small piece of plastic when his sentence hit you like a smack in the face, making you drop the remote back on the couch, eyes widening. “You… what?”

He suddenly broke eye contact, taking one hand to massage the back of his neck. “Did that sound as creepy as I think it did?”

“A bit, yeah.” You forced out a light chuckle, trying to break the ice. There was no sign of mockery in his voice, and you didn’t know how to react. You could not say that the offer wasn’t tempting (you’d be lying if you claimed that you didn’t think Taehyung was attractive), but his proposal was so oddly-placed that it sounded like a joke. “What are you talking about?”

Taehyung sighed, turning his head to look at the television. “I just think it’s really unfair that no one has ever made you cum before.”

You smiled. “That’s very nice of you, but…”

“And I want to help you with that.” He looked back at you. Oh, he was being a hundred percent serious. There was no longer a single ounce of doubt in your mind. “We’re friends, it’s not gonna be weird. We’ve done similar stuff before.”

“We were a lot younger, though.” You didn’t know why your mouth suddenly felt so dry, your fight or flight response kicking at full strength. You could tell that Taehyung was also trying to convince himself about the strangeness of the situation. “It’s gonna be kind of weird, yeah.”

“Not if we don’t make it weird,” he threw back. Was it bad that you were actually considering it? Maybe it was the piled-up exhaustion combined with the years of sexual frustration, maybe you were finally out of your mind. But you were really considering it. “I don’t wanna pressure you, alright? Just making a friendly offer. If you don’t want it, that’s fine.”

You kind of wanted it, though. There was too much accumulated libido inside you from years and years of unsatisfying partners, and you trusted Taehyung with your entire heart. It sounded like a safe enough bet: if all went to shit and it got too awkward, you two could just stop, no hard feelings. Besides, you knew that Taehyung cared about you, which was more than you could say about all your dates in the past couple years.

And the more you stared at him, probably looking like a deer in the headlights, the more you grew soft under his presence. At once, you were hit with desires that you had never considered before: you wanted to kiss those soft lips, wanted to know how his large hands would feel around you. You really, really wanted to know how it was to have a good sexual experience with someone, and you couldn’t think of a better candidate than your best friend. Even if you still thought it could be seen as a little bit weird.

But you also kind of didn’t care.

You licked your lips, finally finding your voice after a long moment of silence. “How… how would you do it?”

Taehyung turned his head and looked at you, noticing the expectation in your eyes. “How would you want me to do it?” He asked.

You tried to think, but your mind was completely blank. What did you want him to do? What did you like? Suddenly you weren’t sure about anything anymore. “I don’t know,” you admitted, glancing down.

Taehyung smiled at your nervousness, one of his hands moving to your chin and tilting your head up. “How ‘bout I start by kissing you?” He questioned, gaze flickering to your parted lips. “Is that alright?”

There were no words in your throat, so you simply nodded, closing your eyes as he leaned in.

Taehyung’s mouth tasted of vanilla and you thought, even for a moment, that you were in paradise. The second that his tender lips met yours, your anxiety melted away, giving space to a newfound flame of desire. Taehyung kissed you softly, sensually, taking his time caressing your mouth and drowning in your heat. His hand moved to the back of your head, pressing you closer to him and leaning your head to the side so he could deepen the kiss.

He sighed heavily into your mouth when your tongues met, his other hand moving to hold your waist. The position on the couch was kind of awkward for kissing, with the two of you sitting side by side, so it wasn’t an unwelcome surprise when Taehyung tugged you onto his lap, making you straddle him.

The kiss was starting to get hungrier, messier, a small whimper dying in your mouth when his palms traveled down to cup your ass, pressing you down against his semi-hard cock. Taehyung sighed and groaned at the feeling of you on top of him, loving the way that your fingers played with his hair, your body so perfectly tight against his. If there was any hesitation before, it had completely vanished by that point.

It caught you off guard when he suddenly broke off the kiss to ask you, “Do you like any pet names?”

You blinked, taken aback. “Hm? What?”

He placed a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You know, you want me to call you by something?”

You realized that Taehyung was really taking that personal service to a different level, and you couldn’t say that you were let down by it. If any of your past partners had the dignity to ask what you liked, you wouldn’t be in that position in the first place. “I… like being called ‘baby’,” you told him.

Taehyung smiled. “That’s cute. Baby it is.”

Before you had a chance to respond, Taehyung’s lips were back on yours, a dreamy sigh leaving his mouth as your tongues met once again. Only a few seconds passed before he shifted his weight to lay you down, never breaking the kiss as he positioned himself between your legs, hovering over you. Taehyung started trailing a path of kisses down your neck, his large hands slithering beneath your oversized shirt and caressing the skin of your stomach.

“Can I take this off?” He asked, tugging at your shirt.

You agreed and, within a heartbeat, that piece of clothing was already on the floor, and Taehyung was diving in to kiss the valley of your naked breasts. You moaned timidly when one of your nipples was wrapped by his lips, his tongue coming out to play with it. Taehyung’s other hand was occupied fondling your other breast, tugging and pressing down on it, and the sensations were taking over your mind.

“You have great tits,” Taehyung mumbled against your skin, switching to mouth your other nipple.

“I’m glad you like them,” you teased, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. You were letting out these cute little whimpers that were making him lose his mind. “Feels really good.”

“Yeah?” He asked, moving back to kiss his way up your neck. His tongue was hot and heavy as it danced on your skin, and you knew that those sucks he was giving you were surely gonna leave a few marks on your flesh. But you didn’t really care. “Gonna make you feel even better, baby.”

Your eyes fluttered shut at the pet name — it sounded heavenly when Taehyung used it with his deep, honeyed voice; his warm breath hitting your neck as he continued with his ministrations.

He kissed his way to your cheek, placing a small pec on your lips before saying, “Can you do something for me?”

You nodded. “What is it?”

Instead of responding right away, Taehyung’s gaze fell to your lips, and he was once again attacking them. That time, you weren’t able to hold back the whimper that you let out, your panties already glued against your core with how much he was turning you on.

One of his hands had trailed down your exposed abdomen, teasingly playing with the hem of your shorts. You held your breath when he tugged them down, bringing your underwear with it and throwing them somewhere in the living room. Taehyung grunted loudly when his fingers slipped past your folds, digging into your heat. His brain almost short-circuited because of how wet you were.

He broke the kiss and looked you deep in the eyes. “I want you to sit on my face, baby,” he said, and his request shot straight to your core. “Let me take care of you, okay?”

“Are you sure?” You asked. You had never done that before.

But Taehyung wasn’t sharing your reluctance. “Yeah,” he said, voice hoarse and eyes darkened. “Wanna taste you so bad. Sit on my face, please.”

And you didn’t need any more convincing than that. Taehyung helped you get up from the couch so he could reposition himself on it, laying flat on his back and watching as you settled yourself above him, thighs on either side of his head. The couch was the exact size for that, a little smaller and you’d have one leg dangling off the edge.

Taehyung took his hands to your thighs, running them up to your hips. His eyes were focused on your pussy, and you never felt so exposed when he started pressing you down lightly, guiding you closer to his mouth.

You held the back of the couch for support and did as he requested, lowering yourself until Taehyung had you flat on his tongue. Your breath trembled and caught in your throat when he licked a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit, humming around the taste before doing it again. Taehyung was an expert at erasing your worries because, with a few more licks, he had you fully losing yourself in his sinful ministrations.

It wasn’t long until you were whining out his name, your folds lazily dragging against his tongue as you started to grind on his face. “God, Taehyung!” You called out, hand coming down to tug at his hair. Taehyung grunted in satisfaction, the vibrations of his deep voice sending shockwaves through your pussy. “That’s… that’s really nice. You’re really good at this.”

He moaned in response, closing his eyes at your words. Taehyung was eating you out like his mouth was made for it, like he was starving for your taste and you were all that he could think about. He licked you from your entrance to your clit, playing with your sensitive spots and enjoying the tremors of pleasure that ran through your thighs, his hands locked tight around your hips. You sobbed and cried over him, making special effort to keep your legs steady as you rocked yourself on his tongue.

It was only when he decided to suck on your clit that you realized how absurdly close you were. You clenched your teeth and whined out, yanking his hair harder. “Do that again, please,” you asked and Taehyung, like the good friend that he was, was quick to comply. Taehyung wrapped his mouth around your clit in a way that had you trembling over him, licking and sucking on your sensitive nub like his life depended on it. “Fuck, that’s so good, Tae. Feels so good…”

He moaned again, more desperate this time, and some part of your mind understood the pattern that he was presenting you: Taehyung really, really liked your compliments. And you had no problem giving away any more of them.

“You’re licking me so well, Tae, you’re gonna make me cum like this,” you told him, meaning every word you said. Taehyung was a Greek god beneath you, staring up at you with those dark, focused eyes as if he dared you to cum on his tongue. “God! You’re so good for me.”

And then your praises ran thin, because your mind was gravitating somewhere else — seeking for the high that was dangerously close. It was only when Taehyung started toying with your entrance, brushing two of his fingers on it, that you came undone, crying out his name like it was a personal prayer.

There was a smirk on your mouth as you came down, a flooding relief that overtook you. You never thought that you could come so hard in your life, especially when it depended on another person, and you were so, so happy to be wrong that you could cry.

With shaky legs, you removed yourself from Taehyung’s face, straddling his lap and watching as his lips glistened with your arousal. His pink tongue came out to lick them, a hum on his throat as he took in your fucked-out expression.

“You did so well, baby,” he said, placing one of his hands on your waist. “Come here.”

Obedient, you leaned in and sighed as his mouth met yours. This time, Taehyung didn’t wait to eagerly insert his tongue inside your mouth, making you taste yourself on him.

He pulled away leisurely, his voice hoarse. “Can you taste how sweet you are?” He asked. “I loved making you cum on my tongue, baby. You looked so pretty.”

Taehyung breathed out, planting kisses on your neck, one hand trailing down to squeeze your ass. You whined at his tight grip and pressed yourself down on him, feeling his hard cock poking out against the fabric of his sweats.

Taehyung groaned at the stimulation, pressing down on your asscheek again. You rolled your hips on top of him, wincing in sensitivity as his member brushed your clit. “Loved your pussy so much, baby,” he continued, sounding like he was lost in a daydream, “I can’t wait to be inside you. Bet you’d be so tight for my cock, hm?”

“Yeah,” you managed to speak. Even if you had just reached your orgasm, you were still aching to feel something inside you. You wanted Taehyung more than you could understand. “I want you to fuck me, Tae, please.”

He breathed out, his hands tightening around your flesh as you rolled your pussy against his cock once again. Taehyung looked like he was one heartbeat away from completely losing his self control, and hearing you beg for him to fuck you wasn’t doing him any favors. “Gonna need to lie down for me, baby,” he asked.

With a few more shifts on the couch, Taehyung had you beneath him once again, your legs open for him as he removed his shirt and pants. It wasn’t long before his cock sprung free from its confinement, standing erect. You licked your lips at the lustful sight, pussy clenching in anticipation as you took him in — Taehyung was big. Bigger than anyone you’ve ever had, that’s for sure; long and thick and already leaking for you.

You would’ve cried out in need if he didn’t interrupt you. “What are you looking at?” Taehyung asked, the ghost of a smile creeping up on his lips.

Your stare oscillated toward his own. “That’s why you have such a good track record, your cock is huge.” You bit your lip, thinking about how good he would feel inside you. You didn’t know how it was possible, but you were pretty sure the last time you’ve seen his cock — back in the dark ages of your freshman year of college — it wasn’t as big as that. Or maybe you just didn’t have anything to compare it to.

“Hey, I just used my tongue on you, don’t ignore my efforts,” Taehyung teased, wrapping one of his hands around his member so he could pump himself a few times. The playful atmosphere swiftly shifted back, and, when he spoke up again, his voice was deeper. “You think you can take it?”

“Yeah, I can,” you said. You couldn’t be sure, but you were sure going to try.

Taehyung hummed, moving a bit closer so he could brush his tip against your pussy, coating it with your wetness. You closed your eyes in expectation, knowing that you’d love the stretch he would give you.

“You want it?” He asked, a touch of desperation covering his words. Taehyung was nearing his breaking point, and the fluttering of your pussy on his cock was making him go insane. “Want my cock inside your tight little cunt, baby?”

You nodded, frantic. The brushing of his thick tip on your hole was becoming too much, your walls clenching around nothing, seeking for something to fill you up. “Yes, fuck, I want it so bad.”

“Are you tight for me, baby?” He was trying to prolong that moment for as much as he could, keep the pretty face you made when you pleaded for him to fuck you burned in the back of his head. Making you cum once was a victory he would take forever, but making you cum around his cock might as well be his life’s biggest achievement. “Ready for me to fuck you?”

You cried out when he started pressing himself inside you, guiding his crown inside your pussy, then stopping. “Yes, Tae, just put it all in, please,” you whined, hands fumbling for support on his broad shoulders. Taehyung already had you clenching around nothing, you didn’t know what else he wanted from you. “Please, please, fuck me.”

Taehyung chuckled, looking down at where you two met. He was only human, and his self control was short lived. “Since you asked so nicely…”

Your back arched off the sofa as you felt the delicious drag of his large cock inside you, opening you up gradually, taking its time before filling you up to the brim. You gasped and sobbed at the overwhelming feeling, nails digging on the skin of his back as Taehyung groaned besides your ear.

“Fuck, that’s so good.” He let out a shaky breath, and you swore you never heard his voice get so husky before. “I just slipped right in. You’re so fucking wet.”

Your mind was an apocalypse of confused thoughts and forgotten exclamations, eyes fluttering shut as you dove into the sensation of Taehyung inside you — his hips angling backwards, tilting up just enough so he could move himself away from you core, only to come slamming back inside. The stretch of his cock was amazing, it was making you drunk, and all that you could think about was how much pleasure it was giving you.

“So-So big—“ you muttered, half aware that the words actually left your lips.

“How do you like it, uh?” Taehyung asked, his voice dripping sin and hunger. You could tell that he, too, was getting carried away by the feeling, his hips rutting themselves against you at a lazy pace. “Gonna give it to you any way you want it, baby.”

You bit your lip, a small moan leaving your mouth when Taehyung leaned closer to you, distributing hot kisses on your neck. You swore you’d be happy if you died then. “I like it rough,” you answered.

He groaned, apparently satisfied with your response. “Whatever you want.”

Taehyung got to his knees on the couch, deciding to put one foot on the ground for support, his hands raising your hips to help him reach even deeper inside you. Faster than your brain could compute, the shallow, lazy pace he had sat was being replaced with a harsh, fast pumping that made you cry out his name, eyes closing in sheer bliss.

“Tae! Yes, yes, just like that,” you sobbed, running one hand through your hair. You felt like your body was floating, every cell of your body overheating with the amazing pleasure that Taehyung was giving you. You never had someone fucking you so hard, his cock pistoning inside you, your body bobbing up and down on the couch.

Taehyung’s eyes were glued to the bouncing of your breasts as he continued to fuck you, a deep groan leaving his chest. “That’s it, take it,” he moaned out, quickening his pace even more. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, mouth opening in a silent scream. “Gonna make you cum so hard around my cock, baby. Gonna fuck you until you cry. Want that?”

“Yes, yes, please,” you moaned. “Feels so good, Tae.”

“You like my cock, baby? Like it filling you up?” He asked and you could only nod pathetically, your entire body too fucked out to even respond. “F-fuck, your pussy is so good. Tell me that you love my cock.”

“I love your cock,” you whined, feeling like a complete hot mess under his thrusts. “I — fuck! — I love your cock so much, Tae, it’s so big.”

Your words motivated him to fuck you even harder, his member hitting even deeper inside you. Taehyung was getting lost in the stretch of your pussy around him, the glorious sounds you were making, the lust that coated your face every time you called out his name.

“Shit, I don’t know how anyone could look at you like this and not want to see that pretty face cum.” He was breathing out hard, grunting every time your cunt tightened around him. Taehyung wanted to see you like that forever, taking his cock like a good girl, creaming all over him and begging to do it again. You were wrapping around him so perfectly, taking all of him so well, that he didn’t think he’d manage to move on from that anytime soon. “So fucking hot.”

Taehyung chased after your high like a starving man looking for food, experimentally changing the angle and force of his thrusts to see what would get the best reaction out of you. At last, after a pathetically loud cry from your part after he raised your legs up, it seemed as if he had found it. “I bet you’d be so tight cumming around my cock, baby,” he was thinking out loud at that point, trying to make sense of the pretty sounds and expressions you were giving him so eagerly. He wanted nothing more than to see you cum — it was personal at that point. “I wanna feel you cum around me, baby. Wanna feel it so bad.”

“I’m c-close.” Your nails dug into his shoulders, eyes closing tightly. There was a light heat in your cheeks and sweat on your forehead that was making Taehyung wonder if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. “You’re so good, T-Tae, you’re fucking me so well…”

Taehyung thought that he could cum right then and there, pushed over the edge with those sweet words alone. He loved being good to you, loved making you feel things that no one else managed to before. He was intoxicated by that sense of superiority, drowning in your praise. He wished that he could fuck you forever.

“Cream my cock, baby, come on,” he pushed you on, his words hanging somewhere between an order and a breathless plea. You were getting so tight around him that it was making him crazy, your wetness coating his cock and dripping down between your legs like his own personal brand of aphrodisiac. “You can do it, come on. I wanna see you cum so bad.”

You smiled at him, a cute, fucked-out smirk that made Taehyung go to heaven and back. “So good for me, Tae, you’re so big,” you said, your voice so needy and high-pitched. Your orgasm was looming over you, pressing down on your lower body and making you see stars. It was only a matter of time before Taehyung got you crying out his name, back arching off the couch and mouth falling open in delirium. “Tae! Fuck! Don’t stop, please, I’m gonna—“

But your warning came a second too late, because you were already spasming around his length, body shaking as Taehyung thrusted hard inside you. Just as expected, you were absolutely fucking gorgeous when you came — all quivering lips and rolling eyes —, and Taehyung was beyond satisfied to know that he was the only one who saw that pretty face of yours.

“That’s it, baby, fuck.” Taehyung was starting to feel his own high approaching, called by the delicious tightening and releasing of your pussy around him. His thrusts were messy and harsh; his sweaty hair falling over his eyes like a cascade. “Can I cum inside you, baby? Can I fuck you full of my cum?”

You noticed the desperation in his tone and, with the throbbing of his member inside you, you knew that he wasn’t far. “Yes, please,” you said. “You were so good for me, Tae, you can cum wherever you want.”

And it was that final taste of praise that pushed Taehyung over his limit; waves upon waves of cum filling you up as he rode out his high. “God— fuck!” He cried out, drunk on the feeling of your walls milking the last drops of cum out of his cock. A few lazy pumps later, and he was collapsing on top of you with a mumbled, “F-Fuck.”

There was an instant of silence after his orgasm, the quietude only filled by Taehyung’s heavy breathing. You took one hand to his head, caressing the strands as a smile blossomed on your lips. “Well, I believe you now,” you said playfully. “I’m sure you made a bunch of girls orgasm.”

Taehyung chuckled, breathless. “Thank you, I try,” he said, looking up at you. The darkness in his gaze was gone, and it was just your best friend staring back at you. “You alright?”

“I’m great,” you admitted. You never felt so good in your life. “You?”

“Fantastic, thanks for asking.” He leaned back so he could sit up, running one hand through his disheveled hair before saying, “I’m gonna grab you a towel, hang on.”

Taehyung left you for a couple minutes before coming back to clean you up, tenderly wiping away the mess you two had created. After he was done, he discarded the towel on the floor and crawled back to rest on your chest once again.

There was a comforting quietude that floated in the atmosphere, only filled by the muffled buzzing of his freezer and the vague sound of raindrops drumming on the window. You didn’t really know how to deal with that entire situation, didn’t know how things would stay between the two of you. But, at that point, you made the decision to keep those worries for the following morning and, instead, just enjoy his warmth radiating all around you.

The glorious silence, at last, was broken when Taehyung started mumbling against your breasts. “Hey, ___?” He called.

“Yeah?”

“How many dates have you been on?”

You hummed, thinking for a moment. “Ever?”

Taehyung made a clicking sound with his tongue. “I don’t know, like, this past year.”

“Uh… like… five or six? I think?” You answered, looking down to meet his gaze. You knew that wicked expression very well. “Why?”

He smiled. “Because we have a lot of shitty dates to make up for.”

#bts fic #bts smut #taehyung smut #taehyung fic #bts #taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung x you #taehyung x reader #bts x you #bts x reader #reader insert #smut #au #taehyung au #bts au

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brokutosan · 5 years ago

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Title. Quarantine Tales Or alternatively; Bokuto Tries Baking and Nearly Poisons His Two Roommates/Best Friends

Pairing. Bokuto Koutarou x Platonic!Reader x Kuroo Tetsurou + Minor BokuAka and Kuroo Tetsurou x Fem!Reader

Summary. In which a pandemic hits the world and tests the ten year long friendship between three roommates. Or; Kuroo enters quarantine as a cheeky bastard, and walks out of it as a cheeky bastard with a really pretty girlfriend.

Warnings. Manga spoilers, very strong language, and lots of sexual innuendos. Also lots of platonic cuddling and skinship. It gets kind of steamy at the end but nothing too bad. This is basically just a collection of short stories that also kind of has a plot. Fair warning: excessive use of the words ‘bro,’ ‘dude,’ and ‘man.’

Once the news of the pandemic hit Japan, the three roommates were confident they’d come out as better individuals. Maybe pick up on a new hobby, drop a few pounds (or in Bokuto’s case, gain some muscles), and just have a good time, making the best out of the worst situation. They were good at that.

At first, however, the three friends each had a different response to the news. Bokuto decided to splurge and buy everything they need and then some they didn’t (he was making bank from being a pro athlete). He was convinced that the apocalypse was going to happen soon, and that they’ll need all the rations they could get before it’s too late. Kuroo decides to confiscate his Netflix account and told him to stop watching The Walking Dead.

During the first few days Y/N easily got swept up in Bokuto’s bullshit, also convinced that the apocalypse was coming. (“Kuroo, look! The cases doubled over the last few days! Tell me that doesn’t mean something!”) But she was easier to snap out of it, mostly because she’s not as childish as Bokuto. She did, however, buy all of her favorite snacks and put them in a secret stash. (Although Kuroo figured out where it was within three days).

Kuroo is the mediator between them. He’s a man of science, so “no, Bokuto, there’s no way the infected ones are turning into zombies, now stop crying!” He also took the liberty to create schedules and laid out some ground rules on when and how they should shop for groceries and things of that sort. He also made the rule that no one joins their Zoom meetings in the living room after Bokuto walked in on his screen ass naked.

All in all, they (Kuroo) were able to set up a system that ensured Bokuto doesn’t lose his mind out of boredom and Y/N doesn’t try to kill them in their sleep.

“If aliens take over the planet do you think I could become their overlord?”

“Doubt it. You need to have the brains for it.”

“Hey! I’m pretty smart!”

“Explain the process of osmosis.”

“Fuck you, Kuroo.”

Y/N listens in on the idiotic conversation between her two roommates, not daring to speak up in fear of losing her much needed brain cells.

“Y/N! Listen to this, Kuroo doesn’t think I’m smart enough to become an alien overlord!” Bokuto sits up from his spot on their living room floor, one elbow propped up to support his body. Y/N sighs, closing her book realizing there’s no way she’ll get the peace she needed.

“Kuroo doesn’t know what he’s talking about, Bo.” It’s only been one week since the mandated quarantine started. If Y/N gives in now, then she’ll only spiral into madness as the months go by.

“Hear that, you bastard?! Y/N-chan believes in me!” Kuroo looks unamused. There’s a shit eating grin on his face that Y/N wants to wipe off. Or punch off. Whichever happens first.

“Y’know what they say, owls of a feather stick together.” Kuroo’s probably referring to the fact that both Y/N and Bokuto attended Fukurodani. Either way, he’s insulting her. Y/N is seething.

“Shut up you cocky cat!” Y/N screeches, flinging her book to his relaxed figure on the floor. Kuroo lets out a groan as the hardcover book makes contact with his groin. “Shit, there goes my future generations.”

Bokuto emphasizes with his bro, placing a protective hand over his ‘lil man.’

During the third week of quarantine, Kuroo comes down with a cold. Or maybe he got the virus. That’s what Bokuto and Y/N are currently trying to figure out.

“Kuroo, man, I searched up your symptoms here and it says you have network connectivity problems. What does that mean?” Bokuto grumbles, aggressively tapping the laptop screen. Y/N scowls at the way he’s manhandling her laptop before snatching it away from his hold.

“That’s not what that means, dumbass.” Bokuto pouts. “It means someone fucking forgot to pay for the wifi for this month.”

Y/N is glaring at her bedridden roommate through her face mask, but the rooster head throws his hands up out of innocence. “Sorry, I was too busy trying not to die!”

“So what now?” Bokuto asks, trying to cut through the tension between his two roommates. Y/N sighs in response, shutting off her laptop. “Now we just have to wait for him to sleep it off. If he has the virus then we burn his room with him in it.”

“Hey!” Kuroo tries to object. Instead what comes out is a garbled noise followed by excessive coughing and Bokuto screeching something about the ‘zombie virus infecting his home,’ and then he bolted out of Kuroo’s room.

“Whatever,” Y/N sighs, knowing Bokuto would have been useless in this situation anyways, “just try to rest. I’ll come in to check on you every now and then to bring you food. You better eat it!”

“Aw, Y/N-chan, you really care about me, huh?” Kuroo fake gushes, pressing one hand on his chest and another on his forehead. “It’s sweet how you try to act all tough.”

“Bo! Go find the lighter!”

Six weeks into the quarantine, Kuroo is over his ‘virus scare’ and now it’s Bokuto who’s sick. Correction, lovesick. It’s starting to test Y/N’s thinning patience.

“Do you think ‘Kaashi would get annoyed if I call him again?”

“Bo, you’ve been facetiming him every single day since this quarantine started. What changed?”

“He hasn’t been messaging me back the last three days! Do you think he got tired of me? Do you think he realized I’ve been in love with him and now he hates me? Do you think he hates my owl memes? Damn, I should’ve just told him before this whole thing started.” Y/N snorts. Clearly. One less headache for her. Even the sight of Kuroo breathing is starting to irk her. One time she nearly slapped him across the head for sleeping on the couch. Quarantine is doing something to her.

“Y/N? Why aren’t you answering? Oh my god, you hate me too, don’t you?” Crap. She was too absorbed in her hatred towards Kuroo’s existence that she forgot this big baby was lying down on her lap crying about something. What was it again? Akaashi hates him? Impossible.

“Impossible.” Y/N doesn’t realize she is running her hand through his two-toned hair. Bokuto hums in content. Y/N is suddenly reminded of her dog from back home. She wonders how he’s doing.

“Keiji’s like, in love with you. If anything he’s probably just drowning in work. You know how busy he gets.” Even Y/N’s not buying it. Busy or not, three days of radio silence from Akaashi has to mean something. She just doesn’t want to deal with an emo Bokuto. She decides to pass the responsibility to Kuroo.

“Bo, I bet Kuroo has some pretty good advice for ya. Remember when he had that crush on Akari-chan for all of highschool?” Bokuto shoots up with a new look of determination. He yells out a ‘you’re the best, Y/N-chan!’ over his shoulders before dashing straight to Kuroo’s room.

Y/N smiles in triumph as she receives a plethora of messages from one very angry Kuroo Tetsurou, ranging from ‘Why would you do this to me?’ to ‘I fucking hate you.’ Serves him right for finishing the ice cream.

(Later they find out that Akaashi simply broke his phone and had to wait three days to get it fixed. Bokuto was over the moon).

Sometimes Y/N wears their highschool jerseys because she thinks they’re comfortable. Some days she wears Bokuto’s. Other days she wears Kuroo’s. Today she’s wearing Bokuto’s, and Kuroo doesn’t know why it’s pissing him off.

“Oh man! That thing looks like a dress on you!” Bokuto squeals like one of his fangirls. He dashes to where she is, minding her business making toast in the kitchen, and picks her up from under her arms a la Lion King style.

“Bo! Put me down, you dumbass!” She wiggles in his hold, legs thrashing around. It’s all meaningless though. Bokuto is a pro athlete and is 190cm. Any attempts to free herself remains futile against this giant man-baby.

“Kuroo, look! So cute!” Bokuto gushes, showing her off like a baby. He lightly loosens his hold on one arm and extends his hand to bring a finger up to her cheeks. Y/N is emitting a strange aura. Kuroo suspects she’ll start tearing his ass into pieces within ten seconds.

Correction, three seconds. Because somehow she figures out how to kick behind her and shove an ankle deep into Bokuto’s groin. Now Bokuto is wriggling around on the living room floor as Y/N returns to her toast.

Kuroo finds this amusing, yet there’s a foreign feeling deep inside his chest. Is he getting sick again? He’s gonna need to check on that later.

“Ou! What ‘ya watching?”

“Your Name.”

“Huh? Bokuto Koutarou. Did you forget?”

“Dude...” Y/N stares at him in disbelief. Bokuto doesn’t notice but that’s because he’s Bokuto, and just about everything flies over his head. Instead he plops down on the couch next to her and hogs all the blanket.

“Get the fuck out! Get your own blanket!” Bokuto doesn’t reply, but he hums and opens his arms as an invitation. Ah, another platonic cuddling, as Bokuto puts it. Y/N is touch starved and she can’t deny it, so she slides closer to his lean figure and lets her head fall on his chest.

Eventually they settle in, huddling impossibly close to each other as the movie reach its tear-jerking climax. They don’t notice Kuroo walk in with a scowl on his face.

“Oh hey, bro. Wanna watch?” Bokuto notices him first, lifting his head up from the crown of Y/N’s head. Y/N finally looks over Bokuto’s chest and spots Kuroo moving around in the kitchen.

“I’m good.” Is his short answer before he trudges to his room with a loud bang! from his door. Y/N flinches a little, but pays no mind to it. Instead she directs her focus back to the movie, where another sad scene is unfolding.

The movie reaches its ending, but not before Bokuto could ask, “So, what’s the actual title of the movie?”

One peaceful afternoon Bokuto decides to take in a stray cat. Except...

“Bokuto, you fucking idiot that’s a racoon!” Y/N screeches as she climbs Kuroo’s back. The rooster head screams as he backs away from Bokuto and ‘Mr. Fluffles.’ Bokuto stares at his frightened roommates and the ‘cat’ in his hand and then back at his roommates again.

Realization strikes, and now Bokuto is screeching with the other two, holding the raccoon as far away from his body as possible.

“If you fucking drop it, I’ll kill you!” Kuroo threatens, holding onto Y/N’s arm that’s starting to dig into his throat. “Take it outside!”

“But it’s raining!”

“Bokuto!”

“It’s you or him, man!”

The two continue their little back-and-forth, not noticing the raccoon had escaped Bokuto’s grasp. But Y/N notices. And it’s heading into her room. And now she’s seeing God.

“Bokuto, gah-!” Kuroo is rudely interrupted by Y/N’s tight hold on his throat getting tighter. Before he could give her hell for attempted murder, he notices the look of horror on her face. “What’s wrong?”

“Your fucking raccoon went in my bedroom!”

“Ah shit!” Both Kuroo and Bokuto scramble, the former forgetting all about the human person hanging onto his back. Said person is too scared of letting her foot touch the floor, afraid that it might be met by the furry abomination Bokuto brought home. So she kinda just...lets Kuroo run off into her room with her dangling off his neck.

“Where’d he go?!” Bokuto panics, not seeing Mr. Fluffles anywhere in his immediate vicinity. He starts flinging stuff off the ground and her table and her bed, making a huge mess in the span of ten seconds. Y/N takes one foot off of Kuroo’s waist and kicks him square in the back.

“Quit trashing my room!” She scolds like a mom. Bokuto pouts but continues looking, until they hear the quiet pitter patter of claws hitting the wooden floor. “Wait shut up!”

Y/N huffs but still complies, wanting nothing more than Mr. Fluffles gone from her room. Kuroo takes the liberty to start questioning Bokuto’s stupidity.

“How could you have possibly thought that thing was a fucking cat?!”

“In my defense, it was pretty dark outside.” Bokuto grumbles in his low and whiny voice, before firing back, “And stop calling him a ‘thing!’ Mr. Fluffles has feelings too!”

“Bokuto we’re not keeping it!” This time it’s Y/N yelling at him with fire in her eyes. The poor guy looks like he’s about to cry, but Y/N is far too gone over the thought of a raccoon making its home in her bedroom.

Bokuto lets out an ‘aha!’ as he emerges from under her bed with Mr. Fluffles. Y/N visibly relaxes knowing that the raccoon is safely contained. Until she remembers what was stashed under her bed.

“Ah, there’s something in his mouth.” Bokuto announces, holding Mr. Fluffles disgustingly close to his face. Her secret stash of snacks. The bastard got into it.

“Bokuto!!!”

(They later find out that at least four neighbors filed a noise complaint against them).

It’s two months in to the quarantine when Bokuto discovers TikTok. Within one week he’s dropped his towel in front of Kuroo, sat on Kuroo’s lap during his work Zoom meeting, smacked his gym bag across Kuroo’s face, and then some. Y/N finds humor in this, of course at Kuroo’s expense, but that’s even better.

Speaking of Kuroo and Y/N. Lately there’s been undeniable tension between his two roommates, and Bokuto doesn’t know how to resolve it. Everytime he tries to get them to talk they end up arguing.

He’s asked Akaashi for advice, but Akaashi simply told him to let them resolve it amongst themselves. Bokuto does not have the patience for that. He’s scared their meaningless arguments might rip a tear into their ten year long friendship.

So Bokuto does what he thinks is best, bake them cookies! No one could possibly be in a bad mood while eating freshly baked cookies, even Bokuto is drooling at the thought. So with a new resolve, Bokuto scrolls through his new favorite app (TikTok) to find some good recipes. Because TikTok has all the answers.

Except when he bakes the cookies he later finds out he used two cups of salt instead of sugar. He doesn’t know how that happened, but it could be because he grabbed the first white substance he saw and dumped it in the bowl.

Kuroo and Y/N somehow found a way to blame each other. Bokuto is reaching his limits.

Bokuto calls for an emergency meeting. He needs help deciding whether or not he should drop 40,000¥ on the Animal Crossing Limited Edition Switch that comes with Animal Crossing: New Horizons.

Y/N says go for it because she’s secretly plotting on stealing it the moment he gets tired of the game (which knowing Bokuto, would be fairly quick). Kuroo objects because Bokuto blew 50,000¥ last month buying shit he didn’t need for the quarantine.

And now there’s a fullblown argument between the two. Bokuto is reminded of his parents, except their fights never got this hostile and he’s pretty sure his mom never called his dad a “rooster-hair bastard!” He’s too scared to cut in. He thinks they might cut off his head. So he decides to sneakily crawl back into his room.

He ends up ordering the switch anyways, and when it arrives a week later Kuroo calls Y/N a bad influence. They argue again.

Bokuto has an epiphany.

Two days after Bokuto’s epiphany, they take a trip to the supermarket. Bokuto wants to drive but he can’t because his license got revoked after he ran through five consecutive red lights. Kuroo tells him this but he gets pouty so Kuroo had to buy him ice cream on the way there to get him to shut up.

So now Bokuto is slobbering up Kuroo’s car, much to the latter’s distaste. It isn’t until Kuroo brake checks him and Bokuto slams the ice cream on his face, does Kuroo show a look of content. Bokuto pays no mind, and decides to bring up his recent epiphany.

“So, bro, when are ya gonna tell Y/N you’re in love with her?” Kuroo slams his foot on the brakes again, this time out of shock. “I - uh - what - what did you just say?”

“Oh man,” Bokuto lets out a boisterous laugh while licking the ice cream that dripped down his shirt (gross), “you didn’t know?!”

“You two have had this sexual tension between you brewing for weeks! It’s like - I could actually cut through it with a knife, like a piece of pie or something!”

“I hate everything you just said.”

“Whatever man, just let me know if you want me gone for the night. I’ll even come up with a good excuse.” He winks, and Kuroo resists the urge to crash the car into a tree.

Bokuto’s words affect Kuroo a lot more than he would like to admit. Ever since that fateful trip to the supermarket with his owl-eyed friend, Kuroo’s been too wary of his other roommates existence. He wants to prove Bokuto wrong. He, Kuroo Tetsurou, is not in love with L/N Y/N, his best friend since his first year of highschool.

L/N Y/N is one of the guys! That’s like saying he likes Bokuto (Kuroo bites back his disgust). And Kuroo doesn’t like Bokuto, thank you very much.

Except L/N Y/N is not Bokuto.

L/N Y/N is his endless highschool memories that he always goes back to on a bad day. She is going to the beach during the summer and playing in the ocean until they tire themselves out. She’s like a warm hug that welcomes him after a long and tiring say. She’s like the rock that was flung at his ex’s window after she cheated on him with some other guy. She’s like the fun he’s had during the summer away games, where he got to play volleyball with his friends for one week straight. She’s like taking the long way home just so he could walk back with her. L/N Y/N is his best friend.

No, Y/N is not all those things. She is, however, the person he’s shared those memories with. The person Kuroo could say one hundred percent, without a doubt, knows him best (aside from Bokuto and maybe his mom). She’s the person that’s always been there through thick or thin, for ten years and counting.

Oh god. Kuroo Tetsurou is in love with L/N Y/N.

Bokuto has a plan in mind. A plan to help his two best friends hook up (and maybe date afterwards). Bokuto tells Akaashi his plans but Akaashi tells him all his plans are moronic, so he goes to his teammates Hinata and Atsumu, who says he’s a genius.

(The plan is simple: make Kuroo jealous. That bastard is as possessive as a dog over his food).

Which is how he finds himself seated at the kitchen table, phone in hand with a disgusted Y/N right across from him.

“No, you’re not giving my number to Miya Atsumu. That guy has shifty eyes!”

“Come on, you’ll learn how to love it! ‘Sides, Tsumu-tsumu is a nice guy! Did’ya really think I’d set my bestest friend in the world up with some sketchy guy?” If Bokuto’s normal talking voice is at a hundred, he’s talking at a hundred twenty now, just to make sure Kuroo can hear him from his room.

Y/N presses her palms to her ears, not really questioning why he’s talking so damn loud. Instead she blackmails him. “Bokuto if you don’t stop I’ll send Keiji all your embarrassing pictures from our first year.”

“You wouldn’t!”

But the look in her eyes says she would. And the ping! sound that came from her phone says that she just did. “Y/N!” Bokuto cries out, scrambling incredibly fast to his room where he left his phone plugged in, hoping he could stop Akaashi from witnessing the embarrassment that is Bokuto Koutarou as a fifteen year old.

Moments after Bokuto bolted to his room and is screaming out, “‘Kaashi! Block Y/N-chan right now! Don’t open her texts!” Kuroo steps out of his bedroom, having been shamelessly eavesdropping on their previous conversation.

“So,” He leans over the kitchen counter (he thinks he looks like hot shit but Y/N begs to differ), “Miya Atsumu, huh?” Her face contorts into something out of digust or discomfort, he can’t tell which one. Is it bad for him to say he likes that reaction? Probably.

“Don’t.” Is her short response, bringing up a hand in front of her body. “If Bokuto thinks I’m desperate enough to go for one of his teammates, then I’ve got a surprise for him. No offense to Shouyou.”

“So what I’m hearing is...it’s not the aspect of being in a relationship you’re totally against, but the guy himself?” Kuroo thinks out loud. Y/N throws him one of her infamous ‘what-the-fuck-are-you-talking-about’ looks, but he feigns ignorance to it.

“I mean, yeah? I haven’t had a good fuck since-” Kuroo decides to cut her off there, not really eager to learn the name of the man she’s...well, you get it! (Bokuto was right, this man truly is possessive).

“Anyways, good choice. I heard the other twin is where it’s at.” Kuroo ends the conversation there, with new knowledge about his new found crush and confidence over the fact that he still has a chance.

A week goes by just like that. Bokuto makes it painfully obvious he’s trying to make Kuroo jealous. Except painfully obvious is not obvious enough for his slightly-frustrating friend, Y/N.

At one point, when obviously Atsumu didn’t serve much of a threat to Kuroo (curse that idiot for being too easy to mock), Bokuto took matters into his own hands and tried flirting with Y/N himself. And while Bokuto is a lot of things, being smooth isn’t one of them. There’s a reason why he hasn’t made whatever he has with Akaashi official yet, he’s terrible at relationships and anything related to it.

(Though Kuroo had a riot witnessing Bokuto’s failed attempts at heterosexual flirting:

“So, you come here often?”

“Bo, I fucking live here.”).

And as much as Bokuto wants to just go out with it and announce to Y/N (and the world) that his totally radical bro, Kuroo Tetsurou, is in love with her, he has just about enough self control and conscience to know that doing that could only result in his immediate death at the hands of a very angry rooster-head. So he’s just been beating around the bush. For a week he’s tried to drop subtle hints that were, sadly, left dropped by Y/N. She’s almost as helpess as Bokuto. Almost.

But when an opportunity like this falls on his lap, Bokuto just knows he has to take it.

It’s at one of their annual roommate-bonding, a tradition they’ve held since moving in together during college. This time Kuroo is unable to join due to some hold-up at work. He’s in his room furiously typing away at his computer.

“So...” He makes sure to drag out the last vowel to gain her interest. Though it’s pretty useless since Y/N is as easy to fool as Bokuto himself. They’re best friends for a reason. A very bad reason, one might say.

“So what?” She asks, shoving about ten pieces of popcorn in her mouth all at once. Bokuto realizes he is tired of beating around the bush. He decides to set the metaphorical bush on fire. “Admit it, Y/N. You like Kuroo, don’t ‘ya? You wanna screw him or something?”

“Shh!” Suddenly Y/N is more invested in whatever Bokuto has to say than the shitty movie he picked out. And now she’s launched herself off her side of the couch onto his, pressing a greasy, buttery palm to his lips.

Bokuto easily swipes her hand away with a shit eating grin on his face. “So I was right! Which one is it? ‘Ya like him? Or you wanna screw him?”

“Bokuto!” She warns. Her eyes dart to Kuroo’s closed bedroom door, suddenly too aware of just now thin these walls actually are. It also didn’t help that Bokuto’s normal speaking voice is about as loud as a race car engine.

She realizes there’s no point in hiding it, since he’s looking at her with those creepy owl eyes, just daring her not to spill everything. “How’d you even find out?” She sighs in defeat.

“Come on! You’ve been so irritated lately that there was only two possible explanations: ya either love the guy or hate his guts. I don’t think you’d be friends with him for ten years if you hated him so much.” Y/N blinks in surprise. That’s surprisingly perceptive, coming from Bokuto. She tells him this.

“Hey! I’m capable of using my head too!” He doesn’t like how she’s giving him that judgement look. Clearing his throat, Bokuto decides to skip past that.

“So? Since when did ‘ya like the lucky bastard?” Bokuto expects one month, maybe two at best. What he didn’t expect was this: “Probably since highschool.”

“Wha-?!” His outburst is contained by a smaller body flying on top of his, as well as two palms pressed tightly over his mouth. Eyes wide, he looks down to see a flustered Y/N, pink cheeks and all, looking menacingly at Kuroo’s door, trying to see if he heard any of that.

Once she confirms she’s in the clear, she lets out the breath she’s been holding and smacks Bokuto across his biceps.

“Idiot! Don’t just scream like that!” She huffs, arms crossed at her chest. “I told you ‘cus I trust you, Bo. Don’t do anything stupid with that trust.” The man simply nods, still too shocked to form coherent words.

Once he does however, Y/N is hit with an onslaught of whispered questions. “Since when? How come I didn’t notice? How come anyone didn’t notice? Why-” He pauses, realizing his questions aren’t being answered. So he waits as she brings her legs up to her chest with an unreadable expression.

“I mean it was pretty easy to hide it. We went to different schools, and whenever we hung out you were always there,” Y/N starts, but quickly adds, “I mean, not like I didn’t want you there! It’s just - it was easier to forget I even liked him whenever the three of us were together.” Her voice is barely above a whisper, probably still wary of the fact that Kuroo was only one room over. Bokuto notices this and turns up the volume of the TV, earning a small smile from his nervous wreck of a friend.

“At one point I was actually gonna tell him, but then he started dating Akari-chan.” Bokuto scowls at the name. Akari, the girl that Kuroo crushed on for a full year, but also the girl that ended up cheating on him with some guy in her painting club. “I wasn’t really the type to cry over a small crush, I had other things to do. Actually I was kind of relieved. Kuroo being taken meant I didn’t have to act on these weird feelings I started having.”

“And next thing I knew we were off to college. I started dating other people, and my feelings for him started shrinking. Even when we decided to move in together, we were all so busy with our separate lives, so I wasn’t really worried about it...until, y’know, we kinda got stuck here together. I guess seeing him 24/7 just caused my head to malfunction. I thought fighting with him would stop these weird...feelings, from coming back. But I guess that backfired on me since you ended up finding out. Wait - Bokuto are you crying?”

The said man tucks his head in his arms, mumbling out “No,” even though it was pretty obvious. Y/N softly smiles, finding his reaction kind of cute. It was nice to know he cares that much, no matter how infuriating he could get.

“I didn’t even know you went through that much, Y/N-chan. C’mere! Lemme give you a hug!”

“Bokuto, no! I don’t need-” The rest of her complaints are drowned out by a sturdy chest meeting her face. Great. Bokuto’s way too emotional now.

“I’m sorry, I promise I’ll help you tell him!”

“Wait what? I don’t want that!” Y/N tries to argue, but her voice is muffled due to being stuffed into his chest. Suddenly remembering that Bokuto has a tendency to be a loud mouth and could never keep a secret from Kuroo, Y/N shoots up, pressing her palms to his chest to release herself from his hold.

“Bo, you have to promise me you won’t tell him anything.”

“But -”

“Bokuto!” He slightly recoils from the sternness of her voice, before he bows his head and nods. Y/N relaxes a bit, settling back into her previous position and fixed her focus back to the movie playing on the TV as if their previous conversation never happened.

Unbeknownst to her, Bokuto is already putting the pieces together for his master plan.

Y/N comes to regret telling Bokuto her ‘dirty’ little secret exactly one week later, at their next roommate-bonding. This time Kuroo is there, with Bokuto right in between them on the couch. There’s another shitty movie playing in the background (curtesy of Bokuto’s horrible choice in films), but Y/N can’t bring herself to pay attention.

She does however, snap out of her little daydream when Bokuto shoots up, phone in hand and reaching for the door. Oh no. Both Kuroo and Y/N think to themselves.

“Ah! What’s this?! There’s an emergency at ‘Kaashi’s apartment?! Guys, I’ll be right back!” Bokuto is out the door before either of them could object. Y/N knows Akaashi. Akaashi is a safe guy. He’s not the type to call out of nowhere because of an emergency, and even if he did, Bokuto surely would not be the first contact in mind. Which means, Bokuto, that sneaky bastard, planned this with the single brain cell he had left.

Silence fills the air for the next five minutes, until Kuroo’s phone sounds off. It’s a text from Bokuto, reading: When I come back you two better be-

Kuroo decides to turn off his phone there, fearing the contents of the very explicit paragraph Bokuto sent following those words. Instead he turns his head to his friend next to him - or rather on the opposite side of the couch, avoiding him like he’s the plague.

He doesn’t like this awkwardness at all. Conversation between them used to always just flow, even if most of them end up becoming a heated debate over the most trivial things. Kuroo decides to man up. It’s now or never.

“Okay so -” “Hey -” The two pause, finally making eye contact for the first time in past week. All of Kuroo’s brain cells fly out his brain and out the window, leaving him to fend off for himself in this awkward situation. His head is like that one Spongebob meme. Oh god, he’s turning into Bokuto-

“So,” Y/N’s voice snaps him out of his train of thoughts, or rather his lack of it. This is pathetic. He’s a grown man and he’s acting like a highschooler over a pathetic crush. Except this isn’t a pathetic crush. This is Y/N - his best friend for the past ten years, who he’s just now realized is a lot prettier than he initially thought.

“I’m in love with you.” Yes, yes he is. Wait, that wasn’t his voice. And that definitely wasn’t his subconscious trying to patch up what’s left of his decimated ego, which means -

“Kuroo?” Jesus fuck, when did she even slide over this close? “You don’t have to answer or anything, I just thought I should tell you first before Bokuto breaks. I understand if you don’t feel the same way-”

“No!” She flinches at how loud his voice is. “I mean, fuck - wait. You gotta let me process this real quick.” Kuroo is suddenly aware he’s redder than his Nekoma jersey, and her face is super close to his, and her lips look totally kissable right now.

“I’m in love with you, too.” Kuroo finally speaks up. He notices how she goes stiff, and how quickly her face turns into a bright shade of red.

“You don’t have to say it just ‘cus you feel bad! This doesn’t have to change anything between us! I mean, I’ve kept it a secret for ten years, I can do ten more-”

“Y/N.” She finally stops her rambling, meeting his eyes. And she doesn’t know why, but suddenly she just knows he’s being sincere. She could probably die right now and she’d say she lived a happy life.

“I’m gonna kiss you now.” Kuroo waits for her confirmation, in this case a shy nod, before cupping her cheeks with his large and warm hands. He inches over slowly at first, but lets his lips eagerly meet hers with a smile. He feels her hands wrap around his waist, letting him deepen the kiss.

It starts of slow and steady, everything Y/N could have ever dreamed of, until needy hands start roaming her body. She has to crane her neck to meet his lips, and Kuroo probably sensed her discomfort because now he’s gripping her waist tightly, lifting her up gently and placing her down on his lap.

The new and more comfortable position allows Kuroo to deepen the kiss, and Y/N finds her hands grabbing the hair she’s been insulting so much for the past two months. Kuroo sighs into the kiss, with Y/N smiling a bit at the situation. As things escalate, a loud gasp breaks them out of their trance.

“Oh. My. God!” Bokuto is squealing like an idiot and Akaashi is behind him unamused. “Finally.” Is his short statement.

“What the fuck Bokuto!” Kuroo growls. Y/N, suddenly a bit too self conscious climbs off the spot she made for herself on Kuroo’s lap. Though her embarrassment doesn’t last long, before she joins Kuroo in glaring at Bokuto.

“I just came back ‘cus I forgot my wallet, but oh man! You guys are adorable!” Akaashi is still behind him, but this time he looks more apologetic. “Bokuto-san, maybe we should leave.”

“Nah, I kinda wanna stay.”

“Bokuto!”

“Get the fuck out!” Bokuto only laughs as he catches both the pillow and the remote control thrown at him. He drops both items back down on the living room floor and snatches his wallet from the counter before calling over his shoulders,

“Yeah, yeah. Just make sure ya make me the best man and the maid of honor!”

A/N. Reupload! This fic was totally self-indulgent bc I am so bored of quarantine and am currently wishing I had a Bokuto and Kuroo to keep me entertained. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! And as always, thank you for reading! Leave a like if you...liked it? Is that how it goes? - chuu

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sinner-as-saint · 5 years ago

Text

Bad Reputation.

Mob! Seb x reader AU.

A/N: I was initially gonna do some cheesy ass, so-fluffy-you-could-die imagine. But then I was like, I have my thirsty, horny children waiting on me. So, here you go.

Run-through: You work as a bartender at one of the many bars owned by the biggest, most respected mob in the city; Sebastian Stan. And one night, things get…interesting.

Themes: Smut, mob! Seb, language, age gap

A/N (ii): I don’t know what time it is when you’re reading this, but Happy Birthday to our baby boy/ Romanian God Sebbie!!

You placed the cloth down, next to the beer glasses and sighed. The day had been tiring; consisting of countless clients, a few drunken fights which the security guards handled with ease, a few older men flirting with you.

And to top it all off, your boss; the owner of the bar you worked at, was pissed off when he came in and disappeared behind the door which led to the private/VIP area.

Why was he mad? You couldn’t quite tell. Then again, he was a mobster and his entire day revolved around barking orders at people and having to deal with the stupidity of those working with him. So, that probably explains the bad temper.

You never interacted much with Sebastian, he was rather quiet whenever he stopped by the counter for a pint of beer or on some more tough days; shots, before he went home.

He had everything; money, power, control over people, and he had earned enough respect in the city. Yet, it seemed as though he was lonely deep down.

Clearing your head of the thoughts of your boss, you glanced around one last time to make sure that everything was perfectly in place as you closed.

And you were about to pick your bag up and make your way out of the door, but a voice stopped you.

“Mind staying for a while longer, Y/N? I’m in terrible need of a drink,” your boss spoke up, stepping out of the VIP section.

He had a faint smirk on his face, and a hint of playfulness in his voice.

You smiled, nodded and got back to the other side of the counter; grabbing a large glass before he stopped you again.

“Beer won’t do it, I need something stronger,” he spoke as he approached and settled down on one of the stool.

He rested his hand on the counter and you noticed his bloodied and bruised knuckles. He took out a white handkerchief and wiped the blood off his hand, leaving behind a red stain on the white fabric.

You set the glass down and picked up two shot glasses and his favorite liquor. You poured both shots and pushed them towards him.

“Who was it today? The French guys?” you asked with a small smile; knowing perfectly well that he must have punched someone who didn’t obey, or agree to what he said.

It was a bad habit of his; among others.

Sebastian swallowed the first shot, then the second.

He chuckled right after, cherishing the feeling as the liquor burned down his throat.

“It was. They are…troublesome,” he answered, and watched you intently as you refilled the alcohol.

You noticed a shift in him. Not in his manner, but his voice.

He leaned against the counter and watched how you pushed the glasses towards him again. He smirked and pushed on of the glasses towards you.

You looked at it, then at him, questioning the situation.

“Oh come on, it’s my birthday. Celebrate with me,” he spoke with such an ease that it sent shivers down your spine.

His voice was suddenly deep and smooth. And the grin on his face made him look even more gorgeous than he already was.

You hesitated.

“Happy Birthday, but, I shouldn’t, Mr. Stan,”

“Why not?” he spoke, tilting his head to the side. The dimmed lights accentuated his features; he looked ravishing and lethal at the same time.

“Because you’re my boss. And I shouldn’t be drinking at work, let alone with you and I still have to walk home. I’m sorry sir,”

You knew he didn’t like that. He never liked it when people turned him down. He hated hearing ‘no’, and you knew that.

He chuckled again.

“It’ll be a secret between you and I, doll. Go on,” he persisted. And given his reputation, you didn’t want to argue further with the most well-known mob of the city.

You reluctantly held the glass and brought it to your lip, while Sebastian watched you with his mischievous, blue eyes.

You tilted your head back and swallowed the contents rapidly, frowning as the liquor burned your throat.

You placed the glass back down, in front of Sebastian and he smiled back.

“Happy Birthday to me,” he teased, winking at you; knowing he has won again.

He swallowed the other shot and looked up at you, his eyes shining in the dimmed lights. There was no one else in the bar, except for the two of you.

Sending a quick glance at clock, it read that it was nearly 11 p.m.

“You want anything else, sir?” you asked, seeing that he had finished his drink but was still sat at the counter.

Of course, he owned the place; he could do whatever he wanted in it.

An enticing look was seen on his face as he looked at you right after you questioned him. He was definitely not drunk yet, but he seemed more, lively.

“Yes, actually. I wanna know you better. Tell me, Y/N, why do you stick around here? Most women would run away from a place like this, the violence, the weapons, the…men, how do you handle it?,” he asked, and leaned forward on the counter.

His face was not far from yours, and you caught the hint of the alcohol in his breath. And you had to admit, he looked good from up close.

His blue eyes bore into your e/c ones.

You knew what he meant, the men who came in here were literal pigs; rich but downright barbaric.

“Well, the weapons and the violence doesn’t scare me. My dad got into a lot of fights when I was little, and I tended to his wounds, so the violence isn’t alien to me,”

His head shot up in interest as you spoke.

“As for the men, well, being a woman in a city like this one I just learnt how to live with it. No matter what I do, or where I work, they’re still gonna eye me like I’m a piece of meat. So, I might as well earn me some money while they do that,” you finished with a small smile.

Sebastian nodded, in appreciation of the answer he got.

Without another word said, he got off the stool and walked around the counter; making his way to the side where you stood. And soon, he stood right in front of you.

You didn’t have much resistance against alcohol, one shot was all it took to make you feel the buzz.

Sebastian stood right in front of you, and his hand reached out and tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear.

He was so close to you now that each breathe he let out fanned your face. And his scent was almost irresistible. Strong and fresh, he smelt tempting.

“You’re very impressive, Y/N. And very pretty too,” he complimented you and for the first time, you didn’t have a proper reply to give him.

Thank you?

“You too!” you spoke almost too fast and your tone was too cheery. Shit.

You corrected yourself quickly.

“I mean, thank you. And you’re very impressive too,” you breathed in his scent. He smelt amazing. Jesus, does he always smell that good?

He chuckled. And took a step forward, causing you to take one back; resulting in you being pressed against the counter and his built frame.

He was quite the ladies’ man in the city. And you often wondered why he hadn’t been officially involved with one of the many beautiful women who always roamed around him.

“Can I touch you, doll? I’m just, gonna steal a kiss or two,” he whispered as he brought his face closer to yours. You smelt the alcohol in his breathe clearly now.

Your heartbeat rang in your ears, and his scent invaded your senses.

You giggled.

“I think you’ve had too many drinks, you need to go home, sir,” you couldn’t help the smile which formed on your face.

He smiled back.

“Come on, it’s my birthday. I deserve a kiss from the prettiest girl I know,” he pouted slightly, sticking his bottom lip out. And it made you laugh.

Sebastian Stan, The Sebastian Stan; the most respected mob boss of the city was standing in front of you, pouting, because you won’t kiss him.

Good lord, what is happening?

Your giggles were cut short as he placed his hands on either side of you, on the counter. He had you trapped.

“That’s quite an excuse, sir. But really, we shouldn’t,”

“Oh yeah? What’s a better excuse then? The fact that I know you watch me longingly every time I walk in?” he smirked.

He caught you.

You blushed. And didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t lying; you indeed watched him every day. To be honest, it was the best part of your day; watching him march in with all his glory. His expensive suits, and even more expensive cologne. He was perfect.

But he was also much older than you, a gap of 15 years between the two of you. And you were a mere bartender who worked for him, so, you always believed you had no chance.

Until now, apparently.

You were flustered, and he saw it. He saw how you blushed and how you hesitated to answer. You squirmed in embarrassment, yet once his lips touched yours; you melted in his touch.

His mouth moved against yours perfectly, his tongue slipped into your mouth swiftly and you tasted the alcohol you had just served him minutes ago.

Your hand flew around his neck and your lazily caressed the back of his head. His hands were on you; one at your waist and one slipping discretely under the black skirt you were wearing.

You moaned as soon as your felt the coldness from his rings rub against your inner thighs. Was it the alcohol, or the connection between you two, but you felt a tingly sensation all over your body when he pushed your underwear aside and lazily rubbed your wet folds.

He muffled any sounds you made by placing his mouth on top of yours, tugging at your bottom lip and earning another quiet mewl out of you.

You whimpered when he teased your clit, rubbing your bundle of nerves with his finger; coating it and spreading around your arousal.

Grinding against his hand subtly, you tried to chase your orgasm as quickly as you could but he prevented you from doing so.

You whined as he stopped his actions.

“Oh no, babygirl, I want you to come around my cock,” he whispered sinfully in your ear and slipped his hand from under your skirt and turned you around so your back was pressed up against his torso.

You gripped the counter as he grabbed your skirt on either side and pulled it down until it pooled around your ankles.

You jumped when he pinched your ass. And the tingly sensation intensified as you heard the sound of him unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants.

You waited for his cock to bury itself into you, but what you felt against your dripping core was his skilled tongue.

Warm and wet against your heat; he ate you out from behind.

You shuddered and moaned out loud, his name escaping your lips like a mantra.

You felt his face pressed against your ass; his beard scratching your sensitive skin as he pulled your ass cheeks apart and latched his mouth onto your core.

His fingers lightly rubbed your clit as his tongue poked your tight entrance. Your eyes rolled back and your face lowered until your forehead touched the cold surface of the counter.

A quiet mewl escaped your lips as you heard the wet sounds which erupted from your unholy doings. You couldn’t see him, but you were sure he looked enticing with his plump, pink lips on your wet heat; you arousal dripping down his chin and coating his beard and lips as he devoured you.

There was a hunger in him, seen through his actions. And your face burned in embarrassment as you thought about how intimately he was touching you.

You whined as you felt the pressure building again.

Yet, as your moans got more and more high pitched, he lifted his mouth off you. He placed wet kissed on your lower back and lightly smacked your ass cheek.

Your body trembled. Your knees felt weak, and of it weren’t for the counter, you were sure you’d be a hot mess on the floor.

Anticipation burned bright in your gut and your core throbbed due to lack of attention from him.

“Tell me if I hurt you, babygirl. Don’t be too loud,” he whispered against the shell of your ear before placing his hand on your shoulder and urging you to bend over the counter.

Your heart raced as you did.

This was new for you. And it was exciting.

You felt his tip press against your folds, slowly rubbing up and down; parting the lips at your entrance. He moaned under his breath as he pushed himself slowly inside of you.

Your grip on the counter grew tighter as you steadied yourself for his thrust.

Slowly, he filled you up; stretching you and had you whimpering under him.

“F-fuck, you feel so good, doll,” his voice cracked as he moaned out how good you felt. And the fire inside you intensified.

You couldn’t form proper words as he started rocking into you. Slowly, then building up his pace.

You felt all of him; the raw him. And you shamelessly liked it.

Each time he filled you up entirely, the tip of his cock brushed against your most sensitive spot, and you moaned out loud each time he did so.

Your mind was hazy, by the bit of liquor in your system, and him slamming into you. His thrust was animalistic, and rough. Each time he slammed into you, your front crashed against the counter, achingly. But the pleasure his body brought you made up for that.

His hand flew to your hair and he grabbed a fistful of it, and pressed your face further into the counter. You whimpered as his pounded into your core. His pelvic bone smacking against your ass each time he did so.

The sounds of your skin slapping against one another was downright obscene, and the grunts leaving his mouth was even more sinful.

You couldn’t see him, yet you believed he looked absolutely divine with his head thrown back, eyes closed, his lips parted as occasional groans escaped his lips.

He must be quite the sight.

You moaned as he hit a sensitive spot, and he pinched your ass as you did. He seemed to be rather enjoying himself, toying with your body and using you however he liked. And not even a fiber of your body hated that – quite the contrary actually.

You felt a familiar warmth washing over you, and a pressure building in your lower region. You knew you couldn’t hold it any longer.

And when your walls clenched around him, Sebastian knew you were close as well.

“You gonna come for me, doll? Go ahead, come around my cock babygirl,” he cooed, his voice laced with lust and desire.

It didn’t take much for you to come undone after that. Gushing out around his cock, walls pulsating around him; you came, hard.

He did too. With a few strokes against your walls, he came right after you.

His warm load shooting inside you, leaving behind his presence as your body shook against the counter.

Carefully, he pulled out. And smiled sinisterly as he watched how his cum trickled out of you and past your folds. He adjusted his pants and zipped it up.

Satisfied, he pulled your underwear up, then your skirt, and finally; he pulled you up against him.

Your back was still against his torso, and his arms were around you. Unable to trust your own body, your hands gripped the counter still.

He nuzzled his face into your neck, kissed your skin and moved his lips to your ear.

“Thanks for the birthday present, doll,” he whispered teasingly in your ear. And you couldn’t help the blush, nor the smile which appeared on your face.

Let’s say, that night was quite unforgettable.

---

The next day, evening rather, you were back at work. With each step you took, each movement – you felt him.

You felt the soreness in between your legs, and the bruises on the sides of your hips where he had held you. The all the marks he left behind on your; as a reminder of his presence.

You sighed for the hundredth time that night and served your client anyway.

Each time you wiped the counter with the dark red cloth, you thought of him. How he had railed you against it, how he had pressed your face into it as he pounded into you from behind, and how he had whispered sinful things, and called you names which still made you dizzy when you think about it.

As if to tease you more, just as you thought of him; he walked in through the doors. Looking as expensive as always, Sebastian looked around.

But before his eyes met yours, you looked elsewhere.

How could you face him?

All the beautiful women who associated themselves with Sebastian earned titles. Not good ones either. Sebastian was quite a player, and stories of his promiscuity could be heard occasionally.

Spending a steamy night with the mob boss earned one a bad reputation. And now you did too. And although no one knew about it, you couldn’t help but feel as though you had been unprofessional �� given you had slept with your boss.

You tried to seem busy, as you picked up clean glasses, wiped them and placed them back to where they initially were.

“Something bothering you, little one? Hate seeing pretty girls like you sulking,” commented a man who was sat the counter.

That damned counter…

He looked like he was an important persona, and you couldn’t be rude.

As much as you wanted to flip him off and tell him to kindly stay out of your business, your job required you to smile even when you received vulgar comments. After all, you worked for The Sebastian Stan, any mistake or misbehavior on your part would result as a blemish on his image.

“I’m alright, sir. Nothing to worry about. Enjoy your evening,” you replied, fake smiling politely as you kept pretending as of you were busy.

Through your peripheral vision, you noticed that Sebastian stood still in the middle of his busy bar. People around you were rather loud, so you wondered if he heard any of the interaction between you and the man.

You didn’t want him to. You didn’t want him to come up to you, you couldn’t look at him. Was it shame, embarrassment, or the fact that you liked how he had fucked you like he owned you?

You didn’t know. All you knew is that you couldn’t look him in the eye.

“Probably would’ve enjoyed it better if you came home with me tonight. You’re a pretty thing, you know that? Girls like you don’t belong to places like these,” he spoke and sipped on his gin and tonic.

Good lord. Here we go again…

You opened your mouth to politely tell him off but before you could, another voice intervened.

“Careful there, Stark. I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Sebastian spoke, his voice smooth and almost melodic.

As soon as he spoke, you immediately thought of how he had been moaning while he was pounding into you the previous night.

And your head lowered as your face flushed again. You still couldn’t look at him.

The man named ‘Stark’ laughed and turned to face Sebastian, then you felt as though he looked at you again. Both their stared burning on your skin.

You felt exposed as your eyes flicked to that damned counter again.

“Why so? Is this one taken or something?” Stark spoke in a mocking voice; testing Sebastian’s patience.

Stark had a smug look on his face, which was quickly wiped off as soon as Sebastian spoke.

“She is. She’s mine,” his words caused you to finally look up at him. Stark was surprised, he scoffed and left.

Sebastian’s blue eyes sparkled as they looked into yours. A pleasant smirk on his gorgeous face as he looked at you intently.

Not a word was spoken, yet a promise was made.

Bad reputation or not, you had no problem with being his.

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palmett-hoes · 5 years ago

Note

Do you have any Jewish Neil hcs? I have some but a lot of them conflict with each other and I can’t make up my mind which I like best but I love hearing other people’s because they’re always better anyway.

aww no no no i wanna hear them!! message me @hoob-gooblin if u wanna (it's my main nd where i can answer messages from) (no pressure tho if u dont wanna)

and don't worry my hc's for jewish neil and his family history and stuff are all over the place too and changing all the time. i just stick to the one central tenant that that boy is jewish no matter what

also, i'm not actually jewish. it's a long and complicated family story but suffice to say, my dad is, i never was, and i've got some... feelings about that

so i kinda project my feelings of alienation from judaism onto neil and also use him as an excuse/motivation to learn about judaism and jewish history bc also i fuckin love? ethnographic research?

so first off all. very fun to read aftg as an exodus narrative. neil as moses. exy as religion. (this is straight up ridiculous i swear). nathan and mary as pharaoh and pharaoh's wife that keep him in the dark of his 'truth.' his time as a runaway as the flight from egypt. tfc/most of trk as canaan (kinship and self-discovery). taunting riko, protecting the foxes, killing nathan, negotiating with the moriyamas as the plagues/miracles (not to mention that the basement has a lot of 'death of the first born' energy, prevented with lamb's blood (neil's sacrifice of his life for the foxes) and the intervention of an angel (stuart)). defeating the ravens as crossing the red sea.

oh and this mf?

ABSOLUTELY one of my neil refs

so yea besides all that insanity

the parts of reading neil as jewish that really make me emotional is his status as a runaway. moving from place to place. being chased away over and over again. never having a home. always looking over his shoulder. the entire jewish disapora for thousands of years have just been a play on that again and again, of having to flee from someone trying to kill you. reading jewish history is so sad. i mean, spain, russia, britain, germany, north africa, the middle east, ethiopia just to name some of the biggest ones. it's a story of constant migration and the way that mirrors neil's own journey speaks to me very much

BUUUUT some actual headcanons

nathan was much more dismissive of religion and actively discouraged his wife from practicing openly and would punish neil for bringing it up. at times he would even 'play christian' by decorating for christmas for show.

to me both nathan and mary were jewish (bc i have this complex about not heaping more ideological weight on either of neil's parents so i pretty much mirror any identity-based-hc's on them)

mary would attend synagogue sometimes but only the services, she never stayed around or made any connections. sometimes she'd bring neil and he'd LOVE it because he never got to go out anywhere, ever.

i like to think that mary was always multilingual with neil, and is of some maghrebi jewish descent so has been speaking to him in french and hebrew his whole life when she could. he's only fluent in languages he lived in daily but hebrew is his most personal language because it was the one that was just between him and his mother

he primarily knows emotion words in hebrew 'i'm tired.' 'i'm scared.' 'i'm hurt.' it's his secrets language, the only one that wasn't about blending in.

neil's version of 'abram' for mary was 'ima'

they stayed in a number of algerian jewish communities when they lived in france, and tended to seek out synagogues when they needed food, but couldn't afford establishing a pattern that could be used to predict where they might go

he leaves one rock on the place where he buried his mother

anywhoodle less sad hc's

psu has a jewish center on campus. neil attends occasionally.

he talks to renee sometimes, about god. he doesn't really know if he believes but sometimes he needs something to be angry at

after he tells the foxes he's jewish he never has to celebrate christmas again. it's a relief for a million reasons

nicky, a baptist born and raised, doesn't really 'get' it but gets really enthusiastically into trying to celebrate 'neil's holidays' until neil tells him to tone it down. they do go out and find a purim festival every year tho

he never officially joins a congregation but does eventually have a bar mitzvah

neil has no taste buds and will eat gefilte fish

'can i be buried in a jewish cemetery? i mean, i HAD a tattoo, but then it got burned off with a cigarette lighter...' 'jesus christ, neil' 'whomst?'

one night, when they both have too much rage that needs to be released, andrew and neil go to an empty lot and smash glasses and bottles together, stomping on the shards. they leave holding hands

#here have a super long post #jewish neil #neil josten #txt #my posts #thank you tumblr for putting that picture 100% somewhere i did not put it #jewish neil josten

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afy2018 · 4 years ago

Text

A New Legend

Harsh wind swept through the air in loud gusts, kicking up clouds that rolled over the desert in a grainy fog. A human trudged alone through the cool air, a bag strapped across her chest and her face completely covered with goggles over her eyes. Her terrain coloured clothes whipped and flapped in the high winds. She stopped and tightened her belt for the fifth time that hour while her goggles got clouded over again. This planet was unforgiving but it was home for her, a decrepit haven for criminals and outcasts. No real names here, not even to trusted employers such as her own at the Tosche Station or Chalmun's Cantina. Sometimes she didn’t really even know her name. Better for her though, safety for an unlucky descendant of the Mandalorian Knight, Dorjander Kace.

Sara held her saber close to her heart, walking to Mos Eisley for work again. She came up to the residences on the outskirts of the town. Maybe she could get some food from Mick and Leo while she had time. They usually spent a lot of time in Mos Eisley, a secret home away from home for them. She wiped the sand from her goggles again as she neared the matmatas. She glanced at the house numbers, searching for the correct address before rapping on the wooden door marked 30. A large rugged man opened the door with a wide grin when he realized who was standing before him. He yanked her in by the collar.

“Where have you been?” Mick asked.

“Working,” she laughed, removing her goggles and mask.

“Luckily we don’t have to clean up after you,” Leo joked from the doorway. “Here for another refill?”

“And to catch up. I’m not that much of a freeloader,” Lance sighed pulling her hair back into a neat bun.

“You should really settle down, find a friend to share with while you’re working,” Mick suggested, searching for some older rations that had to go.

“Then I’d have to actually spend my money on food and shelter.”

“See, you really are a freeloader,” Snart confirmed with a side smirk. “So where are you coming from?”

“Jabba’s Palace.”

“Again?”

“He’s just needing someone to smuggle droid parts onto Tatooine from… Naboo, I think. I’ve just been going from here to his palace for the… fourth time. What have you been doing?”

“The usual. Stealing droids and fixing them before resell. Makes good money.”

“Here,” Mick cut in, holding a bag of food. “Some dewback jerky, hubba bread, and the rest of our womp rat soup -which I would eat first.” He nodded handing the bag to her.

“What would I do without you guys.”

“Get food from someone else, I would assume” Leo considered. “Now go on your merry little way, bother another bounty hunter.”

“Wait, come on, I haven’t seen you guys in months. How’s it going with Ray?”

“Great, really. Kind of weird,” he began.

“He means that he’s deep in love and doesn’t know how to act,” Mick explained with a playful nudge to the ribs.

“Okay, that’s enough. What about you and that guy. The rich boy?”

“Oliver? Nothing. I don’t see him. I moved on to this other girl, but she’s too busy with her family’s business to have any sort of relationship.”

“We should tell her,” Mick broke in.

His partner side-eyed him, “Why did you make it sound so ominous?”

“Tell me what?” Sara asked.

“There’s a large group of people who are getting together in secret trying to overthrow the Empire. You know, the Sith. They’ve been coming here to recruit as many people as they can. Apparently, there have been some older kids joining. We’ve been thinking of going as well.”

“I never would’ve thought that you’d be part of a rebellion.”

“I’m not usually serious, but life is only so long, Sara. We need to do something with it before we die. This is way bigger than us, bigger than everyone. It’s important,” Leo tried to convince her, crossing his arms and grabbing a medallion from his pocket. He glanced down at it and sighed before looking up at Sara. “Now, I know that you may not care, but by next month, Mick, Ray and I will be gone.”

“So this is goodbye?”

“Hopefully not, but maybe.”

Sara nodded and hugged Leo and Mick. “You guys have been like brothers to me. You saved me and brought me here. I’m so glad that I got to meet you two. Thank you.”

“I hope we see each other again, and that this isn’t really goodbye.”

Lance nodded and turned away. “I’ll think about it.”

“If you change your mind, they’re planning to come back by the end of the year.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “Well, I’m going to the cantina to get a drink, you wanna join?”

“Of course, but you’re buying.”

“My treat then.”

Music blared from the stage as the musicians in the corner livened up the dark room. Aliens of various races drank and talked at the bar, the table, or against the wall. People walked in and out, checking and stealing from one another as they passed by. It was shady and suspicious, but it was home for these people, she guessed. Maybe hold her belongings a bit closer. That’ll work, hopefully. The foreigner warily approached the bar, not that she really tried to fit in anyway. With her hair tied back in a tight bun, and in traditional garb to protect her skin. She rapped on the bar and waited for the bartender to turn around. He glanced at her, looking her up and down before nodding.

“Tatooine Sunset.”

He grunted in response and filled a glass with the sweet liquor. He slid it over to her, waiting for her to pay him before letting go of the glass.

“So what’s your name sweetie?” A young Rodian asked in his native tongue.

She smirked at the alien and chuckled “Yeah I’m too old for you, tyke.”

“Just tell me your name.”

“Ava.”

“Beautiful. I’m Greedo.”

“Well, Greedo, while I’d like to sit and chat, I don’t have a lot of time to… play,” she smiled. “Sorry.”

Greedo cocked his head to the side, turning away to a corner where a few other shady aliens sat. Ava watched him talk with his friends. She shook her head with a slight grin and went back to her drink. A hand roughly grabbed her shoulder and turned her around. The alien garbled at her in a foreign language that she couldn’t really comprehend. Ava turned back to her drink, finishing it in a swift tilt of the glass. A young humanoid alien tapped her on the shoulder.

“He doesn’t like you,” he explained.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized with a scoff.

He clutched her arm, yanking her back into the conversation. “I don’t like you either. Don't insult us,” he warned her, tightening his grip on her arm. “You just watch yourself. We're wanted men. I have a death sentence in twelve systems,” he bragged.

“I’ll be careful then,” she smirked in annoyance and turned away to end the conversation.

“You’ll be dead!” he hissed with a vicious grin.

Another human quickly walked between them. She pressed her hand against Ava’s shoulder to nudge her away. “This little one isn't worth the effort. Let me buy you something-”

The alien shoved the human into Ava and whipped out his blaster. Ava reached for the lightsaber at her hip. The blonde looked at her and put her hand over the weapon.

“You can’t use that here,” she warned her.

“No blasters! No blasters!” The bartender exclaimed.

The two aggressive aliens turned away and walked out of the bar. Ava turned to the blonde and smiled.

“Thank you.”

“It was nothing. You’re not the only tourist I’ve had to save. Tatooinians don’t really like… us. In fact, most people don’t trust us or anyone who wields a weapon such as yours. You have to be very careful,” she explained in a hushed tone. “So obviously you’re not from here. Where are you from?”

“Nowhere you know.”

“Try me.”

“Is that common here, bar fights?” Ava asked switching subjects.

“Of course. You’re most definitely not from here. Tatooine is a very shady place. People are always fighting. Honestly, I’d be suspicious if an hour went by without a fight,” Sara smiled. “Well, hey, if you’re not too busy, my friends and I are having a quick drink. Wanna join?”

“... Why not,” Ava nodded.

“Great,” Sara smiled, sliding back over to her friends. “This is Leo, Mick, and I’m Sara.”

“Hi, Ava,” she greeted them.

Leo smiled and drank from his tall glass, leaning against the bar. “So what brings you to Tatooine? Obviously not the weather or people.”

“Just a new adventure.”

“Well, you must live on the wild side then if this feels like an adventure and not just a death sentence.”

“Don’t mind his sarcasm, here, have this,” Sara offered, sliding her drink to Ava.

“What is this?”

“Bantha Blaster” she smiled.

“What does it taste like?”

“Sweet and fizzy,” Leo explained. “They drink it all the time.”

“I swear by it,” Lance grinned, leaning towards Ava as she ordered another drink.

Ava sniffed the drink; Endor, she thought, it reminded her of Endor. She inhaled and took a swig from the pink and green liquor. The bubbly concoction fizzed and popped on her tongue before a very sweet sugary sensation coated her taste buds. It burned at first, but then warmed her throat and became tart at the end. Ava coughed at first, and chuckled, shaking her head.

“A little strong?” Sara asked.

“Yeah, but good. It’s a very fun drink.” Ava smiled, covering her mouth. “So you’re from this area?”

“Not really. I’ve spent the past six years here, but I’m originally from a different planet.”

Leo leaned over to Sara, whispering to her. “You know, it’s great to see you head over heels. I haven’t seen you reveal this much since we met.”

“What are you talking about?”

He pulled back, turning to Mick. “I think we should go back home. We need to get packed.”

“Leo,” Sara called.

“I know, but we must go. See you ‘round, little canary,” he teased on his way out of the cantina.

“Mick!”

“Gotta go.”

Sara huffed as she watched her friends leave, shaking her head and downing the Bantha Brew. Ava also finished her drink and cleared her throat.

“Well, I’m glad that we had this time to talk. Sorry for driving your friends away-”

“Huh? Don’t worry about them, Leo’s just weird like that. You know, I can always show you around Mos Eisley if you have time.”

“Yeah, why not.”

After they escaped the cantina, Sara pulled off to an alley to her guest’s concern. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to out you for having that,” she gestured to her saber. So, how did you get your hands on such archaic tech?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You can’t hide it from me, I literally saw you almost whip that thing out in a Post-Empire Tatooine. This is their playground. Did you at least bring a blaster?”

“Yes, I guess it’s just a force of habit.”

“Was that a pun?”

“Huh, oh Force, ha, no,” she chuckled.

“You’re an intriguing sort, Aves, but you’ll be dead in ten minutes with that thing strapped to you.”

“Well, no offense, but I’m not going to hand this over to you.”

“I understand, just try not to reach for it unless you’re in deep trouble.”

“Now for that tour, you promised me?”

“Oh yeah, of course. Follow me.”

Hours seemed to pass in minutes to Ava, she had never met anyone like her. There was something about her, the mysterious way that she knew everyone and yet they never revealed her true name. Sara wasn’t offended by it and only laughed, responding with a variety of sarcastic phrases. She felt the end of this journey with her new companion nearing as the suns set, finally cooling the air again. Ava sat on the edge of a short wall dividing a stretch of road that was secluded from the main streets while Sara watched the citizens pass them by. The few people who did pass by seemed focused on other things like surviving or thriving in this city.

“You know, I really don’t know much about you, Little Canary,” Ava admitted.

Sara sat down next to her, shrugging, and looked her in the eye. “No need to. We don’t need to know everything to respect one another, just enough to understand.”

Sara turned to her and pursed her lips. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head before she fell to the ground. Ava rushed to her before feeling electricity stun her. Her body tensed as she dropped to the sandy ground. A pair of feet approached her before reaching down and pulling her up by the collar. A pair of pink eyes glared at her, their smile revealed a set of sharp teeth behind thin lips. It sighed and whispered something to someone behind them.

~~~~~~~~~~

It was dark - Lance thought as she woke up - pitch-black and empty. She heard the sound of shuffling feet nearby. Sara shifted to her knees, focusing the Force to her sight. It felt nearly impossible, years had passed, repressing her powers to stay alive, but in a moment like this, anything was game. She looked around the room, flickering between her force sight and the darkness that suffocated her. She spotted someone with her, crawling to the wall to get up. Their heart pounded in fear and familiar clanking meant that they were sporting a pair of handcuffs. Sara carefully got to her feet and neared them. She held out her hands, reaching for the other prisoner before making contact and clutching on to their shoulder.

“Who are you?” she whispered. “Ava?”

“Sharpe,” they responded. “I’m Ava Sharpe.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Good,” Sara nodded, her response more of a note to herself than to be comforting to Ava. She sat beside her, “Why do I recognize that name?”

“I’ve probably shown up for a bounty a few times.”

“That’s it! Wait, why? You seem like the kind of person who’d follow the rules to the T.”

“A prude?”

“... Kinda… yeah.”

“Most people say that,” Sharpe sighed. Gripping Sara’s hand, she continued, “I’m- I was- a guard for those who remained of the Jedi Order.”

“What’d you do?”

“I… abandoned my post and may have been spotted by the Empire. I’ve been trying to hide for a year now. Do you know where we are?”

“No, I can’t see a damn thing.”

“The last thing I saw was a scary looking guy. It had pink eyes and… waxy skin. There was this tentacle thing wrapped around his neck. He looked like a demon,” she almost shivered.

“What about his teeth?”

“Sharp, almost like a monster.”

“I think I know who it was. And with that, welcome to Jabba’s Palace,” Sara sighed.

Light began to flood from the ceiling. Sara shielded her eyes from the brightness and took a step in front of Ava. Once the pit was fully open, Sara looked up, meeting the smirk of Bib and Jabba as well as the prying eyes of other bounty hunters and guests.

She chuckled and shook her head, “Hey, Jabba! How ya doin’ buddy?”

“Lance, sa i fun gee cheekta down ya?” The Hutt asked with a bellowing laugh.

“He does remember my name,” Sara shrugged.

“Who is that?” Ava asked.

“That is Jabba the Hutt, these are his goons, and this is his pit.”

“His pit?”

“Greedo has doe bounty che cheekta.”

“Well, I found her fair and square, Greeds, I think she’s technically mine,” Sara charmed to no avail.

“You stole her!” he yelled down into the pit.

“Okay, fine, I’ll back off. Just give me a moment” Sara sighed, turning to Ava. “A moment, to meld.”

“Me-”

Sara swiftly grabbed Ava’s jaw in her hands and kissed her.

‘Ava, focus.’ A voice echoed in her head. ‘A monster will come out. We have our sabers, we can take it down.’

Sara pulled away, nodding to Ava. She twisted on her heels and shrugged to Jabba.

“Now what? You gonna help me out?”

Jabba let out another bellowing chortle and tapped Bib on the shoulder. The pale alien smiled and went out of view. A gate behind them raised with a deafening creak. Ava reached for Sara’s hand, grabbing her saber with the other. She switched it on, the two golden blades whirring and burning the dusty air. Sara let go of Ava’s hand and grabbed her double-sided saber and disconnected them before turning them on, a thin orange blade coming out of the one side and a blood red blade out of the other.

“What, did you steal those?” Ava asked as the monster stepped out.

“Only if illegal mining is stealing.”

“Practically the definition,” she joked with a side glance at her guide.

Sara got into a ready stance, a slightly familiar surge of focused adrenaline running in her blood. She felt her breathing slow and her sensitivity heighten, feeling the beast’s heartbeat pounding in her chest. A oneness with her ally who road the same aura as her. Ava whirled her staff in a neon blur, a flourish to intimidate as they stared down their opponent.

The monster roared and shook its head, the rolls of skin shifting and stretching with spikes poking through while its muscles flexed in anticipation.

Sara sprinted up to the monster, sliding under at the last moment to slice its leg. Ava pulled the beast close and held out her saber like a spear to stab it. It screamed and slapped her away, sending her across the pit and flat into a wall.

Lance slipped behind it, running up the wall and using the solid dirt to leap onto its back. She stuck her blade surely through the spine and slid down, red blood leaking and coagulating around the wound.

The beast shrieked again, collapsing to the ground and pawing at its assailants. Sara walked up to the face and forced her saber through their eye, watching it scream and writhe on the ground. Its final breath caught in the back of their throat.

“New record?!” she called up to Jabba, but the gawking group of hedonists was gone. Sara growled and ran to Ava, turning off the sabers and attaching them before holstering it and kneeling down to her. Although she wasn’t bleeding, she was still probably injured. “Ava, you okay?”

“Yeah,” she groaned while struggled she to sit up. Ava took her hand and stood up, leaning against Sara.

“Let’s get out of here,” Sara suggested and earned an exhausted nod.

They walked through the gate, a dark corridor greeting them until it suddenly lit up, leading a way to the stables. They could hear the distant calls of captive animals.

Ava straightened her back but continued to lean against Sara. “Why’d you kiss me?” she inquired. “Melding doesn’t even require touch.”

“I just… I thought…”

“I don’t mind, just wanted to know why.”

“Oh… it just felt right.”

“It felt right?”

“Look, I’m sorry if that’s not how you go, I just needed anything to get you off your mark.”

“I never said I didn't like it.”

“Well, it was implied.”

Ava grabbed Sara’s collar and pulled her close, kissing her gently. She slid her hand up her throat, tucking her fingers behind her ear before finishing their moment with a peck on the cheek.

“What was implied there?” Ava asked.

“That you are very interested,” she blushed, biting her lip. “We should go, come on.”

She took Ava’s hand and rushed down the long hallway to the open desert. Sharpe tugged on her shirt and pointed to a landspeeder.

“Quicker transport.”

“We may have gotten stuck here because of you, but I’m so glad we met,” Sara prodded while they sprinted to the vehicle.

“Did I at least make your day a bit more exciting?” Ava asked, limping behind Sara with a hand pressed against her ribs.

“Oh yes.”

Sara opened up the hatch, trying to hotwire the speeder as Ava climbed in. Grunting quickly filled the halls as twenty gamorreans ran down the hallway.

“Um, would you mind hurrying up, Sara?”

“Really, what seems to be the problem?” she sarcastically jibed.

“The guards.”

“I know,” Sara sighed, sitting up.

“What are you doing? Keep working!”

“It’s done.”

“Drive, they’re getting into some speeders.”

“Shit,” Sara cursed, starting up their land speeder.

“Go!”

“I know!” Sara yelled, speeding off. She grabbed her blaster and shoved it into Ava’s chest. “Take aim.”

Sharpe huffed and aimed the gun on the back of her headrest, shooting at a guard and knocking him off the bike. She aimed at another, getting the gas tank and watching it slow down and leak out in the sand. Ava pointed her blaster at another bike closing in on them. The guard shot at their speeder, catching the headrest, barely missing Ava’s shoulder. Ava force pushed the bike away, making it tumble away in the sand and blow up. She sat back down in her seat and regarded the dry terrain.

“Where are we going?”

“Mos Eisley, we need to meet up with Mick and Leo.”

“Why?”

“They’re leaving soon. So, I was thinking that maybe we can bum a ride.”

“Well, where are they going?”

“They’re joining the Rebel Alliance.”

“I’ve heard of them. Wait, they work closely with the Jedi.”

“Then we’ll protect you,” Sara promised, looking into Ava’s dark eyes. “I promise. You’re one of us now.”

“What do you think of the cause?”

“I’m game for anything that means I can escape this place. I’m past this point in my life.”

Sara brought her hand under Ava’s chin and pulled her in for a brief kiss before focusing back on the road.

“We pledge out property, our honor, and our lives.”

“Long live the Rebels.”

#legends of tomorrow #legends of tomorrow fanfic #Avalance #Ava Sharpe #Sara Lance #Lgbt #Fanfic #femslash #wlw #sfw #sfw fanfic #Jedi #grey jedi #gray jedi #star wars #starwars #au #star wars au

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cyncity2000 · 5 years ago

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73 questions tag! tysm @goodlesson , can’t say i’ve ever had anything like this before but hey it’s not like I have anything better to do rn 😅

answers under the cut! i tag @rene-royale @teenager-confused-tired @sawafilmtoday @onedoesnotsimplystormthebastille if you feel like it, but no pressure bc this is a LOT and took me a couple days to finish lol

on a scale of 1-10, how excited are you about life right now? um. could be worse, could be better?? so 5.

describe yourself in a hashtag? no. twitter and all its shitty hashtags can go to hell.

if you could do a love scene with anyone, who would it be? weird question. nobody?? i wouldn’t want to??

if your life was a musical, what would the marquee say? not to be all dan smith on main but like...’come to this please’

what’s one thing people don’t know about you? uhhhh idk. i’m very open about most aspects of my personality i’d say

what’s your wake up ritual? stay in bed as long as possible and then YEET at maximum speed so i don’t waste the day

what’s your go to bed ritual? tell myself i should go to bed. pick up my phone instead. regret it in the morning.

what’s your favorite time of day? 2pm or 9-10pm

your go to for having a good laugh? macdoesit or drawfee videos on youtube. truly the best.

dream country to visit? i wanna go back to england and france, also i’d love to visit literally anywhere i could

what’s the biggest surprise you’ve ever had? falling in love with my college roommate probably,, didn’t see THAT coming

heels or flats/sneakers? bitch i’m 5′10″ with size 12.5 feet. converse.

vintage or new? vintage looks cool. i am not cool. so new.

who do you want to write your obituary? idk man i don’t wanna think about that now???

style icon? if you knew me irl you’d know style is not a word in my vocabulary

what are three things you cannot live without? my cat, my friends/gf, and my cd collection

what’s one ingredient you put in everything? i do not bake or cook, the real world is going to kill me immediately

what 3 people living or dead would you want to make dinner for? i’d be too stressed to make food for people but i’d love to like. go OUT for dinner with...dodie, dallon weekes, and pj liguori. they’re all just cool people i follow and i wanna know what they’re LIKE.

what’s your biggest fear in life? failure due to lack of confidence, motivation and direction in life :)))

window or aisle seat? i’d say window but i am long boi so aisle is usually nicer unless i trip someone by accident

what’s your current tv obsession? still supernatural, also brooklyn 99

favorite app? tumblr :D

secret talent? despite my crippling procrastination issues i’ve almost always been a straight-A student 🤷‍♀️

most adventurous thing you’ve ever done in your life? drove myself two hours to a concert in february, or maybe the time i did a really hard ropes course or went to the badlands?

how would you define yourself in three words? introverted, distracted, nerdy

favorite piece of clothing you own? maybe my waterparks sweatshirt bc i had a dream last night that i donated it and then went back to the store to buy it back lmao so subconsciously i must really like it

a must have clothing item that everyone should have? you gotta have that one pair of black jeans that goes with anything imo

a superpower you would want? flying. it’s the only recurring dream i’ve ever had and it’s my only answer ever

what’s inspiring you in life right now? all the people doing big or little things to help. the ones doing instagram lives or sending money or supplies to people in need or just giving me more faith in humanity

best piece of advice you’ve received? can’t remember any. why doesn’t anyone give me good advice

best advice you’d give your teenage self? do your laundry on time. don’t wear...whatever that was to school. just wash ur fuckin clothes. also don’t let it bother you that you’re single the whole time. you’ll get there.

a book everyone should read? they both die at the end by adam silvera. you WILL cry. but you will love it.

what would you like to be remembered for? i have no idea. being a non-shitty person at least.

how do you define beauty? happiness.

what do you love most about your body? idk being tall is kinda nice

best way to take a rest/decompress? get a blanket. comfy clothes. my cat. put headphones on. put some music on or watch youtube.

favorite place to view art? on tumblr and instagram! i follow soo many wonderful artists it’s great

if your life was a song, what would the title be? Oh No (What Is She Doing Now?)

if you could master one instrument, what would it be? piano or guitar. i suck at both and if i could be good at ONE i’d be happy

if you had a tattoo, where would it be? been thinking about this tbh. somewhere on my arm definitely but idk where D:

dolphins or koalas? dolphins!!

what’s your spirit animal? a cat?

best gift you’ve ever received? for christmas my sister bought me a cute lil box meant for displaying concert tickets and it was the most thoughtful thing ever. also the AMAZING studio headphones i’m currently using that my mom got me like three years ago for christmas

best gift you’ve given? probably when i bought me and my best friend tickets to see the Sherlock S4 finale in a movie theater

what’s your favorite board game? cards against humanity, one night ultimate werewolf/alien, settlers of catan

what’s your favorite color? porpleee 💜

least favorite color? hmm they’re all valid except for like. puke green.

diamond or pearls? neither lol

drugstore makeup or designer? neither 😜

blow-dry or air-dry? blow-dry but i never do bc it takes y e a r s

pilates or yoga? yoga!

coffee or tea? both but only hot tea or frozen coffee

what’s the weirdest word in the english language? thanks to tumblr the word ‘defenestrate’ has entered my vocabulary and I do not regret it

dark chocolate or milk chocolate? either. chocolate is chocolate 🍫

stairs or elevators? tbh stairs, i’m just a lazy bitch

summer or winter? winter. cold > hot

you are stuck on an island, you can pick one food to eat forever without getting tired of it, what would you eat? i’d still get tired of it :( i need that variety!!

a dessert you don’t like? none. dessert is dessert and it is all valid if i can eat it

a skill you’re working on mastering? writing, working from home, playing the guitar

best thing to happen to you today? currently watching mike gross play old brobecks tunes :’) he also just saw my comment yay

worst thing to happen to you today? i had cheesecake for lunch. sounds good but it’s the only thing i’ve had today besides a piece of chocolate and my body is Not Happy

best compliment you’ve ever received? someone on fanfiction dot net once left me a comment saying they’d almost cried at my story and called me “a true writer” and it’s honestly one of the only thing that keeps me writing...i’m still mad they weren’t signed in so I’ll never be able to thank them for it.

favorite smell? lemon, cookies, fresh-cut grass

hugs or kisses? hugs!!

if you made a documentary, would it be about? somethin gay probably

last piece of content you consumed that made you cry? honestly...probably “who the fuck is keith” fjadskljfd

lipstick or lipgloss? like peyton said chapstick is the only valid answer

sweet or savory? depends how i’m feelin, love both

girl crush? besides the obvious one (my girlfriend), honestly not many? there’s this one girl i follow on insta who’s big in the panic! fandom and jESUS SHE’S SO PRETTY. also the girl who plays kaia in supernatural is CUUUTE

how do you know you’re in love? has only happened to me once but for me...i already loved her platonically for months and then suddenly one day i was like oh. why am i getting the urge to kiss you rn. oh no.

a song you can listen to on repeat? anything by idkhow or bastille. never gets old.

if you could switch lives with someone for a day, who would it be? not to copy peyton but i would love to know what goes on inside my cat’s head

what are you most excited for about this time in your life? next semester of college!! i got into a super-competitive dorm and i’m gonna have my own room and live with nine other people and gahh i’m just so excited to be chaotic with all my friends again and meet new people :’)

#tag games #this was fun!!#many interesting q's here

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prof-zimbrane · 5 years ago

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The Face of Love

Summary: They’ve done almost all the dating cliches in existence, they’ve been in an established relationship for a while now but there are still secrets between them. Secrets pertaining to a certain someone’s true appearance. Zim loves Professor Membrane and he’s sure that the feelings are mutual but should he risk it?

Word Count: 7443

AO3 link

Yo, here’s a Zimbrane fic for the upcoming Halloween. It’s got body horror?? I guess so read with caution. It’s nothing too bad. Believe me, I bet it’s something you won’t expect ;)

It’s my first fanfic?? ever I guess so please be gentle and if possible, give me feedback on how I can improve cuz I love this pairing and I wanna write more for them ;-;

Zim’s current love-slave has everything Zim ever wants in a partner. Professor Membrane is brilliant, tall, good with weapons, and has caused Dib more anguish and doubt than Zim could ever cause.

Zim knows and has seen what Professor Membrane can accomplish. Combined, they’d be the greatest gift to the universe in all its existence. But there is this… oddity to their relationship.

Most couples would’ve already known how the other really looked like, appearance wise (actual personalities are sometimes never revealed), at their current stage. Yet somehow, Zim has never seen his partner’s face.

Sure Zim hides his appearance, but unlike Professor Membrane, Zim is pretty sure he has a lot more to lose, given his “foreign” heritage and occupation as an invader and all.

But Professor Membrane must be human, right? Whatever horrible thing he’s hiding under his lab coat and goggles couldn’t be the worst Zim has ever seen. Zim isn’t superficial enough to stop loving someone based on their appearance, height notwithstanding, hell humans are already ugly enough to Zim yet he still decided to pursue the scientist.

Maybe Professor Membrane was scarred or disfigured? Or maybe he’s so horrifyingly ugly according to “human” standards that he has to hide it. Dib does have a rather large head after all and Gretchen’s the only one Zim knows (has been told) that seems to like Dib.

There’s nothing wrong with asking things from your partner. In fact, it would only be fair for Zim’s burning curiosity to be satisfied. If Zim wants to find out how Professor Membrane looks like, then he will find it out. He is Zim, nothing is out of the question. But is he ready for it?

He could leave things as they are and continue like normal, or he could confront Professor Membrane and find out what’s hidden underneath. But would it be too soon? They’ve done all sorts of couply things together already, according to Zim’s “dating humans” guide list he devised when learning about human affection that one dreadful time with Tiq? Taco? T something, he still misses his robot bee, Robbee never even completed his first mission, but that’s irrelevant now.

They’ve gone to an expensive eating establishment (Zim paid with Earth monies but those monies were outdated cents and quarters), they’ve watched the sun set and looked at the stars (one of Zim’s favourite moments), they’ve watched horror movies in the cinema (they were more horrified by the actions of the teens surrounding them though), and they even did a “Netflix & Chilli” (Zim still believes that the alien Jim is a loser for losing his leaders to a space anomaly).

They’ve even passed through several stages of physical affection. It started out with staring, then casual pats, they’ve even skipped straight to hugging before hand holding. They haven’t begun eating each other’s faces yet but Zim still finds it repulsive and another factor in the brutishness of stinky human courtship rituals.

Today was one of their date nights. Their plans only included dinner at Zim’s base. Though, Zim hopes that Professor Membrane will acknowledge his amazement at Zim’s awesome cooking skills and be willing to show his face once and for all.

---------------------

Dinner went off splendidly. Although the turkey had an unfortunate extra ingredient added to it, in the form of a dysfunctional, hyperactive robot. Professor Membrane thankfully thought of it as a pleasant surprise, meant to showcase Zim’s brilliance.

But now comes the hard part. Zim has to convince the Professor to stay for a while longer. He can do this.

Zim mustered up all his courage and held Professor Membrane’s hand as he was about to say his goodbyes.

“Wait! Stay a bit longer! I still have much to do with you!” Zim looks desperately into Professor Membrane’s shiny goggles, he HAS to find out what was underneath or else he’ll be restless for the entirety of their relationship, which would definitely affect his plans.

“What? We didn’t plan anything else for tonight though. Dib and Gaz should be fine but this is rather sudden.” Professor Membrane looks at their clasped hands and Zim’s hopeful expression.

“What is it that you want exactly? Are we going to your lab again?” He questioned.

He’s been helping Zim out with his inventions, spending a lot of hours just tinkering together in harmony. Science has always been a delight to do but with Zim, it feels like he’s experiencing it for the first time ever. He’s regained some of his wonder and childish curiosity with Zim’s input and feedback.

Anxiety was visible through Zim’s body language. He was hunched over, his eyes hurriedly shifting from left to right and back. He exhaled.

“I want to progress our relationship to the next stage,” Zim admits, “it’s just that, all we’ve done so far is hold hands and cuddle. Not that I hate it! If you ever stop then I will go to your house at night and replace your roboarms with bamboo skewers!”

Zim lets go to cross his arms and glare.

“Well, it is true that we’ve been taking it slow. I could say that part of it is my fault for being unfamiliar with this... relationship thing.” Professor Membrane muses. Is Zim dissatisfied with what they currently have?

“I’m sorry Zim, am I going too slowly for you?” he asked.

“No not at all! You satisfy me plenty. I admit that I’m also new to what we’re doing right now.” Zim quickly denied.

Professor Membrane feels relief. As a scientist, he can deal with all sorts of fields but relationships were harder to understand.

“That’s good, I treasure you and our love together. I don’t usually get to have a lab partner who’s not an employee of mine.” He confesses. He’s grown too attached.

“Great! As for the reason I am keeping you here for,” Zim paused.

He was in the right to ask for things. He shouldn’t feel worried.

“I’m demanding that you show your face to me.” Zim said resolutely. He looked expectedly at his human.

Professor Membrane felt panic. He should’ve expected it. He didn’t think it would be now though.

“My face? There’s nothing to see! It looks quite boring underneath.” He tried to play it off.

Zim looks dejected and hurt. Professor Membrane ignored him, that hurt.

“But I don’t even know what you look like. I don’t know the colour of your eyes or the shape of your face or even if you have weird lips. How can I be sure that you’re not a new person every time we meet? Are you even the original Membrane that I confessed to? You’re not another weird clone right?” Zim accused. Starting a chain of repeated lines.

“I’m not…” Professor Membrane answered.

“Are you?”

“I’m not…”

“Are you?!”

“I’m not...”

“Are you?!!”

He had enough. While he may love Zim, he doesn’t enjoy this continuous back and forth, even if it is somewhat cute.

“ZIM!” he shouted, “I swear by my 24 degrees that I’m not a clone. I’m the only original Professor Membrane in this reality.”

“Then why are you hiding your face from me? Don’t worry! I don’t mind if you look hideous. Just show me your trust.” He tried to look harmless but inside, Zim is worried that he’s asking for too much. Something is telling him to trust Professor Membrane in return.

Professor Membrane remained silent for a while. He’s debating internally over whether he should show Zim his face.

But eventually he relented to Zim’s request.

“Alright, I’ll show you but do you have somewhere else where we could do this? Your kitchen-lavatory room is not what I have in mind for sharing personal secrets”

They looked around. Gir, still in the turkey, was taking care of his many pig friends. The camera Dib installed is still visibly there, recording their conversation. Zim should remind the Computer to disable it or have it record a non-stop footage of Floopsy Bloops Schmoopsy.

“Urghh, I guess it’s fine.” Zim groans out. “Join me in my basement.”

He leads Professor Membrane by the hands through a closet that goes underground. It was different from the other places of Zim’s underground level. Here is where he kept his more Earth friendly technology.

It looks somewhat similar to Professor Membrane’s own lab in his basement, except with what appears to be a waiting area, with a sofa, a soda vending machine and a receptionist desk. But the only life there were bundled in the cobwebs of the receptionist’s chair. The receptionist is apparently out for smoke break.

They settled on the comfortable purple sofa. Anticipation was in the air.

“Well? Show Zim the goods!” Zim holds out his arms in a ‘gimme’ gesture. He can’t wait to see what all the fuss is about.

Professor Membrane takes off his goggles first to reveal his eyes. His fingers then undid the upper half of his lab coat to reveal the bottom half of his face. Underneath his lab coat he wore a tight, black turtle neck.

It’s not what Zim expected. He was shocked. His previous expectations were crushed like humans should be underneath his boot.

There’s nothing wrong. Professor Membrane’s face looks like any other humans. If Zim were human, he’d even consider Professor Membrane’s face to be ridiculously good-looking, even by celebrity standards. But Zim wasn’t a human so, to him Professor Membrane’s face was as ugly as all the rest of the human species.

Even Professor Membrane’s eyes are nothing extraordinary, except for the glowing blue light that the irises emit and the pupils that expanded and contracted like camera shutters.

Zim actually found himself feeling slightly disappointment, since there was nothing special to look at.

“Is that all you have hidden there? Why even bother wearing your coat and goggles so conservatively?” Zim says annoyingly.

“That’s just my fashion sense.” Professor Membrane says chipperly.

He laughed disconcertingly, a drawn out “Ha ha ha,” as if he were watching a comedian embarrass himself instead of delivering actual jokes.

He’s trying to placate Zim. Professor Membrane was acting strange. His lips seem to be delayed by a couple of nanoseconds when he speaks. If it weren’t for the many modifications Irkens had to endure, Zim never would have noticed.

“Your eyes are different though. They’re not brown like the eyes of the Dib-beast or the little Gaz-monster.” Zim is judging Professor Membrane.

Zim’s nicknames for his kids were odd but somehow, they sounded charming to the Professor.

“I had them replaced when my vision was failing, you know how humans are with all the limitations of biology.” He hand waved his difference away. Zim is still not satisfied.

“Let me see them closer.”

Zim leaned on Professor Membrane. He’s holding Professor Membrane’s face in his palms as he stared deep into his human’s eyes. Zim always thought that human eyes were freaky, with their milky white sclera. But Professor Membrane’s eyes were pretty. He had long lashes and the electric blue glow they emitted reminded Zim of Tallest Miyuki’s calm gaze that captivated the hearts of her people.

Zim observed the rest of his face, Professor Membrane’s nose looked regal and fit him perfectly. Zim also notes that his features were perfectly symmetrical, another contributing factor in human attractiveness, although this time it also extended to Irken beauty standards. Finally, there was something both races had in common.

Before he realized it, his gaze then went down to the scientist’s lips. They looked soft and had a perfect curve to them. But they were pressed tight, stiff and unmoving.

He was removed out of his stupor when Professor Membrane uttered a word, Zim’s name, from his perfectly shaped lips. Such perfection was otherworldly, it shouldn’t exist. There weren’t any blemishes or other hideous imperfections on his skin either.

“Zim? Zim! While I do find your attention flattering, don’t you think you’re too close?” Professor Membrane said in a hitched voice.

Professor Membrane’s eyes revealed his current emotions more than the rest of his face. Despite the nervous tone, his face remained stoic, his wide-blown, erratic pupils betrayed him instead.

Zim hadn’t realized, but he’s moved so close that he was kneeling on top of Professor Membrane. They’ve cuddled before, it’s true, but never this close, and never face-to-face with Professor Membrane’s exposed, hypnotic eyes.

It was the first time Zim didn’t feel revulsion at seeing a human. His past self would’ve spitted at him and called him a filthy xenophile for feeling whatever this is. But Zim putting himself before his empire was nothing new, although it still hurt him to acknowledge it.

“You’re actually not too hideous. I am pleased.” Zim tried to sound dismissive, but it’s clear that he is affected by his lover’s appearance.

“I’m glad my face pleases you then, my celestial lover.” Professor Membrane said warmly.

His expression was light. A smile graced his lips. That made something flutter in Zim’s innards.

But he began feeling another rare feeling, guilt. What is it with all these feelings now?? Zim is too great to be bothered by that. Yet, should he reveal his actual face? Would he be dissected or worse vivisected if he did? He doesn’t want to live out the rest of his life stuck in a tube. His partner was related to Dib after all and his passion for science is, at times, obsessive.

Zim was distracted from his worries by a sudden pressure on his lips. They were soft. His love was kissing him. That was Zim’s first kiss. Not just Zim’s first kiss on the lips but first kiss in general, and it had to be lip-to-lip.

Before he could respond to Professor Membrane’s actions, the Professor drew back with a sheepish expression.

“I’m sorry Zim, I didn’t mean to kiss you like that.” He mumbled.

Professor Membrane’s arms, which were previously stuck to his side, lifted to caress Zim’s head.

“I couldn’t help myself, you’re really cute Zim. Was it too soon?” He asked.

“No it’s fine. I liked it. I liked it a lot.” Zim felt dizzy. He was embarrassed to admit it to himself, but it was the truth.

“There won’t be any cannibalism though right?” asked Zim. Worry appeared on his face again but more exaggerated than before.

“What if there was, what if I admit that I want to eat you up?” Professor Membrane said teasingly. He’s amused by his love’s thinking.

“If anyone does the eating it would be Zim!” he exclaimed. “My love-pig is no match for my razor sharp teeth.”

Zim shows off his pink, zipper teeth. Another odd thing about Zim that captivates the curious mind of the Professor.

“Perhaps, we should test it out with a little experiment?” Professor Membrane’s eyes sparkled with mischief.

“What kind of experiment?” Zim questioned.

“An experiment where we find out who’ll consume the other first.” He challenged Zim.

“It will definitely be me.” Zim grinned, showing off his teeth again.

This time, it was Zim who acted first. He pressed his lips tight against his human’s. Zim’s antenna tingled underneath his wig, if he hadn’t stuck it tightly with adhesives before, they would’ve sprung free from their confinement, he’s learnt his lessons during Earth’s many challenges.

Professor Membrane held Zim tighter towards his body. As if he never wants to let go, as if he’s afraid of losing Zim.

Zim’s hands were still occupied with exploring every inch of Professor Membrane’s face. He wants to burn his love's features into his hands, forever imprinting their impressions into his memory.

But, during Zim’s explorations, he began noticing a long depression near the outer reaches of Professor Membrane’s face. It wouldn’t have been noticeable, if Zim hadn’t been an Irken. Irkens had really sensitive skin, that’s why they cover themselves up so much.

He paused his kissing to get a better feel for Professor Membrane’s face. The depression circled the outer cheeks, over the eyebrows and seemingly ended between Professor Membrane’s upper and lower lip on both sides.

“My love? What are you doing?” Professor Membrane stuttered out. Yet, Zim’s previous observations about the stoicism of his features seemed sprung out more than ever.

“There is something you’re keeping from me. I can sense it beneath my fingers!” Zim accused Professor Membrane.

He stood up from his previous position to pace around the room, never taking his eyes of his lover. Zim moved like an interrogator in a prison. He won’t stand any lies.

If Professor Membrane could emote more, he’d have despair written all over his face. His right hand began covering the bottom part of face, in a nervous gesture.

“Zim, my love, there’s nothing wrong. Come back to my arms. Whatever you felt must have been due to your unfamiliarity with my face.”

Still seated, he leans towards Zim with his arms spread out.

“Oh no! Don’t lie to me! I know what I’ve felt, I’ve seen how you move your lips. Why don’t you trust me?!” Zim recoils.

Zim’s never trusted anyone before but he expects trust from them. Zim has always believed himself to be a genuine person, sans his human disguise, and to have his character or actions questioned really pissed him off.

“You’re right Zim,” he relented “I am hiding something. I’ve only shown this to a few of the people I know, and it’s always ended in them disappearing. Not even Gaz or Dib have seen me without this.”

There’s something chilling about the way Professor Membrane says it. It was like Zim stepped on an old landmine, waiting to see if it’ll end in a disaster or not. He’s not sure about what Professor Membrane meant by disappearing but he doesn’t want to question it. As a part of the Irken Elite and as an Irken soldier, he can face anything.

“Don’t worry, whatever secrets you hold won’t be enough to scare me away. I love you, I’ve never loved anyone before.” Zim’s voice was soft, remarkably different from his usual screeching.

How many times has he said those words? Aside from his first sentence towards the only parental unit Zim ever knew, he’s only said it to Professor Membrane.

Again, Zim is doing something uncharacteristic. Was he trying to ease Professor Membrane’s discomfort with this entire thing? Trying to convince himself to be brave? Or was it just love that made Zim say that. Could a human really make Zim question himself that way? What kind of person is Professor Membrane to hold this much power over Zim’s heart.

“Please, don’t look away.” Professor Membrane pleaded.

He walked towards Zim, the height difference more noticeable now that they’re standing in front of each other. But that difference disappeared though, when Professor Membrane kneeled in front of Zim.

It was like one of those Earth movies that Zim watches, where one of the members of a couple kneel down to ask for a union. But instead of reaching into a pocket for a small rock, Professor Membrane reached for the sides of his face.

Slowly, he revealed what’s hidden underneath. Zim was right. Professor Membrane was disfigured. What he didn’t expect was the severity of the disfigurement.

In all of Zim’s time on Earth, with his countless research on human biology, he’s never sliced off anyone’s face. But even then, it wouldn’t have looked like Professor Membrane’s current features. His face was a prosthetic.

He has no face, no barrier protecting his passageways from the outside world. The only remaining parts of Professor Membrane’s face were his lower jaw, his temples, and his eyes.

Looking closer, Zim could see that the glow of his eyes was concentrated on the front part, the only part that is visible with Professor Membrane’s face prosthetic. The other half was encased in metal, connected to his organic parts with wires.

It was fascinating actually, seeing the mucosal tissues of a human. There was so much pink, pink like the lifeblood that flows through every Irken’s veins. His tongue was resting on top of his lower jaw, it was weird seeing it disappear as it nears the throat, going down the oesophagus.

Zim could also see a marriage between the organic and mechanic, as metallic parts are there to support and cover some of the exposed meat. Where there should be the nasal passage, was an artificial tube.

The edges featured tiny magnets, probably to hold Professor Membrane’s faceplate. Zim has seen much in his lifetime. He’s seen how cybernetics could replace almost anything but it was always visible if something is unnatural. Yet, Professor Membrane’s face, or at least his prosthetic, was good enough to fool Zim.

It was better than a hologram, that only mimics and changes appearances visually. It was something turned physical. Zim should feel disgusted, but instead he was more amazing than Zim could ever imagine.

The Professor’s technology was even more intertwined with his biology than Irken technology is with Irken bodies. While almost everything is genetically enhanced or modified, the mechanical aspect of Irken’s only constitutes their Pak, which is located outside of their bodies, attached to their spine.

“Love, speak. Do I scare you?” When he talked, his voice projected out from his throat. He had a voice box implanted. His tongue and lower jaw aren’t enough to make the appropriate vocalizations.

It was at that moment that Professor Membrane tried to cover up his gruesome anatomy with his faceplate but Zim stopped him. Before he could attach his face back on, Zim snatched his prosthetic.

Zim says in a low tone, or as low as he could try, he still sounds loud.

“No, you don’t scare me. Your current appearance doesn’t even disgust me. Instead, you intrigue me. I’ve never seen a human like you before.”

“In fact! Everyone else is disgusting compared to you.” He said louder, almost giddy-like.

“You’re brilliant! A genius worthy of Zim even! You merge technology so wonderfully, I want to see more!” There was audible excitement when Zim spoke.

“Zim, you don’t have to attack me with compliments. Is that really what you think?” Professor Membrane whispers, it’s hard to talk without his prosthetic. He uses a voice box but the movement of his artificial lip over his real lip was enough to make him believe that he is producing sound the natural way. It hurts.

Zim is studying the face prosthetic Professor Membrane designed. It was animatronic. The movement was controlled with nanotubes and circuitry connecting to small motors. If Zim wasn’t concerned about offending Professor Membrane, he’d rush to his underground labs to study it.

He feels a surge of affection, this is his human, no one else’s but Zim’s. Even other aliens don’t compare to his partner. Some were even too stupid to be alive, but somehow they live.

“Don’t be foolish, foolishness doesn’t suit you. You know that I adore you.” Never has Zim uttered something so soft before.

“I love you for your mind,” he kisses his lover’s forehead, “your strength,” he kisses his lover’s robo arms, “your height,” he kisses the hair scythe, “and everything else about you.” he leaves a big kiss on Professor Membrane’s prosthetic and Professor Membrane’s lower jaw.

Professor Membrane was stunned, his lower jaw dropped down and his electronic eyes emitted an even brighter glow. Zim hands Professor Membrane the prosthetic.

“Now cover up your holes before the germs invade you. I will not be having my lover be sick due to some pathetic Earth virus.” Zim looks at his lover. If he could, he would kiss the Professor’s soul, so only Zim would remain in the scientist’s heart.

Professor Membrane, places his face plate on with a ‘click.’ He lifts Zim up in his arms as he stands from his kneeling position. Zim shrieked as his feet lost contact with the ground.

“I was right to love you, Zim!” The Professor was gleeful.

“You’d be stupid if you rejected me.” Zim’s smugness at being loved reached an all-time high.

Professor Membrane twirled Zim above his head and hugged him close.

“You remember how I said that I never showed this to my children?” Professor Membrane hummed into Zim’s wig.

“Yes?”

“Please don’t tell them.” The Professor begged. His request surprised Zim.

“The Dib really doesn’t know? Wonderful! You have nothing to fear! I’ll keep your secret. You must really love Zim then!” Zim laughed maniacally.

Zim was so euphoric, his legs were moving back and forth.

“I’m glad I showed this side of mine to you. I like to imagine that, if I had an actual face, it would look similar to my prosthetic.” The current richest inventor and researcher on Earth sounded defeated.

The feeling returned. The feeling called guilt. Here he is, in the arms of his lover. His lover who doesn’t even know that Zim is from an entirely different race, sent to conquer his beloved Earth. It was a heavy feeling.

Is Zim actually empathizing with this human? He feels wrong, dirty, for taking advantage of someone like Professor Membrane. It was like he was spitting at the Professor’s intelligence.

There is no turning back from this relationship. At least, no way of turning back on his love. If Zim were to break things off, or just disappear, he’d end up with a broken heart. He still doesn’t know why it would hurt but just the thought makes his squeedilyspooch twist in angst.

He wants to continue whatever this is. He wants to feel light, feel acknowledged, feel loved. But if this really were mutual, then Zim would have to reveal his Irken self and be exposed as the enemy he is.

The Professor is still holding Zim up. He seemed content having Zim in his arms. Cuddling and nuzzling him. This is a comfort unmatched by any other.

Zim doesn’t want this to end, he’s ruined almost everything else good in his life. The Tallest haven’t contacted him in ages and the Massive and Irken fleets still remain missing. It’s lonely being the only Irken on Earth. Every other Irken is fleeing from the colonies they’ve conquered.

If Zim were to meet his demise, then he wouldn’t mind it being at the hands of his love, his equal. He breaks out of his lover’s grasp. He knows what to do.

“With all these secrets we’re sharing with each other, I believe that it is only fair for you to cast your eyes on my amazing self!” Zim acts confident, he can do confident, he can be cocky about his real looks. After all, he is handsome in all ways except height.

“Yes Zim, you are an amazing specimen.” The Professor looks at Zim fondly.

“You don’t get it! Focus more on my actual features. I know this disguise is amazing but you, as Zim’s equal should be able to tell where I differ from the rest!” Zim said angrily.

“Ok? Well, you have no visible nose or ears, you’re green and you have the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen.” His eyebrow lifted up in confusion as he spoke.

“Yes, yes I know my attractiveness is intimidating. But do you think I’m too attractive? Out of this world even?” Zim expects him to say the truth. The full truth. He’s not sure if he’s ready to be the one to confess things.

“You’re the only I know who looks like you.” Professor Membrane doesn’t know what else to say.

“Don’t you think it’s strange? The Dib always accuses me of being an alien.” Zim is stalling. He hopes that the Professor will find out on his own, so Zim wouldn’t have to admit it.

“I know my son is a handful, I’ll tell him to be more considerate of your skin condition.” The Professor said, exasperatingly, he doesn’t know what to do about his son.

If Professor Membrane thinks that that is what Zim is asking for then he really needs to join a reading the atmosphere class. Professor Membrane can be really blind at times.

“NO! The Dib-beast is right! I’m an alien! I’ve always been an alien. I come from the planet Irk. What you saw a few months earlier was real.” Zim said it. He can’t wait for Professor Membrane to find out his identity, it might take decades.

He takes off his contacts, his wig, and his goatee and threw them to the ground.

“I’m the alien you fought that day!” Zim points to himself.

“Look at my pink solid eyes, look at these antenna. Don’t you think I’m an alien?” He becomes more frustrated as he pointed out each strange thing about himself.

“Oh Zim, don’t worry about your appearance, I’ll always find you attractive. Your eyes are lovely by the way. You don’t have to call yourself an alien.” Professor Membrane still refuses to see what’s right in front of him.

Zim tugs off his gloves and boots.

“I have three fingers! I have two toes! Is it getting into your brain yet? I’m an alien.” Does the Professor want Zim to degrade himself further? Should he perform a little song and dance to the tune of the Irken Empires anthem?

“Those things could be congenital defects. I’m glad you’re comfortable enough with me to share your insecurities.” Professor Membrane’s attempts at being understanding are pathetic.

“Unless, you’re doing this because you hope to scare me off?” His voice takes on a worried tone, completely unwarranted in Zim’s opinion.

“You stupid, dumb, idiotic human!” Zim screams out.

Zim removes his shirt. He never intended to turn this into a sort of striptease, a term he learnt from a drunk guy who decided to ‘put on a show’ for more booze monies. Zim is glad that Gir dunked him in molten butter and popcorn because that display really disgusted him.

He drags the Professor down to have a seat on the floor and positions his Pak towards Professor Membrane. He also extends one of his spider legs. Hopefully, this will be enough to convince him of his extraterrestrial origins.

“Look at my Pak! Touch it with your robo hands! What you’re looking at is high quality Irken technology.” Zim is tired.

Professor Membrane is transfixed. He’s never seen something like this before. The Pak wasn’t stuck on superficially, it actually goes into Zim’s back. Studying it for a while, he realizes that it’s not made from materials found on Earth and it’s more advanced than anything he knows, something that shouldn’t be possible.

“I am a member of the Irken race. An intergalactic race who’s currently trying to take over the universe. I am an invader brought to Earth to take it over for Operation Doom II.

We modified ourselves biomechanically to be the ultimate species. The Pak you’re studying right now is where the entirety of Irken history and knowledge is contained. It is better than your human brains and computers. It holds my personality, my tools and my intelligence.” Zim explains.

“It holds all that information? You know the entire history of your race?” Asked an astonished Membrane.

“Several thousands of years of knowledge and more, regarding some other races and planets.” Zim didn’t think that Professor Membrane would focus on that, he thought he’d be held up on this conquering Earth thing he spewed out.

“Can you take up more information in your Pak?” The inquiries were calm, rational. As if Professor Membrane was doing a survey.

“Our Paks were designed to hold at least 1 billion years of storage.” That is a fact that still makes Zim proud of being an Irken, not many races can brag about having so much storage space.

In the scheme of things, 1 billion years is nothing compared to the expected lifespan of the universe, but it is more than enough for effervescent species like humans and Irkens.

Professor Membrane does the unexpected once again, he hugged Zim fiercely, ecstatically. Zim looked behind him, the stoicism of his prosthetic is nowhere to be found, an absurdly large grin was present on his face.

Was this a trap? His grin reminded Zim of the times Dib would smile before doing something horrible to Zim or before promising to do something horrible. That manic glint in Professor Membrane’s cyber eyes was heightened with the rapid closing and opening of his shutters, like a camera taking pictures.

Zim expected shock, Zim expected denial, Zim expected hatred or even understanding if things were more positive. But this elated expression on his lover’s face was something Zim did not expect. It was like he actually got the twelve cases of Uranium-38 from Santa on Christmas.

“Thank you Zim, I believe you. Without you I would’ve never had this chance.” Professor Membrane finally spoke out.

“What?” Zim asked.

“You’re amazing, Zim. Special. I’ll never regret meeting you.” The Professor was stroking his antenna in an overly possessive manner. This aggressive petting was something Professor Membrane never did. If Zim had any sensation on his one special, not defective, antenna, he’d be blushing from head to toe.

This really makes Zim wonder if Professor Membrane is planning to study his insides and dump him in a laboratory to be studied. But this time, Zim is prepared. He’ll face all sorts of tests, as long as he can stay by the Professor’s side.

This sort of devotion was only ever reserved for the Tallest though but they’re gone, possibly forever and the only leader Zim wants to have is Professor Membrane.

“Love-pig, I give you permission to use my body in whatever way you want.”

Zim accepted his fate, he willingly gives himself up for experimentation. He tries to break free from Professor Membrane’s vice grip to face him. It’s hard to have this discussion with his back against Professor Membrane’s chest.

The Professor paused his ministrations. Zim feels a sudden spike in Professor Membrane’s heartbeat and temperature.

“Zim, what do you think I’ll be doing with you?” The Professor is bashful. He doesn’t want any more misunderstandings between them.

“Aren’t you going to strap me on a table and use your various tools on me?” Zim was puzzled.

Professor Membrane still looks at Zim confusedly.

“I’ll let you cut me up but I’ll tell you where it’s safe to cut open because I still enjoy living and I expect to remain alive in your care until you can’t learn anything more from me. But don’t think it’ll be a short study! I am much more knowledgeable than you. I know more… knowledge!! than you. Things you humans can’t even begin to imagine!” He made his peace.

“Oh. NO! No Zim. I would never experiment on you like that!”

Professor Membrane’s outcry was unexpected.

“You’re more than anything I could ever dream of. You’re the answer to my loneliness.”

Was that it? Was Professor Membrane simply impressed with Zim’s true self? Was he in awe of Zim? The Professor might have reacted the same way if he met any other Irkens but it doesn’t matter to Zim. It is Zim Professor Membrane is reacting to, and not anyone else.

“Yup! Zim is the best! Too bad you’re a pitiful human and not a superior Irken.” Zim is back to his confident self.

“Let me apologize Zim. Please forgive me. I know you told me to trust you, but I haven’t been completely truthful.”

The Professor shrinks into himself, he’s ashamed.

Zim is more surprised. What else could Professor Membrane be hiding? Is it something on his body? While Zim was shirtless, gloveless and bootless, Professor Membrane still has his full coat on, only with the upper part undone. It’s not fair.

“I guess I should reveal my full self as well.”

He removes his face plate again, but instead of seeing the insides of a human head, there’s a hole. A black hole. Dark in colour. Not even his eyes remained.

Zim looks in. He sees everything and nothing, he sees the beginning and the end of humanity. He’s experiencing bliss but agony as well. There is so much information being downloaded in Zim’s Pak that it’s whirring frantically, trying to compile and organize everything. It was a sight he’s never seen before. He doesn’t even know what he’s looking at to be honest.

It’s addicting. He watches the smooth black void swirl with light splotches of what appears to be stars. There are nuclear fissions happening. It was like Professor Membrane contained a small galaxy on his face, with a black hole as its centre.

If Zim were sane he’d have lost his sanity but all he could feel is delight instead of horror. His scientific side is curious, he wants to know what, why, how it’s even possible.

Zim knows he should feel terrified. He’s dealing with something other, something inhuman. Professor Membrane is no ordinary being. He is like one of those Lovecraftian gods that humans make fiction of.

“Can I touch it?” He can’t call it a face, it held too much to be a face.

“Yes, but be careful,” Professor Membrane’s voice emitted from the void.

Zim briefly wonders what happened to the modifications Professor Membrane made. He hopes they’re not gone forever, it’s another part of his lover that Zim has learnt to cherish already.

Zim reaches for Professor Membrane’s actual ‘face,’ his hand gets sucked in. Terror filled Zim as he struggles. He’s afraid he’s being sucked in to be consumed by the void. Maybe Professor Membrane will consume him after all?

Before he can be pulled towards the centre of the hole, arms surround him and he is being held in place. Today is not the day Zim dies.

“Zim! I told you to be careful!” that voice appeared again. The voice of Zim’s daydreams and fantasies. Professor Membrane is still with him. Zim forgot for a moment.

“Hah! Don’t be silly my love! Nothing can beat the Almighty Zim!!!” He’s come down from whatever kept his mind in the clouds.

While being fastened by Professor Membrane, Zim decides to reach his arm out. Self-perseverance is a trait that Zim possesses but sometimes, he just wants to act out his impulses.

He feels something squishy and wet. Zim grabbed whatever that was. When he retracted his hand, he discovers that he’s holding onto a baby octopus. He puts it back in to grab something else. A teacup filled with hot tea. Typical. This time he doesn’t put his hand back in, giving the tea to Professor Membrane.

“What’s all that inside you?” Zim asks, he shrugs off the weirdness, it’s an ordinary Tuesday for him. A turbulent Tuesday but still a Tuesday.

“The combined knowledge of mankind.” It’s uncanny hearing Professor Membrane’s voice.

“What are you anyways?” If his lover isn’t a human, then Zim could gleefully continue their relationship without feeling too much guilt.

“I still like to consider myself as a human.” That dashes Zim’s hopes but considering Professor Membrane’s credentials, he’s still proud of being able to call himself Professor Membrane’s lover.

“But a human who’s been in existence as long as mankind has been. I don’t remember my origin, if I were to imagine myself as a child, it would be how I currently am, only smaller.” It was hard for Professor Membrane to admit that he’s forgotten important parts of himself.

“Irkens are only alive for a millennia of your human time.” It hurts Zim to realize this.

He always expected that he’d outlive his partner when the time comes but it might actually be the other way around. He doesn’t want to think more on it. He wants to move away from that topic.

“Is Professor your real name?” Zim has found out that Professor is a title, like Frylord or Invader or even Tallest is. So he was confused when looking at Professor Membrane’s documents to see that Professor is written as his first name.

“I’ve been called many things throughout my existence but the name that sticks out the most is Thoth.” Professor Membrane reflects back. That was something he can remember.

“Anyways, I want to discover more and your existence made me realize that mankind has restrained my full potential.” The Professor said.

Delight fills Zim. Is Professor Membrane willing to turn his back on humanity?

“With you telling me about your extraterrestrial origin, I was able to find proof of the existence of life in other worlds. The probability always existed but I never had any concrete evidence.

And the knowledge humans collected on space is so insufficient that they don’t really tell anything. Other information, like what Dib usually talks about, can be easily considered as hoaxes, quick to exit the minds of the populace.” He continued saying.

Every dismayed admittance of the inadequacy of humans and their discoveries makes Zim happier and happier.

“There are still many things to discover, that’s why I became a scientist, mankind’s knowledge is limited and information found can easily be lost forever.” Professor Membrane concluded his little speech.

Humans really are pitiful. Zim wished he could have landed on Earth ages ago, to forge a path for faster development. Hmm. Maybe he should consider doing it now, with Professor Membrane by his side.

“You’re not keeping anymore secrets from me are you?” To count, Zim has been shocked an entirety of three times in the span of this date. He checked the time with his Pak. Two and half hours have passed. This makes for a surprise every 50 minutes.

“No more secrets, my love.” Professor Membrane places his prosthetic back on his face. Zim sees the moment the void disappears and dissipates to turn back into the fleshy opening.

“We both showed our true faces to each other.” Zim said. His trust in the Professor is absolute. They’ll never have to hide themselves ever again in each other’s presence.

“We did. I’m glad we did. Thank you Zim.” The voice came out of Professor Membrane’s mouth, where voices are supposed to come out from.

Inspecting Professor Membrane’s face prosthetic, Zim acknowledges that he loves all of Professor Membrane’s faces. His kissable lips opened to say something. Zim wants to punch himself for thinking that way.

“You’re the only one to survive seeing my true self. Everyone else died from brain hemorrhaging or lost their minds to never recover.” He said nonchalantly.

“Good! Give Zim all the praise!” Zim takes any chance he can get to be praised. “And all the kisses!! Those were nice.” Professor Membrane delivers a quick peck on the lips.

“You deserve all the kisses from me,” Professor Membrane agrees, “I had a wonderful date.”

A realization hit Zim. Date night still didn’t end. And when date night continued after dinner, it usually meant that they would be spending time tinkering and working on one thing or another.

“Let’s work on making your prosthetic move smoother. I have just the right Irken tech to show you in my other working area. You’ll love it.

I modified it of course to make it less stupid but it should give you a fully functional ugly human face with feelings. It’ll hide your beautiful insides unfortunately but that’s living on Earth for people like us.” Zim rambled on, already thinking up of different things to do.

“Does it look anything like your disguise?” Professor Membrane loves Zim but a fake goatee, a wig and contacts don’t make for a good disguise, he confessed to himself.

Oh dear. Dib was right. Zim’s disguise was bad. Dib was also right about Zim being an alien. Professor Membrane promises to himself that he’ll believe his son more from now on.

“What? Unfortunately no! All the other disguises hid way too much of my handsomeness and it would be a disservice to everyone for me to hide it!”

Zim went on a tirade, “The Earth will be even more MORE sadder and uglier if I looked exactly like you humans. Gross. Be happy you get to see my full handsomeness in my true Irken self. There are many who don’t get the opportunity that you have.”

Zim gestures to himself. He’s still half-dressed. Professor Membrane hands Zim the rest of his outfit before things turn awkward. After dressing quickly, Zim once more is leading Professor Membrane by the hands into his labs, the cooler ones with all the alien tech.

‘Zim, never change, my lover from the stars.’ Professor Membrane thinks to himself fondly, as he is being led away. His various faces may not allow for much expression but he is smiling internally, full of love.

#zim #professor membrane #zimbrane #zapmr #pmazr #fanfic #mine #happy halloween folks!#i guess this could be considered my first serious-like attempt at fanfic #my regret is immeasurable

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switchbrainedholylime · 5 years ago

Text

Like Petroleum & Water - Chapter 1

Based on the prompt/AU idea by @skygemspeaks: https://skygemspeaks.tumblr.com/post/189686838998/you-know-what-dr-stone-modern-au-where-all-the

Summary: Senkuu’s new stepmother Lillian comes a family...a large, Southern one. And while Senkuu may have dreamed of going to space to explore another planet, he didn’t think that alien planet would be West Virginia.

Sure he and Byakuya were still going to live in Japan full-time, he didn’t have to move there; they just had to visit for one month every year during the summer after they got married. Lillian wanted a low-key family wedding without all the fuss of the media, so she was secretive about any details in interviews.

Of course, Lillian had told Byakuya who blabbed excitably about all the details to Senku, but luckily for the newly-engaged couple, the teen prodigy didn’t care about leaking any of the info to the media.

“I just dan’t wanna get my loved ones involved in all that drama, y’know? I just wanna have a nice time with the folks that made me who I am. I might have a big celebration afterward, but really deep down I guess I’m still a hometown girl. Sure, I could hire a big city caterer, have big names come to it, have a big giant cake the size of the moon, have everything big-big-big. But...that’s just ain’t who I am. It just wouldn’t feel right. I made a promise before my first major concert at 14 in Morgantown, home to my home state’s biggest university music program, to my aunt that she’d be the one that’d make my wedding cake, and I wanna keep that. She was my first official voice coach once she heard about how much all the kids on the street loved my singing. I owe it to her.”

When pop idol Lillian Weinberg posted her engagement photos with her and Byakuya in the ISS on her Instagram. The video of the engagement ring fluttering in zero-gravity until it moved towards Lillian, who slipped it on and embraced the Japanese astronaut got billions of views.

By the time the ISS returned, Bakuya was an international sensation and people were flocked to his university office. The school security had to actually train to themselves to deal with pesky paparazzi.

The world Senkuu inhabited was shattered like someone had taken their bare hands to a statue and crushed it like an egg. The other astronauts were clapping in the videos. Everyone in his class went ballistic.

Literally ballistic, too; one of Yuzuriha’s friends named Nikki threw her eraser so fast across the classroom in utter shock that it matched the trajectory of an arrow at about 27.3 mph. “Oh my God! Senku, this is your dad, isn’t it?”

Senkuu shifted his head over. “Yeah, that’s him, alright.”

“I can’t say that I blame Lillian, he’s a lot hotter than you, Senkuu.” Nikki smiled, “Of course, I’m always a sucker for a five-o-clock shadow.”

“He’s also gotten pretty buff from all that astronaut training, too. Some of the gym photos show ‘em getting pretty jacked.”

“He has a rustic spice about him, but he’s also smart. He raised Senkuu on his own, so you know he’s family-orientated and doesn’t have issues with commitment. He has a steady job, too.” Another schoolmate gushed.

“Wait, weren’t you working on a bodysuit for him back in elementary school. You don’t happen to still have a model of that around, do you?”

“I’d prefer it if you don’t talk about my dad in front of me like he’s some top 10 movie star. Sweet Issac Newton, my old man is in his mid-forties! None of you thought he was hot before he hooked up with Lillian!” Senkuu’s face was beet red and sweat as he grasped his piece of chalk for dear life. “Alright, can we please go back to the parabola formula. It’s going to be on the final exam.”

After a frustrating pre-finals review, Senkuu left the school grounds on his own as he thought to himself. His arms were firmly planted in his lab coat. He pouted and scowled to himself, “Had I known that the main result of my old man getting into JAXA would be that he got to bang his favorite celebrity instead of getting some serious science work done, I wouldn’t have made that swimming suit-”

His monologuing was interrupted by Taiju and Yuzuriha. “Senku! Hey, congrats to your old man. Yuzu said that she’d make a custom tuxedo, so I kinda gave her your measurements. Sorry I didn’t ask you first-”

“Great, now even my two best friends wanna bang my future step-mom and by next school year, I’ll have to submit paperwork to change my name to ‘Senku Weinberg’. What a joke,” Senku groaned. “I even heard people are starting to fantasize about me, comparing my eyes to rubies! No one even cared about us before this!”

“Senku! You know I only love Yuzuriha. Also...you know I’ve always cared about you. Famous or not,” Taiju insisted.

“Then why haven’t you told Yuzuriha yet that you love her?”

“I...plan on it! I promise! After finals, and definitely by the time you get back from the wedding!”

“You better.” Senkuu gazed up at the sunset. He then high-fived his friend, “Don’t forget your summer homework assignment, big oaf.”

“I won’t!”

----

Getting to travel first-class was surreal, to say the least. Senkuu gazed out his window and calculated the seconds it’d take to get there or how high they were above ground by the centimeter. They transferred from Tokyo to New York to Huntington. From there it was an hour drive through the windy mountains that made Senkuu AND Baykuya nearly vomit from motion sickness until they finally arrived at Lillian’s hometown: Pickens, West Virginia. Population 40.

“Alright, y’all! We’re here.” Lillian turned to her fiancee and soon-to-be stepson.

“Here I thought the JAXA training was rough...,” Byakuya groaned.

“I figured I was going straight to Hell, but I didn’t think it’d be this soon,” Senkuu muttered to himself.

“GET UP!” Lillian kicked the car and shook them out of it. “Good grief, y’all need to build up some grit!”

“Darling!” A dark-brown haired middle-aged woman and embraced the pop singer. “Oh, I’ve missed you so much. I prayed for you constantly that you’d come back home.”

“Thanks, Auntie Turquoise!” Lillian jumped towards her aunt. “How’re Cousins Kohaku and Ruri? The trio o’ Ruby, Sapphire ‘n Garnet ain’t causin’ the sheriff too much trouble, are they?”

“Thankfully they’re not. Though boy is that Magma a whole wreck to deal with; he broke his DUI parole again yet he still drives through the town on his truck like it’s a NASCAR ring. He’s a headache.”

“Turquoise...? Lapis Lazuli?” Senkuu sat up.

“There’s not a lot of people ‘round ‘ere so we don’t really bother with last names. We just go by our favorite stone. Lillian Weinberg’s actually my stage name. I actually officially changed it in order to enroll in the ISS program, though. I’m the only person in this ‘ol town with a first and last name or to have left in more than 50 years.”

“The only person!?” Senkuu nearly choked. “And not only that, you made it to SPACE!? What even is this!?”

“Why did you choose ‘Weinberg’?” Byakuya asked.

“There’s a town just a few miles north ‘o ‘ere called Helvetia that’s a huge tourist trap since it’s all about Dutch and German heritage. Auntie Turquoise used to get me presents from there craftsmen there all the time. I’ll always treasure that wooden music box y’all got me when I started my first period.”

“Well, I couldn’t help myself for my favorite niece.” Aunt Turquoise smiled.

“We can swing by there sometime on our way back to the airport. I get the feelin’ y’all have had enough twirling for today.”

“Yeah,"

“What happens if more than one person has the same favorite stone?”

“Oh, Pastor Jasper keeps a record on that. If that happens, they pick the same name of the stone but in a different language. That’s why Kohaku and Ruri aren’t called ‘Amber’ and ‘Lapis Lazuli’."

“I-I guess.” Byakuya blinked.

“Well, what’re waitin’ in the car for? C’mon in!” Lillian picked both grown men up and carried them into the house.

#occ #drst #dr stone #lillian weinberg #fanfic

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granddaughterogg · 6 years ago

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Things Death doesn’t say.

So outspoken, so eloquent if he wants to. Caustic wit is just another weapon of his choice, as cutting to the bone as any. You giggle and marvel at the scathing shit he says. He can make carnage look beautiful.

Yet this one phrase always ends up lodged in his throat. Even the thought of saying it renders him speechless. It's as if those simple words were a curse, and he is cursed.

He actually broke the spell once. Before jumping into the Well of Souls. You cried so much, you sobbed hysterically. So he told you. In a stifled voice, as if it was his ugly secret. It sounded more like an apology than anything else. And then he went and killed himself because that's the kind of guy that he is.

What followed was an ocean of heartbreak, an eternity of longing. Death came back to you in the end. Since then he's been expressing himself in myriad ways that don't include speech. Bending his prideful, distrusting, abrasive nature to accommodate your human need for closeness. In all ways except one.

You've learned to live with this quirk of his. Some days you would yearn for a full-blown declaration out of a romance novel. But your life was filled to the brim with romance. The real one. And that's what counted.

When he's taken with something you say or do, or whenever you really rankle him - a quick string of words leave his lips. Sometimes he mutters under his breath; sometimes it's more of an exasperated sigh. You don't know the language. To you, it sounds like Mordor speech, but a tad sexier. Then again - Death reading out loud GPS coordinates would be considered sexy, too.

Yet you've learned to recognize the sounds. You've always had a good ear for music. Unbeknownst to your lover you've learned those alien words by heart.

Humans have always been noxiously curious.

"Hey, Strife," you asked on one rainy day. The oldest Horseman was away on business, and the rest of you chilled around the fireplace. "Can you tell me what that means? And sorry for the shitty accent. I try my best."

You repeated the whole phrase. And was surprised to see Strife’s carefree smile morph into something entirely else. He frowned hard.

"Where did you get this?" he asked.

"Death says it all the time. Like, all the time".

Strife opened his mouth, snapped it shut, then opened it again. He let out a nervous, prolonged sigh. It was so uncharacteristic of him - the blabbermouth of the family - that your innocent curiosity went up a notch.

""Is it a curse word? Is it really nasty? Because I wanna know Nephilim curses."

"Eh, no." Said Strife slowly. "It's not a curse word. If anything... it's the opposite."

"Then tell me!"

He looked so distraught.

"Look, kid," he said finally, looking you dead in the eye. This was the most serious you've seen Strife in months. "I'm sorry, but I cannot. I shouldn't. It's...not my place to do so, okay? Besides, my brother’s gonna behead me with a blunt saw if I do."

"Why the blunt saw?" you asked, chuckling at this exaggerated vision.

"Because it hurts more!"

"Fine", you said and pouted. "I'm gonna ask someone else then. War!"

"What?" the Red Rider emerged from the kitchen, chewing on a fried chicken leg. He held a super-size KFC container under his iron arm. It was just that kind of day in the Nephilim household.

"What does this mean?" You repeated the whole phrase.

Strife's eyes got wide; he gestured at his brother frantically.

"Don't tell her!"

"Huh?" War swallowed and shot his sibling a baffled stare. "Why not? Little One, your accent is rather nice, by the way."

"Because Death said it!" Strife hissed.

War's broad features froze for a second. Then his bright eyes flashed with apprehension, which in turn got swept away by the same profound embarrassment that Strife had shown. You watched this and got pissed.

"Well then?"

"I probably shouldn't," War muttered and hid his face in the chicken bin.

"Jeez, guys, I just hate it when you are like this! What in the world is it? I am not a child, you know. I can handle a few saucy profanities!"

"What's with all the yelling?" asked an irritated, yet melodic female voice. Fury stuck her head through the door. She looked dishevelled and miffed.

"I was trying to doze off, but it seems impossible with all the ruckus that you're causing, human. What is it this time?"

"Fury! What does this mean? Just answer me."

You repeated the mysterious sounds for the third time.

"Oh, that means <<I love you>> in Nephilim," she said matter-of-factly.

Both War and Strife gasped in horror.

"Where on Earth did you get this phrase from, by the way? Haven't heard that one in a while."

"Death...says it" you answered slowly. Suddenly you understood. You understood oh, so much. Blood drained from your face. You wanted to laugh. You wanted to cry at your own pig-headedness and ignorance.

"He says it all the time."

#darksiders #darksiders 2 #darksiders3 #darksiders death #death/reader #war #strife #fury #fluff #domestic shenanigans #them feelz #death x reader

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arpmemething2 · 6 years ago

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Arrowverse Starters

Was too lazy to do a bunch of individual memes for each series, so here’s one giant meme with quotes from all of them. Some of these have been slightly altered to take out specific names and/or make them more generic. Feel free to send in for my muse’s reaction.

"You have failed this omelet."

"I just watched a half-man half-shark take on the fastest man alive. I love this city!"

"Congratulations. You have the wit of a youtube comment."

"I think the seam was starting to split."

"Nobody breaks up my family, you son of a bitch!"

"No offense, but I never met a building I couldn't break into."

"Because I like men. And I like women."

"A jedi craves not these things... No one's feeling that quote."

"I didn’t get to where I am by running and hiding from a fight."

"You two have each other. Most people, in any time period, aren't that lucky."

"You guys are like 10 seasons of Ross and Rachel but smushed into one year."

"I'm from East London. Oh, and the future."

"What kind of tool steals a yellow Humvee?"

"I'm not a murderer. I'm a force of nature. A servant of fate. I enable destiny."

"If you can't kill your enemy, weaken him. If you can't cut off his head, take his heart."

"I want a wife to grow old with. And a kid. And I don't want them to wonder all the time if their dad is in trouble. "

"If we have the power to change the world, don't you think we have the power to change our own fate?"

"You're lucky he didn't knock out your teeth. THose puppies don't grow back."

“I was always too good at forgiving myself. You were never good enough.”

"To run a corporation is not the same as ruling a country."

"I don't believe in fat. I believe in choices."

"We go out for one lousy drink and you guys somehow manage to pick a fight with Bobba Fett."

"I have tried everything I can think of. Last night I helped a family assemble their Ikea table. It’s still not enough."

"If there's one thing pirates love more than treasure, it's a good story."

"In my defense, they were happily corrupted."

"He fights for justice and he cares about this city which is no different than any other officer here as far as I'm concerned. "

"Living is not for the weak."

"You and I, we've been through too much together to let each other down now. Please, let me help you."

"Best team up ever!"

"You're the best person I ever knew. You may not think you're a hero, but you're a hero to me."

"Sometimes I want to repay that violence with more violence. I wanna make someone hurt as much as I do."

"In order to live, we must keep daring."

"I hearby christen this building as the bomb."

"More drinking, less feeling."

"All four of you standing there doing nothing, you look like the attractive yet non threatening, racially diverse cast of a CW show."

"Alright? We've been kidnapped!"

"Usually I find the person and then I put the fear of God into them until they talk. But we can try your way."

"We all have regrets. But we can't undo the things we've done."

"You know us billionaire vigilantes, we do love our toys."

"If I’m going to be a hero and prove to everyone that I know what I’m doing, I’m gonna need practice. Start small, get better."

"I'd tell you to go to hell, but you'd probably just feel at home there."

"Finally, I realized some people are just bad. But you can learn to protect yourself.”

"We might want to rethink that whole "we screw up things for the better" motto."

"We fight to live as long as we can. That's the only way to live and to be able to live with yourself."

"That film is surpisingly scientifically accurate."

"To quote every 'Star Wars' movie ever made, I've got a bad feeling about this."

"I'll take a nightmare that's real over a dream that's a lie."

"If you want to harness your power, you need to learn to control your fear."

"We only break the rules to help people."

"Somebody once told me that secrets have weight. The more you keep, the harder it is to keep moving."

"It turns out at the end of the day, love is worth the risk. None of us can do this alone."

"Get me a salad for lunch. I don't care what kind as long as it has a cheeseburger on top."

"There's something about me that for most of my life, I've run from it. But last night, I embraced who I am and don't want to stop."

"I have no interest in this being a fair fight."

"Say, didn't I kidnap you once?"

"Really? We're trying to save the world and you're lifting wallets?"

"(S)he’s the kind of girl/boy that you take home to your parents, and I am the kind you take to an exorcism."

"We protected the humans of this city by killing a monster."

"You can't change the things you did. But you can change what you become."

"You have failed this city."

"Call security. I haven't seen eyes that crazy since I had fondue with Ramona Singer."

"Do you remember when you told me you had nothing left to teach me? I guess you had one final lesson. How to be a cold son of a bitch."

"I'll go get the alien. You get the girl."

"I have a feeling she'll want to hyphenate."

"Nazis? I hate Nazis."

"It's not a big deal, I got into a fight. I thought you'd be proud of me. I went for the nose, just like you told me."

"They are mostly a jerk. But every once and a while, they could be a dick."

"You're joking. You're working with the man who threatened to kill my entire family?"

"I've spent my whole life searching for the impossible. Never imagining that I would become the impossible."

"Your goodness is your strength."

"Having a nemesis is stressful."

"How can you speak 6 languages and sound like a dick in every one of them?"

"Forgive me, but to me, you've been dead for centuries."

"I'm sorry; I didn't realize being a fake lawyer was more interesting than getting revent on the bastard that kill them."

"Great things are never easy."

"Totally rather get shot than look like a Sears model."

"Well, that's what I am. I'm very boring and really normal."

"You could have just used the door."

"Out of everyone you could've picked to rob, you picked me?"

"If we make the wrong move in here, these cuffs are gonna be the least of our worries."

"Not every hero wears a mask. Some heroes save the day in the simplest of ways. By just being there for us, or letting us know we're believed in."

"There's no bravery without fear."

"You're on fire! You don't seem that bothered by the fact that you're on fire."

"Your choice insisted I not walk around your house naked, so I found one of your dresses. You're out of milk."

"Cops'll never hassle a dad buying diapers in the middle of the night."

"Well, research skills are kind of a superpower."

"They are the objective just not the priority. Not this time."

"No hero can save everyone, but a real hero never stops trying."

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marvelmando · 5 years ago

Text

tempest [p.parker x o.c.] - thirteen

notes: hey y’all it’s been a hot second i think. but im still here! hope you all enjoy :) also don’t forget, if you’d like to be notified every time i update tempest, feel free to leave a comment to be added to my taglist!

contains: some swearing, angst of course

pairing: peter parker + fem! o.c.

word count: 3.3k

previous chapter next chapter tempest masterlist

MARIN RETRACTED THE ENERGY FROM AROUND HER FACE ONCE SHE REALIZED THE AIR ON TITAN WAS BREATHABLE. The first thing that popped into her brain was, did we land on Mars? But then she remembered the lurch into hyperspace (at least, she figured that was what it was, and she refused to think of it as anything else), and dismissed the idea.

But apart from the clearly dilapidated city this had once been, Titan was the exact same color as all the pictures of Mars had led her to believe—soil the color of bricks, dust floating through the air and covering every surface it landed on in a thick blanket of clay particles. Marin sneezed.

Peter looked around in awe, then she saw his gaze land on the alien girl with the antennae, still wrapped in his webbing. He left Marin’s side to approach her, and with nothing else to do while Tony ruminated, Quill searched the terrain, and Dr. Strange hovered over a rock with green energy floating around him, Marin chose to follow Peter.

“—it should dissolve soon, unless you want me to cut you out,” he was saying. With a murmured assent, Peter started cutting the girl out of his webs. “I’m Peter, by the way.” Once she was free, he stuck out a hand in greeting. The girl stared down at the proffered hand, then back to Peter’s face.

“I am Mantis.” She bowed slightly, completely ignoring Peter’s outstretched hand.

“Right,” Peter nodded back, lowering his hand awkwardly.

“I’m Marin.” She offered up a bit too harshly. Marin wasn’t used to resentment, but she didn’t like that the alien knew about her past. Did she know of it, or was she just forcing me to remember? Either way, Marin felt shifty standing next to her.

The alien—Mantis, an appropriate name for the fact she looked like a kind of insect—bowed again. Grateful the girl didn’t know Earthly customs; Marin wasn’t eager to make contact with her skin again.

Despite the unease she still felt around the alien, she was at least moved to make amends for her prematurely aggressive actions. “I’m sorry for attacking you.”

“I am also sorry for attacking you.” Even though it could’ve come across sounding slightly parroted, Marin saw the sincerity in her large, black eyes. Her antennae even drooped a bit, reminding Marin of a kicked puppy. She didn’t like the guilt that flooded her system.

“Oh yeah,” Peter said to Mantis, sounding interested. “What did you do anyway? All I saw was Marin put her hands on you and the next second she was on the ground, squirming.” Marin bristled, not liking how Peter described her… session? Was that what she could call it? Either way, Marin didn’t like that he saw how utterly incapacitated she’d become; whether it was a blow to her pride or dignity, she couldn’t tell. Or were they kind of the same thing?

“I can experience others’ emotions, sometimes the memories that are associated with the feelings.” Mantis explained, sounding rather robotic, as if English wasn’t her first language (which, in hindsight, it most definitely wasn’t. Distantly, Marin wondered how common English was in the universe, or if the translation was due to some sort of universal device.)

“No way! You’ve got empathy powers?!” Peter was growing visibly excited, vibrating slightly and bouncing on his heels. “So do I! Did you get bit by a radioactive mantis or something? Because—”

Marin lingered to the side, completely ignored. Peter seemed to either forget that this alien had attacked Marin so viciously, or disregard it. But even with this reasoning, Marin failed to convict herself. So why was she feeling so… jealous?

Nevertheless, Marin felt like an outsider, and after almost two years of getting over that fear, having it come back and hitting her like a blow to the stomach, Marin walked away. Not that either of them noticed, which was another blow, more like a slap to the cheek.

She instead approached Tony, who was in the middle of talking to Quill.

“—we’ve got one advantage: he’s coming to us. We’ll use it.” Nodding decisively, he turned and paced. “All right, I have a plan. Or at least the beginnings of one.” He announced to the team. Marin looked over her shoulder to Peter, who was raptly observing Mantis bounce up and down, slightly floating due to the lower gravitational field of the planet. Marin’s stomach twisted.

“It’s pretty simple. We draw him in, pin him down, get what we need.” Peter was starting to approach them, still glancing back at Mantis. “Definitely don’t wanna dance with this guy, we just want the gauntlet.”

“So we’ve gotta figure out a—”

Marin started to process a plan, when Tony interrupted her to chastise the buff dude.

“Are you yawning?” He looked offended. “In the middle of this, while I’m breaking it down? Huh? Did you hear what I said?”

“I stopped listening after you said ‘We need a plan’.”

“Okay, Mr. Clean is on his own page.” Tony said grumpily to no one in particular.

“See, ‘not winging it’ isn’t really what they… do.” Quill said, strangely, as if he wasn’t a part of their team.

Marin scoffed. “So what the hell do they do?”

“Kick names, take ass.” Mantis said, so assuredly that Marin had to think twice about the logistics of the statement.

Looking at Tony, she could tell that he was beginning to seriously regret coming to Titan. “All right, just get over here please.”

The six of them gathered in a loose circle, Marin standing closer to Tony than she did Quill, who was on each of her sides. Marin locked eyes with Peter for a moment, but glanced away, feeling an uncomfortable knot growing in her chest the longer she looked at him. She rubbed her chest inconspicuously as Tony tried to lay down the basic guidelines of a plan, trying to dispel the weird feeling.

“Tell him about the dance-off to save the universe.” The buff alien said, catching Marin’s attention.

“What dance-off?” Tony was bewildered, but Marin chanced a shared look with Peter, who seemed on the same wavelength as her.

“Like in Footloose, the movie?” He chuckled, and despite her sudden unease, Marin felt herself sharing a secret smile with him. Back when they saw each other almost every weekend, Peter took it upon himself to show Marin all of the cheesy 80s and 90s movies, after discovering that between training and school, she’d never gotten around to seeing them.

One night in particular, about two months after moving to the Tower, it’d snowed so bad that Peter was stuck there for the night, where they’d gotten through 16 Candles, Taxi Driver, St. Elmo’s Fire, and Footloose. By the time Footloose had come on, it was nearing four o’clock in the morning, and they’d run out of popcorn and couldn’t be hassled to microwave some more. So they’d just sat there, Peter humming along to the songs, and Marin just watching him from the other side of the expansive couch.

‘It’s catchy,’ he’d said to her once the credits started rolling, looking genuinely content but bashful at being caught singing along, ‘But it’s not the greatest movie in the world or anything.’

“Exactly like Footloose!” said Quill, pleased that someone had understood his reference. “Is it still the greatest movie in history?”

Marin grinned. “It never was.”

Peter’s eyes flickered over to her, his smile dropping into something softer, warmer. Marin felt the heat rise from her chest, crawling up her neck and flushing her cheeks. She gave him another smile before surrendering to the urge to look away before he noticed her blush.

“Don’t encourage this, all right?” Tony stepped closer to her, blocking her view of Peter. Marin rolled her eyes. “We’re getting no help from Flash Gordon here.”

Now that was a reference she didn’t understand.

“’Flash Gordon’?” Quill spoke, forcing Tony to turn so he could look at him. “By the way, that’s a compliment. Don’t forget, I’m half-human. So that 50% of me that’s stupid…” He looked to make sure Tony was following. “That’s 100% you.”

It was infallible logic to Marin, although she was pretty sure that this guy was more than fifty-percent stupid.

“Your math is… blowing my mind.”

“Excuse me?” Said Mantis, who was sounding worried. “But does your friend often do that?”

Everyone turned to see Dr. Strange, who, still glowing a sheer sheen of green light, was fidgeting at weird angles, almost looking as if he was possessed.

As Marin hurried over to get a closer look, Dr. Strange’s head was twitching at an accelerated speed.

Just as she’d approached, he’d emerged from whatever trance he’d been in with a pained shout. Marin and Tony helped to steady him on the rock he toppled on. Dr. Strange gasped for air, looking around frantically.

“Are you okay?” Marin grabbed his arm, holding him from thrashing about.

“You’re back, you’re all right.”

“Hey, what was that?” Peter asked.

“I went forward in time to view alternate futures,” Dr. Strange explained, sounding out-of-breath. “To see all the possible outcomes of the coming conflict.” He blinked rapidly, looking more shaken that she’d seen him. Granted, she’d only known him for a few hours, but from what Marin gathered, Dr. Strange seemed quite level-headed and not like the type to be distressed under pressure. It wasn’t as alarming as finding Tony broken down on the ship, but it was still unnerving to Marin.

“How many did you see?”

“14 million, six hundred and five.”

“How many did we win?” Marin asked. She braced herself, sensing a strong feeling of disturbed energy emanating from Dr. Strange.

The wizard took a bracing inhale. He shifted his eyes away from her, before settling heavily on Tony. “One.”

The silence was deafening in Marin’s ears. Her focus went fuzzy as she tried to calculate the sheer odds of winning this.

At some point, everyone started yelling, but Marin was still stuck on the ground, hands now empty as Dr. Strange had positioned himself in the debate, brushing off Quill’s attempts to weasel the truth from him.

She ran over the statistics in her head. There were only three Stones Thanos needed—the Soul Stone, which was at an unknown location; the Mind Stone, which was currently somewhere on Earth, if the rest of the Avengers were ever able to locate Vision; and the Time Stone, in Dr. Strange’s possession. Three more Stones and he’d be able to wipe out trillions—and one of the only things stopping it from happening was this chaotic group of powered individuals.

Marin clenched her eyes shut, letting her body curl in on itself as she desperately flipped through attack plans in her head. There was little to no water on this planet, and she’d drank all of her water back on the ship, so her hydrokinetic powers were out. All she had in her arsenal were her energy manipulation powers, and they were still uncontrolled, at best. She’d managed to control her flight abilities well enough, but she still struggled heavily with her attack powers.

The touch to her forearm startled her enough for her to activate her energy, though they relaxed at the sight of a concerned Tony Stark with his arms braced in surrender.

Once relaxed, he took the seat next to her.

“It’s gonna be okay, kid.” He said, even though he hardly sounded convinced himself. “We all… well, most of us know what we’re doing.”

Marin laughed dryly. “Yeah, and who’s that? Because all I see are a bunch of fucked-up misfits trying to fit together like pieces belonging to seven different puzzles.” Marin tugged a rough hand through her hair, now reaching inches below her shoulders and bangs grown long. “Let’s see, we’ve got: one rich guy in a fancy suit, one wizard-slash-doctor with a seriously messed-up superiority complex, an alien with feely-powers, another alien that only has enhanced strength in his arsenal, one half-wit with a mad vendetta the size of Texas, one spider-kid, and one… one mutant that can’t control the only power that she’s got a chance at defeating this guy with.” Marin was flushed by the end of her rant, panting hard. She realized that her hands were beginning to glow, so she flexed them, forcing her energy to crawl back.

“Wow,” said Tony, stoically. “You done harping?”

Marin grumbled an assent but felt the anger dissipate nonetheless.

“Good. Because… well, I’d have to agree with you about a lot of those observations. For one, Drax and Quill aren’t the brightest.” Marin rolled her eyes. So that was the buff dude’s name. “Neither is Mantis, for that matter. But they’ve got something we don’t have—experience. And I know what you’re gonna say, I’ve been doing this for years, too. But I’ve also never been to space—this Quill guy? He’s half-god. Like, his father was a planet.” At her inquisitive look, he explained with a shrug, “He likes to blabber.”

He repositioned himself so he was facing her more. “Anyway, my point is, these guys may not be as mechanically or strategically intelligent as us, but they know Thanos—they have direct experience with fighting him. Us? Me? All I’ve done is fight regular alien drones. And one demi-god, but this… we need them, Mare.”

Marin glanced up at the nickname. He didn’t use it often, sticking to her full name or ‘kid’, only sometimes ‘Tempest’. Tony had become something of a father-figure to Marin, something she’d never really had, even when her dad was alive. Tony knew this, and she thought that was why he’d pulled her under his wing. Even Peter didn’t seem as close to him anymore, seeing as he lived hours away.

“And as for you?” Tony poked her shoulder, causing a smile to creep onto her lips. “I have all the faith that you’ll do whatever you can to stop him. You’ve never been faced with a greater threat, but… I think you’re ready. Truly.”

Marin’s smile grew, settling into something private and warm. “Thanks, Tony.”

“That being said…” Tony continued, looking hesitant. “Your attacks still drain a lot of your power, and we need you to save as much as you can for when the time comes.

“The plan is, we need to get the gauntlet off of his arm. That’s our best bet. We can do that if we work together—Quill and Drax getting him to the ground, Pete, Dr. Strange and I keeping his arms apart, so we can keep his hand open to prevent him from using the Stones. Mantis will keep him calm using her empath control, and you’re gonna drain his energy to keep him weak.”

Marin’s eyes widened. “I don’t—but I’ve never—!”

“I know, but that’s why we need you to stay down until it’s time. We need as much of your energy as possible if we’re gonna win this.”

Marin searched his eyes. “Did Dr. Strange tell you any of this?”

Tony sighed, confessing, “No. He’s refusing to give us even the tiniest hints. All he’s admitting to is that we need to try and get the gauntlet off of Thanos. From there, he says that if he tells us, it won’t happen.”

“So… how…” Marin grunted frustratedly, rubbing her face with her hands. “How the hell are we supposed to win this thing?”

Tony smiled, clapping her shoulder. “Teamwork.”

Marin sighed. “Of course.”

+++

After Tony left to go discuss the plan with the others, Marin didn’t move from her seat. She figured she should’ve been doing the meditations Natasha taught her, to hone into her powers and focus on controlling them, but Marin was so frazzled, she felt that if she even attempted bringing out her powers, they would go haywire and she’d be drained even before the battle started.

This was always the hardest part of missions. Even back in the X-Men, when the only missions they went on were busting drug deals and recruiting new mutants, it was the waiting that drove Marin crazy. The not-knowing but anticipating the action. It was somehow worse, now, because she knew that the threat was far greater than petty drug dealers and mutant adolescents.

She could feel the energy bubbling inside her, fritzing her nerves. She felt jittery, her exposed skin buzzing like an active wire. She jumped up, pacing, trying to calm herself down.

As she went to turn, she bumped into a body, startling her and almost making her energy flash. “Jesus, Parker!”

“Sorry!” He jumped back, avoiding her skin. That stung, even though she knew it was probably the most logical reaction. Still, irrationally hurt by his recoil, she wrapped her arms protectively around her chest, tucking her trembling hands beneath her underarms.

Realizing his error, he automatically reached out, grabbing onto her triceps with firm, steady hands. His grip grounded her, the warmth of his skin somehow permeating both the metallic fabric of his suit and the lycra-type microparticles of hers. Almost immediately, Marin felt herself steadying.

She reflexively uncrossed her arms as she stared into Peter’s eyes, which were darkened with worry. “Mare, you all right?”

Not bothering to hide it, she exhaled, shaking her head minimally. “No, I don’t think so.”

He pulled her into him, folding her into his embrace. Marin, now just short enough, tucked her head under Peter’s chin, resting her cheek on the cooled metal spanning his chest. She wrapped her arms solidly around his waist. Through the suit, she could feel the steady, strong beat of his heart, and the two of them stayed silent, allowing themselves to revel in the comfort of a familiar pair of arms.

After a moment, when her breathing steadied, and she could feel Peter’s heart to quicken just slightly, they pulled away slowly.

“Better?” Peter asked, searching her eyes, tone free of any vanity that would have sounded in anyone else’s mouth.

Marin nodded, eyes roaming idly over his face. It’d been so long since she’d been this close to Peter, and she could see some of the changes in his expression, where she couldn’t see in the darkness of the ship. He had a darker smattering of freckles, his eyes creased only slightly where his skin folded when he smiled. He didn’t look old, like with wrinkles, but his face showed a new sense of maturity she hadn’t noticed before; where there was a subtle roundness in his cheeks, skin stretched tighter over bone, exposing sharper cheekbones and a stronger jaw. She noticed the muscle in his jaw clench, his thin lips moving over teeth like he was chewing on words he couldn’t bring himself to say. His hair was longer, it flowed from his head in waves like a sea of melted chocolate, curling slightly where it wrapped behind his slightly stuck-out ears. She remembered when they seemed too big for his head, but they suited him now, only a little noticeable as they framed his chiseled face.

The only thing that remained completely unchanged were his eyes. Honey brown and so expressive; she could read every emotion that flashed across them. Flecks of gold lined the darkness of the pupil, brightening the longer she looked into them.

Something rolled in her stomach as she studied him, aching like a cramp. Her chest ached like someone had taken her heart and gripped it tight, and she yearned to discover what exactly was making her feel this way. She’d never felt anything like it before—only something similar to when she remembered Lucy and James with an aching fondness, but this… this was twenty times stronger than that. It was like her soul was simultaneously being lit on fire and brushed by the frigid grip of liquid nitrogen.

She wasn’t sure what she would’ve said, but the words were squeezed out of her, “Pete, I—”

“Everyone into position!” Tony hollered, breaking Marin and Peter out of their shared trance. They reluctantly backed away from each other, only seeming to come to attention at the realization that this was it. There was no more waiting, no more anticipation.

Thanos was coming.

taglist

@dark-night-sky-99 @pushmeinablackhole @demi-starzak @-thatgirloverthere- @yourwonderbelle @silver-winter-wolf

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my-love-peterp · 6 years ago

Text

Mistaken Chapter One

Word Count: 2103 THERE ARE NO ENDGAME SPOILERS, THIS IS A DELAYED UPLOAD FROM AO3

Fic Summary: Peter Parker has been given the responsibility of bringing in a new recruit. Now, as an adult, he realizes that none of the trashy YA novels he read in high school could have prepared him for this. There was a storm on the horizon, and all they could do from the Tower is watch.

Chapter Summary: A new recruit is brought into the fold and is more than a handful.

Warnings: language, mentions of injury, non-graphic violence (brief)

A/N: You may have seen me over @fabtasticass which is my main blog. So this is my first fanfic and it's going to be a big one. It is a Soulmates AU but not in the traditional way. That won't show up until later chapters. I'm going to try to keep endgame a secret the best I can. I have some very angsty ups and downs planned but I'm trying to hold back. So I’ll tag each chapter with what pairing might be in that chapter in the official Tumblr tags but never at the beginning.

I ran, dodging rats, and clumps of unidentified garbage that lay literal feet from a plethora of garbage cans and dumpsters. God, I hated this city.

I especially hated this city in the rain, dashing through back alleys of Queens with all of my belongings in tow.

Rolling in and out of huge asphalt craters, my suitcases jostled my already pained arm. It had only been three or so hours since I’d reset the dislocated joint against my fire escape.

Blood dripped from a split along my hairline, mingling with sweat and city rainwater. At this point, I felt like a drowned cat and probably smelled like a wet dog. Super, awesomely attractive, right?

Bracing myself against the wall of the nearest building, I pulled a flask out of the interior pocket of my jacket and took a swig. The flask was light pink with the words “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” emblazoned on the side. It filled me with a dark sense of glee and irony every time I used it. I nicked it from one of those chain party supply stores a few months back, which I supposed could be my version of fun.

The whiskey burned as it went down but as it hit my stomach it helped to warm my rain-soaked bones.

I began moving again. As I wove in and out of the misshapen piles in the alleyway, I felt the hair prickle on the back of my neck. It felt like I had a curious pair of eyes, tracking my every move and staring me down. I ignored my most basic instinct to turn around and investigate and my training kicked in instead. My eyes swept the alleyway ahead of me, monitoring the shadows, ears open and head down. I checked every shiny surface to see the reflection behind me. Empty alleyways are all that I was shown. So I shoved aside my intrusive paranoia and started whistling tunelessly as I moved. I’d felt that prickle for days and nothing had come of it.

In front of me, business lights filtered through the rain, casting a glow over the stone walls. Wet, sputtering and a little drunk, it only made sense that I was the target of some less friendly men who had stationed themselves outside of a local dive bar. They jeered and reached out at me. “Piss off you assholes, I’m not in the mood.”

Their demented shouts ranged from demands that I take off my clothes, false coos asking me if I needed their help to warm up and jokes about them being so good in bed women were jumping at the chance and willing to move in with them immediately to lock it down.

The rain got harder as I clenched my fist, glaring daggers at them and trying to subtly move faster. Everything about my body language screamed 'don't fuck with me', but it's hard to be intimidating when you're a generous 5'3. They advanced anyways and with a woosh, they all got tossed back into the brick wall, hard. The crack of a few skulls echoed down the empty alley, interrupted only by their groans as a few immediately came to.

The tingling on the back of my neck got more intense, this time joined by a fuzzy feeling alarm in the back of my brain. I hustled along, eager to get the hell out of Queens. I hadn't taken more than three steps when I heard him. “Woah, what was that? I webbed up those guys back there, they won't be able to move for a few hours. What was that though, can you like manipulate energy or is this outside the realm of earthly physics? Are you an alien? Or a mutant maybe? Or..."

Without looking up I sent another blast towards the overly excited voice and immediately heard an oomph followed by the sound of a body rushing towards the pavement. Or, rather, a dumpster.

“Hey not cool,” said the guy, poking his head up and out of the dumpster.

I groaned, immediately recognizing the mask, despite it being covered in what looked a lot like smashed avocado on the left side of the heroes head. Spider-Man.

Pushing my bags together, around my feet, I bound them to myself and alighted on the nearest rooftop, gently floating upward. I figured the enhanced cat was already out of the bag with the current company, so to speak. I ran along the flat roofs of the decrepit, abandoned buildings with still no destination in mind but out.

“Wait up, where are you going, stop! We're friends now right? It's rude to ignore your friends, and I'm the friendliest of friends, you know. Friendly neighborhood Spider-Man and all...” he babbled on lamely, his voice fading in and out as he swung between buildings, keeping up as I hopped from roof to roof.

“Buzz off buggy”, I grumbled before sending another shot his way.

“You’re really bad at paying attention to where I am, aren’t you” Spidey suddenly whispered in my ear. I shrieked and came to a halt, dropping my luggage next to me as I sat to dangle my feet off the ledge of whatever shitty building I was on now. As expected, that lanky ass fool sat down right next to me.

“So, where are you going, miss uh… strange power lady?”

“I don’t kno-” I cut myself off and looked at him strangely. “Wait, why are you even here?”

“Well funny story," he huffed out, looking over at me. His masked eyes contracted as he continued to just look at me in silence for several minutes. I was seconds away from physically shoving him off of the building. For someone who apparently couldn't keep his mouth shut when I wanted him to, he was as silent and one of those monks now when I actually wanted to hear his whiny voice. Then, just as I was about to snap, he lifted his chin and squared his shoulders.

"Have you ever heard of the Avengers?”

Like any normal person on the planet, I obviously had. I may not have been in New York while it was being leveled by aliens over a decade ago, but a person would have to be seriously deprived of outside stimuli to not know who the Avengers were.

Instead of speaking to the impertinent, entirely too perky Avenger at my side, I just glared, sending a message loud enough that even the most inept individual would comprehend me.

“Woah, woah, don’t shoot! You could be like, a really weird and reclusive alien for all I know at this point. The boss didn’t exactly give me all the details when he sent me out to trail you. I don’t even know your name, which tells me that we actually don’t know a whole lot about you…,” he trailed off his rambling as he finally realized I was now staring at him expectantly, waiting to get a word in edgewise.

“My name is Kaida, and I’m not a good person. Also, thanks for the invitation to join your little cult, but I’m going to have to pass.” I stood to leave and find shelter for tonight when all of a sudden a schnick sounded and webbing surrounded my foot, holding me in place.

That sneaky little son of a bitch.

“No can do, we’re going to talk this one out. Either you agree to come in and meet the team or you get to sit here all night and listen to me ramble about them and what ridiculously stupid things we’ve all been up to in the past few months. Your call… Kaida.” He said my name as though it could take form, leap up and bite him.

“Okay Spider, I see you want to play hardball. You take that mask off and I’ll come with you to ‘meet the team’ or whatever touchy-feely bullshit y’all are into over there. But I’m not agreeing without some kind of skin in the game other than my own.” I lifted my chin, triumphantly, secure in the knowledge that he would never reveal his identity to a complete stranger, especially while various factions of the government and private entities were trying to round up enhanced individuals.

Spidey scoffed. “That’s it? It’s not like I was going to leave it on once we got to the tower anyways so, here you go I guess,” and he ripped away his mask as though it didn’t faze him in the slightest.

He was… younger than I had expected. Cute, in a safe, boring schoolboy kind of way.

“What are you, twelve??” I all but shouted at him. There’s no way this kid was the real deal, a bona fide Avenger that had helped save numerous lives, my own included if you count what happened just a few years back.

“I’m twenty-two, thanks though. If I’m twelve, I’ve gotta say you’re a toddler. Granted, a toddler with wicked skills but it’s not like you’re even really an adult at this point, are you? Why aren’t you with your pare-.”

“For one thing, they’re dead. Secondly, I’m twenty but I guarantee you I’ve seen shit that you can’t really even comprehend. Even outside of all the crazy whack alien bullshit you all seem to be attracting. It really ages a person, or so I’ve heard.”

“Oh look at you, pulling the big bad ‘I’m so tough because I’m an orphan and my life wasn’t sunshine and roses’ act. Literally, everyone has bad shit happen to them. From what I’ve just seen and from what we’ve caught on security monitors, you’re wickedly talented and could actually use your powers to help others. Unless you’re too much of a coward, I know we do deal with ‘crazy whack aliens’ and all, but it shouldn’t be hard for a big kid like yourself, huh?”

I had half a mind to blow him off the roof right then and there. Rage swirled in the pit of my gut so violently, I might have vomited had I eaten at all in the past day or so. The wind picked up and began buffeting around the Spider guy and myself, throwing debris from decrepit roof and buildings towards us. All of the shrapnel conveniently avoided my person, but Spidey was dancing back and forth like a puppet on a string.

Deep breaths Kaida, deep breaths. We wouldn’t want another Wizard of Oz-esque incident. Again. I often found myself talking to myself in different perspectives to calm down. Anger, improperly channeled was a very dangerous thing for me, and honestly, I was being a brat just like he was. No need to level an entire city block just for this one intrusive, presumptuous asshat who dressed up like a fucking spider. I wasn’t about to tell him that though.

The wind died down almost immediately. Until it didn’t.

Not a minute later, the biggest bolt of lightning I’d ever seen struck a building a block or so away, no doubt short-circuiting every device plugged in at that residence. Two seconds later there was a solid thunk and next to Spider-Man loomed perhaps the most handsome being in the known universe, Thor. King of Asgard.

“You hit your panic button Man of Spiders. Are you in need of assistance… carrying bags?” Thor looked at you, tied down, and your bags tossed askew, then back at Spidey. Quizzically, he opened his palm and sent a burst of lightning up into the sky, as if looking for something. “All seems to be in perfectly good spirits here, no strange magics… so.”

“Listen, man, two minutes ago she was literally shaking the building so hard I thought we were all going down. I just don’t know how… all I did was ask her some questions, maybe play hardball with her a little,” he just shrugged at the god apologetically.

“Hi, I exist too, and I can speak for myself,” I asserted, repositioning my body so I wasn’t standing quite so hunched over. “We,” I continued, looking at Spidey, “would love your assistance in getting my bags back to wherever this team inspection or meeting is supposed to happen.” Anything to get inside and secure, before I lost it completely.

“As you wish, Lady of the Winds,” Thor almost yelled, thrusting a cane into the sky.

“No, Thor wai-.”

Before the insect could finish whatever he was trying to say, we were engulfed in a kaleidoscope of bright colors and rushed away in the blink of an eye.

So much for having a normal, Wednesday evening.

If you’d like to be tagged in future chapters (I have 28 written) drop me a message or reblog this!! As always, reblogs and comments are appreciated!

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