#i was scrolling through all the figures hes designed so far and while he did make an elektra one it was when they weren't that well made

[theswordwizard]

as much as i love being a marvel hater I have decided if we get a Yamashita bishoujo figure of daredevil from it somehow I'll never say a bad word about it again

[stellamalonesolaria]

BTS Kim Taehyung X Reader X Jeon Jungkook FF | see through me | oneshot

pairing: model!kim taehyung x fangirl!reader. slight jungkook x reader. slight jimin x reader.

genre: obsessive love au, angst, age gap au

warning: minors dni as the post contains: violence, sexual violence, gore, foul language, drugs usage, nsfw: nipple play, masturbation, cock sucking.

word count:

11,419 words 62,280 characters

what was i listening to: click here

author's note: have not proofread, kindly ignore any sort of grammatical or spelling error in the story. hope you enjoy this fic.

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At the benevolent age of nine, when kids continue watching their favourite cartoons, you’re introduced to fashion magazines by your best friend Evie who has been dreaming of becoming a model before she could even learn how to walk and because of her you’ve been obsessed with dresses ever since.

At the age of ten, while you’re trying out the new clothes bought by your mom, who appears to have the exact opposite taste in fashion as you, you’re also scrolling through one of the newly released magazines. As you go through the pages covering the latest articles containing information about some of the finest designs in the world along with their creators, you stumble across, a young model, who looks like he’s in his late teens, absolutely captivating your attention with his beguiling style and looks. You glance at the far-end corner of the page, locating his name, as you read out loud ‘Kim Taehyung.’, a name that would be inscribed within your heart for life.

At the age of eleven, when the young model turns legal, you read a tabloid on your mother’s phone, stating how Kim Taehyung, the person you’ve started admiring, will start out his career as an aspiring actor. You read the comments on the web article praising him for his aspiring acting venture, some even thirsting over him due to his swoon worthy looks at such a vulnerable age. Some calling him their daddy, perplexing you with the fact that he’s a father of so many girls. A smile forming on your delicate features as you now fantasise him appearing on television now.

At the age of twelve, you’ve collected many pictures and photo cards of your beloved then-model now-actor Kim Taehyung. You have your first celebrity crush as your cheeks turn a scarlet shade of red whenever his scenes come up on the netflix show you binge watch with your mother in which he’s starring. Your parents think how adorable you’re with your little crush on the prominent figure in the entertainment industry right now.

At the age of thirteen, your best friend Evie confesses her crush on the aforementioned actor, you feel a pang of jealousy that day, realising that the feelings you harboured for the actor are more than a mere crush your parents like to title your adoration for him. You return home and decide to keep your love a secret from your parents and Evie, fearing they’d not understand if you did tell them.

At the age of fourteen, you’re exposed to the dark web, your other friend Jason introduced you to the site saying that he found hard core porn on here. At first, you were skeptical of dark web but with your growing infatuation with the actor and the multiple posters and collages of his cut out pictures on your wall, all the fan fictions on tumblr not being able to satisfy your increasing thirst for him, the urge to have him, you have had to resort to this mystic side of the internet now. You’ve found over a million shirtless pics of him on the dark web but you seemingly want more. As you surf through the illegal webpages, you find an ai generated porn site, which contains nude pictures of celebrities created by artificial intelligence. You now feel perverted as you shamelessly enter his name onto the search bar, as the site automatically and quickly generates your favourite’s naked photos. You feel yourself growing hot, your fingers sliding inside your panties as you masturbate by rubbing, slapping and inserting fingers inside your core. You curl your fingers inside your vagina while thinking of Taehyung, your walls perfectly grasping over your fingers. Oh how you wish, the fingers pleasuring your cunt were not yours but his instead.

At the age of fifteen, you’ve saved enough money to bid for Taehyung’s hair strand on an illegal auction site. You’re sold his hair strand at the cost of 10,000 dollars, exceeding your budget but you’d never back down when it comes to him, you’ve compulsively rewatched his shows and movies over a hundred times and even cursed out his female co stars on internet forums for establishing such a close relationship with him. You’ve also targeted the actresses he was being shipped with by sending them death threats so you’ve had to have his Dna with you, even if it’s through a hair strand, at any cost. You use your dad’s credit card to pay for the highest bid you entered, transaction going unbeknownst to him.

At the age of age of sixteen, your obsession dies down after being sued by the actresses for cyber bullying and your grades falling down. You’ve to momentarily stop fan girling over the charming actors to excel in school. As time goes on, you lose interest in Kim Taehyung, slowly letting go of your obsession and after a while, you’re being confessed to by a sweet boy, Jimin, whose feelings you start to reciprocate due to his compassionate and tender nature. His facial characteristics are remarkable as well, he could easily start out his idol career with his angel like voice gifted to him by almighty. You both start dating immediately after the confession, going on little dates where you doll up yourself by caking your face with makeup, adorning yourself with pearls accentuating your beauty, taking his breath away. Few weeks into the relationship, on the auspicious occasion of Christmas, you both share a sweet kiss under the mistletoe, your lips quivering due to the adoration jimin pours into passionately kissing you, gently moulding your soul with his, serenading your soft plump lips with his love filled pecks. Your relationship with him seems to be going well, however, a few months later, as your friend Evie gets her first modelling gig for a colossal fashion corporation and Jimin gets into coaching for bagging the top universities, his eyes set on Wharton, you also get busy with your studies, slowly drifting away from him, it hasn’t affected you much at first as you both called each other frequently. Gradually, those calls have also become infrequent, leading to you becoming distant from him, this ultimately resulting in frustration due to festering of unresolved skirmishes. You both started to hate each other with time due to improper communication problems in your relationship with him. Many weeks have passed by with you and him holding grudges against each other over every fight you both have had in the past. Now with your seventeenth birthday approaching, you’re planning to sort things out with him and be the reasonable one this time for the sake of your birthday. You plan to text him to meet you soon but you’re taken aback when he texts you first asking you to visit him in the evening. The following evening, you go meet him in the park, chirping because you’re happy he’s the initiating to resolve your conflicts with him and he does the exact opposite, contrary to what you’ve hoped for, he breaks up with you instead, you fall on to the ground, kneeling down, as those words leave his lips with no hesitation, you spiral into a melancholic state as tears pool near your eyes, silently wishing for the earth to rip into two halves and swallow you whole. This is like a dagger plunged through your heart, you let out a shriek, a painful whisper of the aching heart Jimin left you with, you watch him leave you in doldrum, you get up on your feet, trying to regain strength to walk back to your place, after you’re done crying for him in the park. Few days have passed since the heartbreaking separation from your beloved, which has still left you burning and ceasing into ashes as the pain is too much to endure.

Your friend Evie visits you during a short break from her modelling career, seeing you in a devastatingly pathetic state because of Jimin, she gasps, “Y/n babe who died?”, she asks concern evident in her tone, “Jimin broke up with me.”, you respond your voice croaking as a faint whisper, “Oh no honey, we need to revamp you. That piece of shit is not worth your cries, oh no honey, I’m here for you, I’m so sorry for being so late.”, she comforts you as she coos into your ears, her words feel like a lullaby because her voice starts to soothe you down and ease your aching heart, “Thank you Evie”, you say sincerely, “Always here for you baby, you know what’ll cheer you up? Love Marathon on Netflix!”, she chirps trying to distract you via a drama, in which, your once beloved star Taehyung acts in as the second lead, “Sure”, you give out a small smile to her as she sets up a laptop in front of you and plays the first episode of the drama. Few hours later, Evie has fallen asleep on your bed while you’re watching the show’s sixth episode in which Kim Taehyung’s character is trying to convince the female lead into choosing him instead over the main male character after a messy breakup with the male lead. You watch him attentively as he says, “I promise if you choose me I’ll treat you much better than he ever did, please-“, to which the female lead responds, “Eun suk-ah, I love the male lead and I think I always will, even if he has hurt me or broken my heart countless times, I don’t think I’d be able to ever get over him.”, Taehyung sighs as he hears her, “You know what, you love him but you deserve to be with someone who makes you feel loved as well and not just leave you because you’re going through a rough patch, you deserve someone who is willing to fight for you no matter what.”, he says as you feel his eyes directly staring into yours through the screen as though he’s directing these words towards you with sincerity glinting in his eyes, his words deeply resonating with you which feels like a warm embrace to your soul, you feel like he’s hugging you figuratively with the words that leave his mouth, still staring into your eyes via the screen, he continues, “don’t give up on love because of one bad experience, you’ve me, always did, come back to me, I’ll heal you, you deserve all the love there is in the world.”, your heart skips a beat, Kim Taehyung slowly enveloping your senses again, your tears dry up as you feel a jolt of excitement, you pause the show as you get up and search through your drawers to find his hair strand which you had bought a little while back from the dark web, you gently whisper to him through the screen, “I’m never giving up on you Taehyung. I deviated from my love for you for a while but I’m back on track baby. You’re the first person who has ever taken my breath away. You’ve completely taken over me.”, you say as you feel an intravenous thrill within you, slowly, reviving the feelings and rush your ten year old felt when you first looked at him.

At the age of seventeen, you’re hell bent on becoming worthy of Kim Taehyung, you have seen a path after so long, you’re determined to make him all yours one day and for that you’re now willing to go to any extent and your first step being making yourself perfect. You try to achieve academic excellence first while you graduate high school. You’ve decided to get into Harvard and for that you over exhaust and over work yourself. You don’t sleep, don’t breathe, don’t eat, don’t socialise or do anything, you completely and solely focus on studying economics and your extracurricular competitions to get into Harvard with three months to your graduation. You study 22 hours a day and the rest of the 2 hours you participate in debates, you barely sleep a wink on the weekends, your only motivation being him and that is more than sufficient for you. You have finished your syllabus worth of four years in two months, you’ve excelled and aced in all the extracurricular competitions and activities you participated in, it was hard but you’ve a long way to go to get him. You’ve completely cut off contact with Evie due to your hectic study schedule, Harvard being your goal. You’ve exams this month and you’ve to score full, not even one mark should be deducted so that you could graduate with honours. You revise well, studying for 23 hours and sleeping for one hour only everyday. You keep yourself hydrated so that you do not pass out after so much work. You appear for your exams, trying to not even have one mark deducted from the perfect score you keep on aiming for as if your life depends on it, and it does, Kim Taehyung has become the sole reason you breathe this damned oxygen. Time passes by as your result day approaches, on your result day, your score card is handed to you, you compulsively open the sheet only to be faced with brimming disappointment after you see five marks being cut off, crushing your aim of achieving full marks. You’re devastated, and you’re panicking, life is unpredictable and you need to be ready with a plan B if you ever in your life have to draft a plan to achieve something and you’ve learnt this the hard way after the break up with Jimin, hence you’ve a back up plan ready although your breath still shortens and you still are paranoid but there is a way to still be on track to your way to Harvard; a recommendation letter from your professor, facing only one challenge though, the professor seems to despise you for some reason. The following day, you go upto the professor’s cabin requesting for him to pen you down a recommendation letter but he profusely declines, you raise an eyebrow, of course he wouldn’t budge like that, one think you’ve learnt from your past mistakes is to never back down, always keep on scheming, like the one time, even at the expense of 10,000 dollars for Taehyung’s hair strand, you have had gone to hell and back to earn that and now that Taehyung is the one at stake, what would you not do to get him, you’ll give up your life to get him. You hike up your skirt revealing your milky thighs, willing to seduce the professor if that is what it takes to help you go to Harvard, you unbutton your top, your cleavage visible enough to make any man walking by grow hot. You move towards your professor, showing off your collarbones and cleavage, letting him get a sight of your pink lace panties, “Do reconsider Mister Walter”, you say in a seductive tone, beads of sweat form on his forehead. You unbuckle his belt and go onto suck his cock that springs out of his pants as you pull his pants down. An hour passes by, you come out of his office, correcting your white top and bra to hide the hickeys covering your breasts, you’ve had slept with the professor, losing your virginity to him. You look at the recommendation letter, a step closer to the man of your dreams. You plaster a smile on your face as you read the letter. You apply to Harvard with all the accumulated prizes, grades and now the recommendation letter, confident you will get in.

On the day of the announcement of college application results, your mom drives you to the public library to get a print out of the Harvard letter. She reviews the printout as it comes out. She falls to the ground as she reads the words on it, tears escaping her eyes, you think, she must’ve been crying tears of happiness but your face falls down as you read the email. Harvard has rejected your application. You scream in agony, you’re frustrated, you tear the paper and crush it under your feet. It cannot be possible right? Tears brim down your face as you laugh in disbelief, you mom gets up on her feet as she comes to hug you trying to console you, “It’s okay baby, you can apply to another college, not getting into Harvard doesn’t equate to the end of the world okay?”, she says. Yes, not getting into Harvard would not be the end of the world but not getting Taehyung would kill you. You look at her and say, “do you not have a building you can donate to have me get into Harvard”, she looks at you and then laughs, “If I did, I wouldn’t be working a desk job, honey, I know you worked hard for this but there’s more to life than this, plus, you’ve the will, will can move mountains.”, she says as you roll your eyes not believing her words, you haven’t given up yet, no you would not, you try to come up with back up plans to get into Harvard, maybe a drop year could help. You get into the car with your mother as she drives you back to your place. On the way you notice, that the usual road to your place is under construction so your mother pulls back and onto another lane, with a little effort, even though she has taken a different path, but it’ll guide you to the same destination. Suddenly you’ve an epiphany, there are other ways to get Taehyung, plus getting into Harvard would’ve been an easy way to have him and you like challenges, the harder it becomes to make him yours, the more you start to yearn him, strengthening your love for him. As if luck is on your side, suddenly a pamphlet flies on to the glass pane of your window, you lower down your shades to obtain it, the advertisement/poster reads, ‘CASTING AUDITION FOR A KDRAMA FEMALE CHARACTER’, your brain devising and unlocking another route for you to obtain Taehyung i.e. to get into the same acting industry as him. You review the details on the poster, it has provided you the information on the venue and the audition dates a week from now.

“I want to be an actress!”, you announce startling your parents, “What?”, you dad asks with a puzzled look on his face, “I want to go audition for the female character role in a kdrama”, you state as he still looks at you confused, you hand him the pamphlet, “Drive me there on Wednesday.”, your dad thinks you’ve lost your mind but relates it to you trying to cope with the rejection you faced from Harvard a while ago. He reluctantly agrees.

Wednesday has come,

you’re done hiking your skirt to a level where your underwear is blatantly visible to everyone, you cake your face with makeup, you straighten your hair and get your nails done. You’re all set for the casting audition. Your father has a disproving look on his face as he sees your attire but chooses not to say anything since you’ve turned the legal age. He drives you to your destination, it is an amphitheatre and there is a long queue with many girls who are dressed in a similar clothing as you, they’re wanting to chase after fame while you chase after Taehyung, you guys are pretty similar but with different wants and needs after all. Hours pass by, you keep on retouching your makeup, you mentally prepare yourself, trying to look luscious and confident. Your name is called after what feels like an eternity, you correct your hair and enter the casting room. As you enter the hall with the casting director seated behind the judgement panel, he looks at you and whispers something to the lady. She laughs a little looking you up and down while you choose to ignore the duo. They hand you the script and ask for you to read from it. You pour your passion and emotions to it, remembering why you got into acting in the first place. They look pretty impressed by your acting skills or so you think. You bow down to them feeling successful as the lady says to you, “We’ll call you to let you know whether you’ve gotten the part or not”, this excites you as you hum on your way out of the hall. The other girls think you’ve got the part looking at how you brim with ecstasy.

Days pass by but you receive no phone call, you’ve attempted to call the casting director a few times but again heard no response from them. This disappoints you as you panic. Your mother sees you in this painstakingly position, “Y/n I think you should apply to other universities now.”, she states, “We cannot keep on supporting your rendezvous for life”, you look at her with a frown, “Just a few days before they call me, I promise they will call.”, you mother just shakes her head and leaves. A week later, after calling them a gazillion times, you go to the amphitheater, to see the lady who was present there when you took the audition that day. You run after her as she notices you coming towards her, she’s panic stricken. You slow down your pace to ease her out. You bow down to her as she nods her head in acknowledgment. “Why did I not receive a call?”, you ask with a burning heart. “That means you were not eligible for the role.”, she says with a nervous face, “The look on your faces said otherwise the day I auditioned”, you say not believing her words which annoys her. “Maybe it’s the problem with how you look, you do not fit the beauty standards, your nose is too big and your jaw is too broad.”, she says in the most condescending way ever, fuming you but you choose to remain silent, you bow to her one last time and head out. You come back home after hailing a taxi. Your mother looks at you as you enter, “Welcome home.”, she says, you ignore her greeting and go upto your room, you know your parents won’t provide you with the money needed for plastic surgery, yes, you’ve been considering plastic surgery, you’ve to look like you’re worthy of Taehyung as well, your brain never stops working, you’re determined to achieve any height to get him to be all yours.

You pack your bags the very same day and announce to your parents that you’ll be living independently from now on, they look surprised and ask you the reason behind such a hasty decision, you just bow to them and walk out.

There's

the red zone in Busan, miles away from the city you’ve had been residing in, which operates a prostitution ring, you’re headed there to earn money for the cosmetic surgeries you want to get done.

You catch the first train to Busan. You reach the brothel where your now colleagues are residing. You greet one of the older women there who has a disgruntled look on her face as she views your face. She invites you inside and hands you a lingerie that you need to wear at all times. Your nipples are visible through the light material, your milky thighs look radiant exposed like that, the only thing that’s properly covered would be your core, your butt is half visible for the men to walk by and get a good look. The rule at the brothel is simple, the more men you’re able to lure to your bed, the more money you make but there’s a rule that 50% of your income must go to the older lady who just handed you the laced lingerie as she is the head here. You stand leaning on the door of your assigned room as you wait for men to enter the red light area. After a while, a man comes in, ladies trying to seduce him, he ignores them all as he lays his eyes on you, you’re beautiful, he comes near you and gently rubs your nipples, you think you’ve captured your first prey, your first client who is decent looking and not that old but he soon leaves you feeling empty as he enters the room beside you, all that nipple play for nothing, you grunt in annoyance. Your first client turns out to be an old geezer who frequently visits the brothel, the second old man you’ve sex with, but anything to get your goal, The old man fucks you relentlessly, but you ensure that he has a wrap on while he does that. Time flies by, as more men visit your room to fuck your brains out. You earn a lot of money but half of what you get goes to the older lady, annoying you, you’ve still not accumulated enough money to fund your surgery and weeks have gone by. You start to bear grudges against other ladies who increasingly taunt you since you’re able to bed more men than them and you also grow tired of the older lady who takes away majority of your money and keeps it to herself. This happens for two more months before you snap, you cannot wait any longer, so you barge into the olden lady’s room who seems to be taking a nap on her bed. She is able to afford a beautifully decorated chair next to her thanks to the money you earn. You tip toe to the place where the chair is kept. You slowly lift the chair up and using all your force you start hitting her face with it. You’ve gone berserk as you keep on shoving the lady’s face with the wooden chair, brutally killing her. She doesn’t even get the time to scream to save her life as you not so helplessly kill her. You drag her body to the bath tub, and run the tap over her face, washing the blood off of her. You wash your hand and mop the floor with bleach leaving no blood stains, you also wash the bed sheet containing the lady’s blood with bleach. You then subtly open the safe in her room with a key that she always holds, even while sleeping, you quickly grab the money and jewellery kept in the safe as you run away with the money out of the brothel.

You hide your face with a black scarf so that no one identifies you from Busan, especially the men whom you’ve slept with. You’re on your way to Gangnam, the capital city of plastic surgery. You go to a goldsmith and sell off the gold jewellery in exchange for a lot a money.

You’ve researched enough about plastic surgeons in the city and there resided many to help you out with getting prettier. You phone one of the numbers inscribed in the phone book containing all of plastic surgery clinics’ numbers. The receptionist picks up your phone, giving you a slot for your appointment tomorrow. The following morning, you get ready with the money in a black bag. You head out for your appointment to the designated office of the surgeon. You arrive before your appointed time. You plop yourself on the velvet couch in the waiting area as you look at the clock waiting for your turn. You yawn a bit getting tired waiting when suddenly the receptionist calls out your name. You get excited as you tread one step closer to making Kim Taehyung yours. You enter the doctor’s cabin. It is evident that the doctor himself has gone under the knife with his alluring features and facial harmony. You take a seat in front of Doctor Kim Seokjin as he looks at you, scanning your face, trying to formulate a facial correction plan in his mind.

"

So Ms Y/n, what are your worries?”, he says in a gentle tone. “Doctor, my nose is too big, my jaw is too broad, my eyes feel droopy and my boobs they are too small. I want to feel pretty.”, you say genuinely, Jin looks at your face once again as he hums. He takes out a notepad and starts scribbling on it, “I understand where your concerns lie Ms Y/n but these are a lot of procedures so they will cost a lot and you’ll have to maintain a certain diet and exercise regularly if you get them done or you’ll relapse to your old form in a desolated manner.”, he says administrating you a mixture of medicines for you to consume after the procedures are done. “Okay Doctor Kim, so when can i come for these surgeries now?”, you ask to which he responds, “In a week, I will have to analyse your facial features and then accordingly operate on you.”

A week passes by, you’re sat on the velvet sofa yet again waiting for your turn to come. The receptionist once again announces your name for your meeting with the doctor but this time you’re led to an operation room. You’re asked to change into a loose hospital attire. After you’re done changing, you’re asked to lie down on the stretcher prominently placed in the middle of the operating room, you adhere to their instructions and position yourself horizontally on the bed. Doctor Jin comes in wearing his surgical mask and cap and a robe as well. While preparing the surgical apparatus, you’re informed that you’ll be undergoing ‘Rhinoplasty, buccal fat removal, double eyelid surgery as well as breast augmentation surgical procedure’. You’re given a hefty dose of drugs to make you have a deep slumber while the doctors and surgeons operate on you.

Post surgery hours are critical for any patient and you’re no exception to it. You’ve bandages wrapped around your face and your chest. A nurse tends to you as you lay down on the bed assigned to you. The nurse gives you medicines. You’ve paid for the surgery beforehand so you need not worry about the after care that follows. You’ll be subjected to bedrest for almost a month before your body starts healing the scars and recuperates the changes on your face and body. You’re under 24/7 supervision of the doctors till then.

A month flows by quickly, you bow down to doctor Seokjin for his services as he nods in return. You go to the place you’ve rented for a while. You go up to your room’s washroom to look at your new face endearingly. A pretty face surely does make everything better. You take a day off and rest as the following day you’ll return back to your hometown and meet the amphitheater lady again.

The following morning, you wake up, admiring your ‘fixed’ face in front of the mirror. You’re all set to leave for your hometown. You catch a train from Gangnam back to your residential area. You get inside a cab as soon as you depart the train station, you guide the driver to the location of the amphitheater.

Once you reach the venue, you step inside the multipurpose hall. You’re not surprised to see the lady sitting on a chair reviewing forms for another casting audition for another project. You go upto her and wave your hand in front of her face to grab her attention. She looks at you, her focus entirely on your being now. Her eyes widen as she recognises you and the altercations you’ve made to your face and chest as her eyes ogle at your enlarged breasts. “So you were saying shit about my face, how it is the reason as to why I was disqualified, so, I corrected it”, you say with a bizarre grin on your face, almost scaring off the lady in front of you. She regains her composure from petrified to one who is succumb to all kinds of weird because she works in a theatre and art is weird, precisely. “Oh honey, you still won’t get the role”, she looks at you pitiful even though she seems quite impressed with your persistence to become an actress, unbeknownst to the real cause of your actions, “Why not?”, you squeal disappointment evident in your voice, “I’m willing to go to any lengths to become an actress, I’m determined and ambitious, I promise.”, you try to persuade her but she just has a sympathetic frown directed towards you, “I’ll be honest with you, I appreciate your sincerity but darling, it wasn’t just your face, your connection matters too, the one who usually gets the acting role needs to have a reputable background and a wide network to help fund the production unit if ever required and clearly since you hadn’t even been to college, no matter how persistent you are, no director will choose you, that’s the bitter reality”, she states it in a sad tone, desolating any chances you’ve had in acting, of course, you’ve known how important connections are, precisely why you wanted to go to Harvard, you look at her while your brain is racing to find another solution to help you achieve your goal to have your beloved man all to yourself, that is until, the lady continues, “Although there is a way, you can broaden your contacts”, you look at her with glint of hope in your eyes, “What is it?”, you ask desperation visible in your voice, “The Movie Mafia”, she states simply, “Movie mafia? like the underworld gangsters who fund the films in exchange of sexual appeasement?”, you ask as she just nods, “How do I meet them?”, you ask and she just slouches her shoulders as an indication that it’s for you to discover. You sigh and bow to her as a token of gratitude for opening another way for you.

.

You know you’re willing to do anything so you log into dark web, memories from when you have had been fourteen and masturbating to Taehyung’s pictures, fresh in your brain, you feel blood rushing to your cheeks at the thought of it. ‘Focus Y/n’, your brain screams at you and you internally scold yourself for getting distracted at the thought of Taehyung. You open a web page on the dark web which discusses the movie mafia, you enter your query—inquiring their location, you wait for a bit before you receive a text notification from a stranger on your messages who is requesting for money from you in exchange of the movie mafia’s address. You immediately oblige to his condition and send him the amount asked by him. He sends you the location in return. You immediately hail a cab so that you could go to the prescribed venue.

Upon reaching there, you stumble across a dark valley, your instincts directing you through the alley, your gut tells you that you’ll find the ‘movie mafia’ there. You find a small door engraved within the walls, as you’re about to open the door, a small voice startles you, “What are you trying to do”, the voice states, “I want to get in and meet someone inside.”, you respond, “I see”, that’s all the voice says before the person, who’s had been previously talking to you, kicks open the door, “there you go”, he says, “Thank you”, you say smiling ear to ear.

You enter via the door to see a few men arm wrestling, while few of them doing coke and a few of the others fucking women out in the open. Your attention is solely focused on the only one who stands out from them, presumably, the leader.

Everybody stops doing what they do as they hear their leader speak in a hoarse voice, “Who are you? How did you get in here?”, he asks, you ignore his questions as you look at him, “I want to become an actress”, you say as you grin at him, weirding him out, “Ok and?”, he says curtly, “Make me one”, you simply say as you take the seat beside him, reducing the proximity between you two, “Why the fuck would I do that?”, he spits, you start undressing, you unbutton your blouse, revealing your bra, as you go onto unstrap your bra, you say “Because I’m hot as fuck”, you say as you throw your bra away on the ground, now sitting topless in front of him, the other men stare at your breasts shamelessly, some even drooling a bit while the leader remains unfazed, “I’ve seen hotter bitches than ya’, that too natural ones, I know silicon implants when I see ‘em”, he says making you frown, “Is that so?”, you simply whisper, “Now get the fuck out of here before I fucking shoot your head”, he says and you do not comply, you will not give up, your will is enough to move mountains, “I’ll do anything, I’m determined to become an actress, I’ll fucking even clean up your dirty laundry and help you out with whatever fucking business you have, I’m willing to cross any boundaries, go to any lengths as long as it promises my acting career’s stability.” you say as the leader raises an eyebrow in amusement, “Anything?”, he says softly, “‘Kay, Jaemin, take her and teach this whore a lesson.”, he says, you’re ready for whatever life throws at you because you’ve only one destiny i.e. Taehyung and you’re willing to mortgage off your soul to the devil for this. Jaemin proceeds towards, as he picks you up on his back unannounced, you immediately clutch on his hair as you bite his ear off with force, astonishing both him and the leader, blood oozing out of his earlobe as he puts you down in panic, you spit out his flesh from your mouth, “Anything.”, you say, answering his question. The leader shoots Jaemin on spot, “Hanbin and Lee Know, don’t disappoint me”, as the leader says this, you see a man approaching you, while the other surprises you by grabbing your exposed breasts, this maddens you, you kick the man who has his hands over your breasts in the stomach, you notice a screwdriver in his pocket, which you swiftly take out, this doesn’t go unnoticed by the other man who is standing in front of you, he plunges forward to punch you in the face, you’re able to dodge his attack, you then smack his head, which annoys him, meanwhile the man who held your breasts, comes out in front of you and slaps you and kicks you in the stomach, you fall down and start laughing as the other man grabs you by your hair while the sexual offender keeps on slapping you, you stab the other man’s hand with the screwdriver, you insert it and then rotate it while it is in his skin, the man screams in agony, loosening his hold on your hair, you then stand up quickly and punch the sexual offender in the face as he falls down on the ground due to the brute force, you kick his filthy hands that touched you without your consent repeatedly, you then gauge his eyes out with the screw-diver, laughing maniacally, the other man who was too busy catering to his injured hand now comes to you, to save his colleague but before he does that, you slip to his behind and then stab his neck, killing him on spot. Your moves have impressed the leader while you continue tormenting the disgusting man who touched you, you neuter him with the bloodied screw driver. , the leader silently spectates it before shooting the latter.

.

The leader’s three men died humiliatingly after being defeated by an insane woman. “I believe you now woman”, the leader says, “‘Tis Namjoon, welcome to the club”, you smile as he introduces himself, “Y/n, sorry about the three men by the way”, you say as you bow to him, “Don’t mind them”, “So now you’ll make me an actress?I’m ready to do anything.”, you ask, he nods his head, “But under one condition, you’ve to successfully complete this mission for me, then i’d make you a star.”, he says, you nod happily, “Okay what’s the mission? I can go now!”, you say hastily, “Calm the fuck down. You’re not trained for it yet, Sang-min, here will train you for a month before your mission, if you achieve what I’ve planned for you, consider yourself as a successful movie star in the entertainment industry”, he spits to which you oblige.

You step inside your assigned dormitory where you’ll be living with Moon Sang-Min, an actor himself, who’ll train you for your mission a month later as well as help you improve your acting skills and PR behaviour.

The next morning, you’ve water splashed on your face at 3 am, you shriek, only to see Sang-Min sitting on your bed with bucket in his hands, he picks you up from the bed and throws you onto the floor, “The fuck man?!”, you say clearly fuming, “your training starts now”, he says nonchalantly, you immediately regain your composure as you stand up straight. He instructs you to run fifty kilometres and you comply, you run around fifty kilometres in two hours, doing anything to get Kim Taehyung. He engages you in intense warming up and workout sessions, you both hit the gym and use the gym machineries to strengthen your muscles and core, you also do boxing with him as he teaches you new moves and orders you to perform them on him. The next thing he does is take you to a shooting ring, where he teaches you as to how to shoot and hold the gun, you’re startled by the loud noise at first even though you’re wearing noise cancelling headphones but gradually as each bullet pierces through the target board, you get used to it. The next thing he does surprises you, he torments you by tying you to a chair and beating you to pulp and then instructs you to escape this set up, you first are unable to but then he teaches you various techniques to help you get out of miscellaneous scenarios. You’re then expected to learn all forms of swimming methodologies and you’re forced to learn taekwondo moves on the same day as all this. At last to give you a peaceful closure to this rigorous training he put you through, he trains you in the field of acting, introducing you to various forms of articulation of emotions on your canvas of a face. You both call it a day as you step into the shower for a quick bath and are expected to fall asleep in five minutes at 1 am during night time.

The

next day, Sang min again wakes you up at 3 am. Gradually, as weeks pass, you get used to this hectic and intense indoctrination. Your inculcation ranging from getting drowned, electrocuted, shot to becoming a black belt in taekwondo, running hundred kilometres in half an hour, mastering swimming techniques and learning how to act gracefully while maintaining a good reputation online and how social media management would be the most effective way to become a leading figure in the industry to expand your influence over the general public, you learnt all this thanks to the tutelage provided by Moon Sang-min.

A month has passed by and you haven’t even felt it pass by so quickly as you were too engaged with getting ready for the mission. You pat yourself on the back as you get one more step closer to your destination (being Kim Taehyung).

“I see ‘em muscles on you.”, Namjoon says honestly, “Kudos to Sang-min for training me”, you say as you smile sheepishly. Namjoon guides you to a secret room where there’s a screen and a projector, he takes out a stick as he signals for one of his henchmen to turn on the projector. The white screen has an image of an old man on it. Namjoon points his stick at the old man. “He’s your target”, he says, you listen to him intently as you scribble down the details he narrates to you regarding the mission. “You’ll be seducing this man as a hostess of our club to the VIP room where you have to tie him up to a chair and electrocute him.”, he says, “Sounds easy”, you state, “‘Til you hear about his tight security, he could be having sex with ya’ and have his men watch it. Your fight is not against this old geezer but actually against the army of men he roams around with. Can I rely on ya?”, he asks, now sounding serious, “Absolutely!”, you chirp, this man doesn’t scare you, in fact, if it took for you to defeat his gigantic swamp of pics to get Taehyung, you’d exactly do that.

You’re wearing a black satin dress which hugs your curves and accentuates your cleavage, bringing prominence to your enlarged breasts. You’ve applied ample amount of makeup on your face, lastly putting on a cherry red lipstick to make yourself look enticing. You wear a gold pendant to put emphasis on your slender collarbones. You’ve hidden a laser tag, rope and a small gun under your dress. You also have liquid phosgene and chloroform in small bottles in case of emergency. You’re taken to the host club via a black jeep. You retouch your makeup and hair before entering as a hostess.

Time flies by, while waiting for the old geezer, your target. He finally arrives after what seems like an eternity to you. You roll your eyes but after the amazing acting sessions by Sang-min, you’re able to masquerade your bored expressions with the one that is usually possessed by a seductress. You walk up to the man, purposely swinging your hips to draw attention to your ass, you see him surrounded by ten bodyguards and seven ladies. You serve drinks to his men, out of which, only five seem to accept the drinks offered by you. You get noticed by the old man whose attention you intended to grab, by serving drinks to his men. He invites you over to sit on his lap, you smile at him enticingly as you lean down, making him have glimpse of your nipples through your exposed cleavage window, you sit on his lap and start stroking his dick, he starts growing hot, you guide his fingers to inside your dress, he plays with your clothed nipples, now wanting to lick and suckle on them as well, he removes your sleeve off one of your shoulders, you gently hold his hands and your fingers point upstairs, showing him the VIP room where he could have you whole, he licks his lips and asks his men to follow you and him to the exclusive room, unbeknownst to the smirk that’s slightly playing on your lips as you’re able to successfully lure him into the room.

As you’re about to enter the luxurious VIP room, the five men whom you served drinks suddenly faint and fall down onto the floor, the other men get alert while you’ve to quickly jump into action so you immediately put a cloth sprayed with chloroform over the old man’s mouth causing him to faint, you immediately tie him up with the agility and speed you acquired through the training, as soon as the other five men who were tending to the fainted men, get up and look at you tying their boss, they set into attack you. One of the guys tries to punch you which you dodge gracefully as you form a full circle with your leg and kick his leg causing him to fall down on his knees due to the incinerated injury, the second man then approaches you with a gun, you kick the gun out of his hand as you electrocute him and cause him to faint, you kick the first man again, now in the balls and then shoot him in the head, killing him on spot, the third and the fourth men attack you at the same time, you’re able to successfully escape their punches while you attempt to kick their stomachs and punch them in their face simultaneously, you shoot them as well, killing them on spot, the last standing man, jumps at you, causing you to fall down, you both keep on rolling over each other, trying to gain dominance over the other, then you suddenly grab his hair and feed him the bottle of phosgene, killing him on spot as well. Namjoon arrives a while later while you’re looking at your freshly manicured nails. Namjoon looks at how you’ve successfully accomplished your task and then pats your back, you look at him while he does that, “I don’t want felicitations, I want to act.”, you state with a poker face, Namjoon nods his head and says, “Tomorrow morning, meet me in the same hall as the day we discussed your mission”, you nod in return.

The following morning, you dress up extra as you’re excited to finally come miles closer to Taehyung. You can’t wait to achieve your goal and as you become closer to your aim, your heart starts failing due to overloaded excitement and thrill.

Namjoon is seated on one of the black chairs wearing a suit, he looks at you as you enter the room, you sit on the seat beside him. “So what now?”, you say excitedly, he takes out a picture of a young man in front of you, “You’re going to seduce him now.”, he says, you frown at his words, “Is this another mission?”, you ask, he shakes his head, “No, sleeping with him will make you a star”, he says, “So I just have to sleep with him?”, you innocently ask, he again shakes his head, “If only it was that easy, you need to record yourself sleeping with him and then blackmail him to cast you in one of his projects.”, he says, surprising you, “I’ve to record a porno now?”, you say slightly fluttered, “…and use that as your ticket to K-entertainment industry.”, he finishes speaking. “Where do I find this man though?”, you ask, “You’ll know soon don’t worry sweetheart.”, he says.

And you do get to know where you’ll locate him, you’re now sitting right next to him at a bar as he’s looking at scripts of his future projects. He is a director after all. You’re wearing a revealing red dress, your cleavage prominently visible, your milky thighs exposed to the man. You’re just waiting for the workaholic to notice you. Although he is known for sleeping around but right now he’s too engrossed with his work. You’ve to somehow distract him from his work. What a perfect plan to incorporate your ideas as well. Your glass slips out of your hand, spilling juice on his glasses, he is bound to look up at you now, but to your surprise, he still doesn’t, that’s when you come up with an impromptu plan to clean his glasses, you suddenly tap on his shoulders, he looks at you stunned by your beauty, you then speak to him, “Kind sir, may I wipe the juice droplets that trickled down to your glasses?”, you ask politely, your voice soft, he melts as he slowly complies to your request, you flash a smile to him while you take his glasses in your hand and wipe them using your handkerchief. You both then engage in a conversation at the bar, where he’s telling you how his name is Jungkook and that he’s a director and you’re telling him how you’re an aspiring author, your inspiration being L.J. Smith. He seems pretty into you by now. You stare into his eyes before capturing his lips into a small sweet kiss which he reciprocates, his lust, clear as crystal. You both make out till you reach out of the club, he phones his driver to get his car, you both silently walk up to his car, where he helps you sit. He kisses you there as well in the car, his spectacles sometimes clashing with your nose bridge making you chuckle. you reach his apartment and as you’re about to enter, he stops you. He makes you remove your dress in front of him in the corridor before letting you in his house, he also ensures that you have kept your small purse outside his door. After this, he pounces on you like a beast, devouring you. He puts his glasses on a night table in front of the bed in which he’s about to take you in wholly. After you both are done with your intense love making session, with his hickeys painted all over your body, he asks you to leave, that surprises you a bit but you do as he says, you get out of his apartment and step into your dress outside his gate.

The following morning, Jungkook receives an email from an unknown sender, he immediately opens the mail out of burning curiosity but that turns out to be his biggest regret ever as he’s met with the video of him fucking you on the bed. In one of the scenes, he’s seen snorting coke through your ass while actively spanking your ass, if the media gets a hold of this footage, it would ruin him, which he fears the most. The only thing most astonishing about this entire incident more than the sex tape was the fact that you were somehow able to film the sex even-though all your stuff had been barricaded outside his house. He wonders as to how you’ve done the deed and then he notices his spectacles on his nose bridge, he fucking yells out your name as realisation sinks in, you spilled the juice on his glasses on purpose, in order to blackmail him with his sex tape where he’s doing drugs the wolf way. He immediately responds to the email, wanting to meet up with the sender, who he thinks is you, and he turns out to be right, as you sit in front of him, wearing a red lipstick, still looking hot as ever. “What the fuck do you want, woman?”, Jungkook questions panic lacing in his voice. “I lied about being an aspiring author, I wanna be an actress! You’re a hot shot director.”, you say, Jungkook now understands you, the likes of you who desperately want money and fame, he’s disgusted by girls like you who use deception to actively climb up the ladder but he has no choice but to submit to your qualms as you hold an integral piece of evidence that will destroy his career. “Okay, the first thing today I’ll do will be cast you in my new project, Cha eun woo is the male lead.”, he says as you frown, Jungkook notices the saddened expression on your face, “You don’t want to work?”, he inquires, “I’ll be honest with you, I actually don’t want to act”, you say truthfully as Jungkook looks taken aback by what you just said, “Then why the fuck are you blackmailing me woman?”, he asks as a scowl forms on his face, “fame is not what i want”, you say as jungkook raises an eyebrow wanting you to continue, “there’s someone I want for whom I could go to any extent, cross whatever lines that exist between us, just so that I could one day make him mine.”, you say as you think of Taehyung, Jungkook doesn’t understand what you say that is until you take out a small plastic bag out of your pocket containing Taehyung’s hair strand, you carry it everywhere with you as a token of your undying love for the aforementioned man, “This is actor’s Taehyung hair strand, I bought it when I was fourteen via dark web.”, you state, surprising him, “You love Taehyung?”, he states now even more amused by you, “I think what I harbour for him surpasses love, he has become the sole reason of my existence.”, you state with fire blazing in your eyes, Jungkook notices how your soulless eyes finally show emotions at the mention of Taehyung, now it wouldn’t be just pure blackmail motivating him to get you to work with Taehyung but also his own curiosity to get to know you better. “Come tomorrow, I’m planning to replace the villainess of my tv show in which Taehyung is starring, I think you’d be a perfect fit for the character”, he says, “Why not the main female lead?”, you question to which he smirks before replying, “Taehyung’s current girlfriend is playing that role alongside him now.”, as these words leave his lips, you feel a pang of jealousy within your heart, in fact, your soul set to arson by the revelation of this fact, looking at your current expressions, Jungkook taunts, “did you really think he’d go on in his life without dating anyone? did you never consider this being a possibility?”, he snarks, you roll your eyes, “it stings a lot I’d admit it but even if he was married, that wouldn’t stop me from making him mine so what even is a girlfriend in front of me?”, you retort, Jungkook looks surprised as he raises his hands in surrender.

The following morning, you wake up at 4 am, grooming yourself, getting ready, it takes you 5 hours to get ready and you still don’t feel like that is enough, you’re finally going to be meeting your destination, the person who has owned your heart ever since you’ve been ten. You wear the most expensive dress there is in the closet, you keep on screaming out of sheer excitement and nervousness, you haven’t eaten a thing since morning as this is the least you can do for the man who has had your heart stolen by him, your soul belongs to him, you solely only belong to him, the entire long drawn journey, finally bearing fruitful results, you grow overwhelmed with emotions as you’re nearing him. You’ve fainted five times already at the thought of meeting him. This is your condition before even meeting him, what would even happen when you meet him.

Hours pass by, as you reach the sets of Jungkook’s ongoing project. The d-day has finally arrived. You’re gonna meet the king of your soul, your body, your heart heck your everything.

Moments before the grandeur meeting. You finally see him, your soul which was aching for even a glimpse of him is now taken abode to heaven. Your heart thirsting for even a glance of him gets quenched when you finally see his features. God has carefully crafted in the formation of this handsome man, his features absolutely breath taking, his eyes, a beautiful shade of light brown. Fireworks explode in your chest as you fall to your knees at the sight of him, that is, until you see him with his supposed girlfriend but not for long. Jungkook comes near you as he helps you stand up while your soul burning with envy looks at the woman as an involuntary scowl forms on your face. That woman seems familiar to you. Where have you seen her before. You keep on pondering and that is when it clicks you. The man you’ve been desiring since most of your childhood is dating your childhood friend Evie?!. This is a shock to you, how did she even bag him is what you wonder. Suddenly, Taehyung’s eyes are directed towards you, your hearts skips a beat as you stare back into his beautiful and mesmerising eyes. Taehyung leaves his girlfriend to come talk to you. As Taehyung’s approaching you, Jungkook whispers into your ears, “He doesn’t like women who immediately jump onto him so you might want to curb your urge to just fuck him here.”, he says while you tune it all out because you’re in your own world because of Kim Taehyung. “Hey, you’re new here!”, he says smiling at you, you keep on admiringly staring at him before you’re pulled out of the trance as he waves his hand in front of you, “Oh i’m sorry, yes I’ll be playing the new villainess here.”, you internally scream as you’re talking to Taehyung live in action.

“Now kiss!”, Taehyung moves forward to kiss Evie, but as they’re about to kiss, you scream, you make others think that it’s impromptu method acting but all you’re trying to do is not let them kiss, this is when Evie notices you and recognises you, she’s a bit surprised by your ‘sudden acting’. “Bravo acting”, Jungkook praises you as you bow to him, then Taehyung comes to you and as he’s about to come to you, you intentionally slip on your heels, causing for Taehyung to hold you by your waist to prevent your fall. You both bore into each other’s eyes, feeling an electrifying spark, your breath shortening due to him being so close.

“Cut!” The cast wraps up for the day, “You did well”, Taehyung smiles at you feeling something between you spark, “So did you”, you reply honestly. “Can you give me your number?”, he asks, your heart starts racing hard, “Sure”, you smile at him, you jot down your number on a paper and give it to him. He smiles at you and then proceeds to leave with that whore.

You secretly follow Taehyung as he’s with Evie, he hands the note with your number to her, you’re so confused by this but you choose to ignore his actions as you’re more focused on admiring him. Taehyung goes to his apartment while Evie is alone, this is also the night, you’ve set up to have Taehyung break things off with Evie immediately because you know you cannot stand to see them together anymore.

You dial in Moon Sang-min’s number on your phone and tell him to come with his car, he follows your word and arrives with his car, you get in and push him out, “Do what I told you to do”, is what you say him before he nods and goes Evie’s way.

“Hello”, Sang-min says to Evie, she gets startled by his sudden appearance, “Hello Oppa”, she says blushing profusely, of course she is attracted to him, Sang-min subtly puts his arms around her waist as they continue talking as someone captures their meeting, unknown to her. That someone being you, you post their interaction via Dispatch on Jungkook’s instructions.

An uproar is caused in the morning, multiple death threats sent to Evie by Sang-min’s fans, which you think she deserves, you hum happily, as you learn about the hate she’s receiving.

You get a text from an unknown number, the text reads, “Hi Y/n babe, I missed you so much, please text me when you read this, It’s Evie, Let’s meet up, I kind of need you right now.”, you immediately respond back, agreeing to meet up with her. You wear the second most expensive dress in your closet to visit her.

She’s looking at the ocean while waiting for you in a cafe’s balcony, the café that is owned by Jungkook. As soon as she sees you entering the café, she waves at you. You go towards her. You take a seat in front of her as she motions to speak, “I’m so sorry we haven’t been in contact for so long!”, she apologises genuinely, “it’s okay”, you smile at her as you say that. You both talk about how your lives have had been while you’ve been away from each other, you lie about your life though.

Hours pass by, as you both catch up, that’s when Evie strikes up her concerns with you, “You know Y/n I’ve been getting so much hate ever since someone pictured my harmless interaction with Sang-min oppa and you know I can stand all that hate but this one hurts because even Taehyung is mad at me now.”, she says, surprising you, “Has he broken up with you?”, you say barely being able to hide your happiness, “Noo ew; we’ll never break up, in fact we’d get married.”, she says, this turns something in you as you offer her brown sugar to add to her coffee, which she happily complies with. “You know Evie, while growing up even I’ve had a huge crush on Taehyung”, you say as it surprises Evie now, “Is that so?”, she says, “Yes, things get messy when a simple crush blurs its lines with desire, passion and undying love for the person”, you say confusing her, “How so?”, she asks, “Crush is something you can get over, the love I’m talking about transcends peak obsession, you know where you blur the lines between good and evil for the one you love.”, you say explaining to her, she still doesn’t understand but gives you a small smile, “That’s cute but whom do you love that way.”, she asks curious, “Taehyung”, you simply reply while sipping onto your coffee, her face gets rubbed off of any smile on her face, as she slowly loses her consciousness, slowly diving towards death, wholly because of the poison you did add to the brown sugar sachet before handing it to her. There stands no one between you and Taehyung, you’ll ensure no one does.

The next morning, the entire nation is in splits after the devastating announcement of your childhood friend’s murder orchestrated as a suicide by you due to online bullying and harassment she faced online when she has had been alive. You grab your purse before heading out to Taehyung’s place as you know he’d be the most devastated one by this news and you stand corrected, he’s crying, he’s spiralling down into doldrum but worry not he has you to nurse his broken heart, you offer your fake condolences to him and then console him, feeling a bit envious because of Evie’s death impacting him so much but whatever at least there would be no more hurdles between you and him now.

You and Taehyung have been getting pretty close now, especially after the day Evie left this world’s premises. You’ve always offered him a reliable shoulder to cry on. Taehyung is slowly forgetting about Evie and getting over her death as you fill up the empty holes in his heart. Taehyung is gradually falling in love with you, he spends all his time with you, even on the sets of the show you’ve been taken in as the female lead by Jungkook now after Evie’s passing. He loves all the moments he has spent with you as he replays your conversations with him all over in his head again and again, he cherishes you and is planning to confess soon to you.

The day Taehyung confesses to you, you feel so mellow and gentle, you’ve a song written for him by a famous singer, Keara Graves, you sing the song to him as your response to accepting his confession. You both get into a relationship moments later. Your plan has effectively worked well, you’ve come a long way with everything, you’ve to pat yourself on the back for never giving up and going through hell to obtain the man whom you call very much so yours now. You have had known that meeting someone during their vulnerable period makes them get attached to you and that is what you did with Taehyung, you waited for him to get vulnerable, strike at the right time and then win his heart.

This has been quite a journey for you, you’ve learnt a lot about yourself and how much you can do for this man you’ve promised to love forever in this life time. You’ve achieved your goal successfully. This feels unreal to you but then you remember you’d do anything to have him even if it means putting your life at stake and you did do everything you could to have him. You’re in love with this man, there’s no denying that, you’ll always love him no matter what happens and you’ll ensure he never leaves your side nonetheless.

This is the love story where you relentlessly love him and go to any extent to get him to become yours.

This is your story of loving him and how love and will can move mountains, just like in your case.

Thinkin' 'bout the day when we first met The way you made me feel and how you left What I wouldn't give just to be more To be someone that you hold and you adore Look at my eyes See what you mean to me Feel the beat of my heart I need to believe that I could walk through fiery burning love But you still wouldn't feel the heat Feel the heat It burns in me But you see through me I could walk through fiery burning love (you see through me) I could walk through fiery burning love You always know exactly what to say To pull me in before you walk away But I don't wanna go through this again To act like I'm okay just being friends Look at my eyes See what you mean to me Feel the beat of my heart I need to believe that I could walk through fiery burning love But you still wouldn't feel the heat Feel the heat It burns in me But you see through me I could walk through fiery burning love Oh now, I'm calling out I don't have the words to say Maybe in another life it could be another way In another life you'd stay Look at my eyes See what you mean to me Feel the beat of my heart I need to believe that I could walk through fiery burning love But you still wouldn't feel the heat Feel the heat It burns in me But you see through me I could walk through fiery burning love (you see through me) I could walk through fiery burning love

~Keara Graves.

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the end

[ramcharantitties]

Other Woman- Part 5

New year was cold. It killed you to get up from bed or do anything that required leaving blankets. Some people might have set their fairy lights in joy of the upcoming year, but you didn't want to. You just stood there by the balcony, hugging the shawl closer, staring at the golden lights. The fresh conversations were vivid, about Christmas celebration and traditions, but you could only listen and nod, it wasn't for you to say anything when your own husband was fighting for them. Your double standards were also a fresh conversation for others. But some did understand, some friends, going from the same fate. And they made your life a little better.

You peeked down the balcony railing to see your husband in the street, making his way home. You didn't know where he was, and you didn't want to know either. Ram and you were still sleeping in different rooms, his special blanket with you. You wondered if he was left cold in the nights. You remembered when Ram used to read out stories to you, as you'd knit him hand gloves. The considerations that his actions resonated was far warmer than any blankets and fire.

The clang on the door alerted that he was home. You stepped out of the balcony, going in the kitchen to get him some warm water. From the corner of your eyes, you could see that Ram was shuffling around in your room. Maybe he needed his drawer, you shrugged. Ram was sitting on his table, doing something, when you kept the glass down on his table. He looked up, smiling. "I got an invitation" he said, handing you an envelop.

The white envelop had a little flower on it. You opened it, pulling out a blue card. It was a new year celebration party from one of your friends. You sat down on the bed, reading it. "That's nice" you muttered, placing it on table. The awkward distance between you, made you both long for each other. Naturally, you would have your arms around him, reading the card aloud. He'd pull you in his lap, and then you would ask which saree to wear. Your eyes met, an expression of grimace on both your faces. It was as if you both were thinking the same thing. You looked away, and then left the room.

...................................

Ram quickly pulled the bill out of his drawer the next morning, when you were having your tea. "I am gonna head out for a while" he said, and left the house. He stepped in the street, the morning was warm. Hopefully it won't be cold either when you will be leaving for the party. Ram thought about yesterday evening. Will the time like that come back, when you were so free spirited and loving? Another question, far more concerning, dawned on him. Did he deserve to have the loving and carefree y/n he broke down? He was there to peel all the oranges you had, but it was necessary that you would be able to do that for yourself. Or maybe you were doing it because you weren't no more sure that your own husband would stay for you.

Ram reached the shop, rushing in. The jeweler, Sarla, he has been meeting for some days, was nowhere to be seen. She understood his situation, and decided to get a custom ring made for you. They spent hours figuring out the cut, style, color, design, browsing through books and reviews to find the perfect combination for you. The only problem was that Sarla didn't like Ram.

"You are back" she said loudly, appearing from the curtains. Ram sighed. "Here, what's the progress?" He asked, handing the bill. "Well I talked to the worker and that ring isn't possible" she said, pulling a stack of boxes out. Ram whined. "Listen, cop man, I am trying. It is not my fault the designs you think of are neither functional nor pretty" she said. Ram seethed, but knew better than to say anything. "But I do have an idea" Sarla pulled out her notepad, quickly scrolling through her design sketches. "What if you get her a thin, light blue set, with earrings, choker and a ring?" Ram's eyebrows shot up. "The custom ring is already so costly, how can I get the whole set?" he asked, peeking a look at the design. His breath hitched. The intricate design, simplicity yet the efforts, Ram imagined the set on you and he couldn't think of anything else. Sarla slid a small box towards him.

Ram hesitated before opening it. Sarla nodded, a soft smile on her face. The ring had a blue four line star with silver lines on side. It looked straight out of a fairy book and Ram knew you would love it. "It was an old design. It's way cheaper than the ring" Sarla's statement snapped Ram out of his imagination and he looked up with his big brown eyes. Ram decided to get the set, and took the ring with himself. He almost eloped from the door, pocketing the ornament in his trousers. There was a glee in his heart, finding the perfect ring for his perfect wife. Ram never got to give you an actual engagement ring- he hoped this would make up for it. For a new start. Ram didn't even got to cross the market when he saw a familiar pair of eyes calling his name. A pair of eyes he loathed to recognize. A pair of eyes that were not yours, and if he was caught, there would be no making up.

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

tagging: @vijayasena @ramayantika @nerdreader @yehsahihai @chaanv

[lvmimis]

malevolent enterprise ch. 9

cw: ceo!au. you and nobara get to know a little more about each other. header by @/cafekitsune! masterlist

“Third time really is the charm, I see,” Nobara says, smirking as you walk down the front steps of the office to meet her. It’s evening and the orange tones of the overhead sky mix in with her bob, as you approach her, holding your designer bag tightly to your side. Nobara’s eyes pass over it and she looks away but once you meet her, she compliments it and your shoes.

“Finally someone else on our floor has refined taste,” she says as the two of you head down the street to the trendy bar/restaurant at the end of the corporate district, the type that hires men and women that are pretty enough to serve at host clubs but insist they don’t provide that kind of service.

You laugh, but she stops in her tracks and looks at you dead serious.

“This is not a game. These men embarrass me.”

You think about the protein Perrier again and shudder. 

Once you’re seated, Nobara orders a shochu highball with lychee, and you order a Cosmopolitan that you sip slowly while Nobara does her best to size you up as a person, asking you questions that attempt to pick below your overall well-contained exterior.

“How do you like the place so far?” she asks, and of course you have a practiced answer. The community is great, the hours are good, you’ve been able to very easily speak your mind and take stances, Yuuji is a great boss, etc. Her eyes narrow as if she’s uninterested.

“Boring,” she says outright, and you nearly choke on your drink.

“Kugisaki-san, respectfully, did you think I was going to shittalk the place?” you reply, and the casualty of your language delights her. 

“No, but it would have made you more interesting. I like complainers.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint.”

Your sass entertains her more and she grins, slipping a yakitori stick into her mouth and pulls the meat off the stick a little too cleanly. 

“You know, I hate this job.”

You blink. She shouldn’t really be telling you this considering that she’s acting Chief Financial Officer, you think, but you nod, then swirl your drink, noncommittally. It’s very clear that most of her subordinates do the work anyway, although you don’t doubt her abilities.

“Why so?” you ask. You try to keep your tone casual and non-confrontational but it occurs to you that there’s very little you could ever do to ever intimidate someone like her. She shrugs.

“I want to be an influencer.”

As she says this she’s scrolling through something in her phone, and then shows you her lifestyle Instagram. She’s not famous enough that you would have heard about her, but she has a decent amount of followers and you imagine that with more dedication, she could be quite popular.

“Offices, meetings, paperwork, all that nonsense, have never really been my thing. I’m just helping out Itadori since we’ve been friends for so long, since college. We started at the same time, when his grandpa insisted that he join all because he said he needed a friend. I ended up this high up as a fluke.”

You nod. You’ve figured out that they were a bit close due to the way she interacts with him between board meetings and run-ins in the hallways, but didn’t figure that there was that much history involved. 

“So why haven’t you left?” you ask. She gives you a look, then sighs.

“Didn’t want to ditch him during his time of need,” she admits. “I don’t come from a fancy background like he does, so I have to remind him when he’s being too bourgeois once in a while and making a big deal out of nothing. He wasn’t supposed to inherit, you know.”

You do know. Your thoughts flit to him and his easy smile, then to the pensive furrow of his eyebrows. He doesn’t make huge mistakes, but he’s unsure at times. He asks you for your opinion too much, he worries too much about how his employees feel.

“The salary is good though,” she mentions. You nod. Your check is fat enough that you’ve been able to put away Gojo’s severance package as a little nest egg in your savings.

“Have you told him you want to leave?” you ask. 

She laughs. “Need to save a little bit more if I truly want to travel for the rest of my life.”

“Mm,” is your reply.

“I think Itadori would be willing to fund my channel at least in the beginning but the idea of being indebted to a man kind of disgusts me.”

She reaches for another yakitori stick and you take the opportunity to stuff your mouth with gyoza. You have to admit that you’re a bit more curious about their relationship, with an urge to pry. Kugisaki is beautiful and elegant, but crass enough that it pleasantly brings her down to earth. They make a good pair.

You try to avoid your urge to ask more questions by joking, “I know that’s right,” as you clink glasses with her.

Her eyes narrow for a moment, then she props her chin up by her hand.

“Interested in anyone?” she asks. The sudden question catches you off guard, but you figure with girl talk this will eventually happen.

“Actually, I just got out of a bad relationship,” you say, keeping your tone light. Bad is an understatement. You’d caught your boyfriend trying to arrange an orgy in your home with three girls while you were on a business trip and kicked him out expeditiously without bothering to even take the time to really yell at him. After all, he might have been more of a pet than a partner, but that was an entirely different story. 

“Loser?” Nobara asked, sipping the last of her drink through a tiny straw, the pull-through of air loud.

“Cheater,” you offer. She looks at you.

“Damn. Let’s stab him.”

This makes you laugh out loud. 

“Thank you, but not worth it. I didn’t really care about him by the end anyway.”

Nobara offers you a high five. “Are you seeing anyone?” you ask, finally, despite having told yourself to avoid probing just moments ago. 

“Kind of,” she again appears to act uninvested but you can see a gentle pink flush on her cheeks that you’re not sure is from the alcohol. You think about Yuuji again then blurt out,

“Workplace relationships aren’t frowned upon here, are they?”

Nobara looks confused for a moment. “No, why would you ask that?”

It’s your turn for your cheeks to warm. “Oh, I assumed maybe, with Itadori-san, you-”

“I like women.” Nobara says flatly, a hand up to stop you from even considering the thought. You blink, and your mouth forms an O, and she’s amused enough about your reaction to laugh. 

“Don’t worry, I don’t fuck where I eat though,” she pauses, then looks you up and down again. “Although you’re cute, I won’t deny that.”

Another clean yakitori stick, and you have to shake the fact that she has genuinely flustered you out of your head. She’s caught this too, and she laughs, slapping your shoulder.

“Relax, newbie!” 

You loosen up, then consider that you might need to order another drink. The waitress comes around for another round and you find that you’re relieved at the thought that Kugisaki is not interested in either you nor your boss.

“How was it like working for Satoru? You didn’t try to fuck him too, did you?” she asks upfront. Your eyes widen, and she grins. “Listen, I might be immune to his charms, but not many in Tokyo are.”

“He’s kind of gross, but he’s kind in other ways.” 

Nobara’s displeased face throws you off so much you end up snorting.

“Okay, no more talk of men, we’re not passing the Bechdel test at all, are we?” she pivots.

You laugh. The remainder of the evening has you talking about your background, your families and all of your friends, and you’re thankful to have a new one by the end.

[moonrazeeclipse]

Airplane.

It had been over a year since I last flew on a plane. The disease that stole our 2020 was starting to die down in most developed countries, and my impatient self wasn’t willing to wait another year to go on a vacation. After all, it got tiring seeing the image of the outside world without getting to touch grass. That’s what the kids said, anyway.

What a difference a year made. Usually airports were congested, chaotic, and raucous. It felt strange walking through gate after gate with a sizable crowd. Like any parent I arrived over four hours before my actual flight, so the rest of my time was spent on my phone and wasting power bank battery.

“Attention, passenger! Please come to Terminal 127,” the female voice declared over the speakers. When I realized they were calling my name, I stood up and took my bag with me to the designated gate.

“Hello, I was the one called earlier,” I said to the announcer behind the counter.

“Sir, you’ve been reassigned to Flight 0249. Please come with me now.”

I was puzzled and confused. I’ve never been transferred until now. Regardless, she led me inside the lounge of Terminal 127. My eyes widened at the lavishness of the suite. A big 80 inch flatscreen television, comfortable reclining chairs, and a clean bathroom with showers decked out the exclusive space.

“Please enjoy while you wait,” she told me before leaving me alone. And enjoy I did.

A couple of hours passed before the plane taking me to New York arrived. Not gonna lie, speaking mostly in my native language again was gonna be refreshing. I entered the plane in what I thought was gonna be economy class, but the stewardess that welcomed me told me to move up front.

Perhaps I was very engrossed in mindless phone scrolling with earphones on to notice anyone else stepping in that terminal. As I stepped into first class, there were various men in suits who I cared little about. But more importantly, a row of beautiful ladies that caught my eye. One of them, a dark haired slim figure gazed back but that went overlooked. At least for that one brief moment.

I reached Row 9 and settled in my personal chamber after putting down my bags. Each line had a pair of chairs that could be converted into beds meant for long term travel. I could get used to this. What did I do to deserve a nice, lavish flight?

Forty minutes passed before the stewardesses did their usual pre-flight checks. I missed how tedious and boring they were. But then again, people refuse to wear masks and would rather prolong the pandemic than follow simple instructions.

The plane took off and so the 14 hour voyage from Seoul to New York began. After the seatbelt sign faded, the pilot spoke. “Good day, ladies and gentlemen. This is your captain speaking. We’re currently cruising at an altitude of 35,000 feet on our way to New York. Relax, settle in, and enjoy the flight.”

So, how about that airline food? Tasted weird, as always. Despite that, it was somewhat comforting as someone used to flying around the world often.

As night fell and the passengers settled into their sleeping positions, I was using the free wifi the plane offered. Earpods on, I spoke with my friend on voice chat. I told him I was finally coming back. He promised to pick me up upon my arrival. It’s been far too long since I got acquainted with American soil.

While chatting with him, my eyes glanced up and saw that girl again. She walked past me towards one of the lavatories in front. My eyes bounced along with the sway of her hips. That’s when my brain decided to make a move.

“Be right back,” I said to my friend before putting the call down. Little did he know I’d never return for the rest of the night.

I exited my quarter and slowly followed her without a fuss. Good thing there wasn’t any activity from the other travelers or attendants. Suddenly I felt a hand pulling me inside the lavatory, then my body was dragged inside hastily.

“Ah! What was that—”

She placed a finger near her mouth, implying that I should shut up. Her words confirmed it. “Quiet! They’ll hear us if you don’t shut up.”

I nodded. Afterward, she flashed a gummy smile. Her charms were apparent, more than her sexy body. It provided a bit of comfort in a discomforting space, an extremely cramped restroom.

“Um,” I couldn’t find any suitable words. My charisma failed me this time. That doesn’t happen. “So, why did you drag me inside this bathroom?”

Her smirk grew wider. “You know why. I know you’ve been peeping at me while we’re here.”

My heart pounded wildly as she said that. It couldn't be any more obvious that I was whipped for her. Maybe it was because I haven’t seen anyone in a long time, or that she was just very gorgeous. Either way, I grew nervous with each passing second.

“Guess what.” My eyes widened. So did my pants. One tiny glance below and I saw her hand working on my zipper. “I’ve been peeping at you too. You’re lucky I’m a needy girl today.”

I gasped as she cupped my balls, measuring how full I was. She slowly pulled my pants and boxers down and out came my raging erection. “Very big,” she breathed against my cock. I felt a chill down my spine when she said that. “I can’t wait for you to fill my pussy with that.”

I couldn’t wait either. Instead of making a move, she did. The tip of my shaft slowly pierced her plump lips until her cheeks hollowed. Waves of pleasure sent my senses into overdrive. My hands clung to the walls of the confines as my legs started to quiver uncontrollably.

Pop. My shaft escaped the choke of her mouth, moistened with her drool. Her tongue slid around the underside of my cock, extending to my balls. Only airy moans could express the exciting sensation I felt. From my sack to the tip again it was a repeated process as the girl continued to lubricate my dick. Both agony and anticipation wrestled in my head; one side wanting me to dominate her and the other insisting the tease to proceed.

My eyes rolled back and were unable to keep watching her. Her mouth stuffed my member until my tip was penetrating her throat deep. I was certain she groaned too, but my own sounds covered up her weak noise. If I came right there, inside her mouth, that would be enough. But the torturous exercise of receiving head went on for what seemed like hours. Any second I felt so painfully close to release, but I didn’t.

I should be wondering whether someone would be knocking on that door, but fuck that. All that matters was a hot girl was sucking my cock inside a restroom and nothing else.

Once more my cock disappointingly departed her lips, not unloading a single fleck in her dirty mouth. She rose to my level again, then slipped her jean shorts off along with her underwear. Taking my hand with her, she led it to her groin area and there I felt a damp pang.

“Fuck me,” she said, as straightforward as it can be. “And don’t stop until you cum.”

How could I deny such a blunt demand? She bit her lips and prepared for my entry by leaning back against the wall. My lips slowly sank into hers for a passionate kiss. At that moment, I wasn’t sure if that was really me or I was under the influence of pure lust. She leaned into the smooch as our tongues slid into the other’s mouth.

“Come on, just fuck me already.” She hummed into my mouth, not releasing the liplock.

And my patience ran out. My arms snaked around her hips, gradually lifting her off her feet. Lining around her slit, I positioned myself then impaled her with my shaft. The rule of silence we agreed upon was broken when we both let out a collective groan.

“That’s so deep. Harder, harder.” She persuaded me to pump into her with more aggression, which my body happily obliged. Our flesh slapping against each other grew louder than the moans we were making. We couldn’t care any less. Her tight, silky walls suffocated my cock snugger than her mouth did.

The excess teasing performed on me minutes ago was too much. Before I knew it, I came sooner than expected. Another prolonged groan from my breath. A blast of hot semen filled her womb while I continued to fuck her through my orgasm. If it weren’t so cathartic, I’d be red with shame because of how early I climaxed.

That wasn’t enough.

“C’mon, don’t stop, don’t stop,” she said. Her nails clawed the back of my neck. “Keep fucking me until I cum myself.”

It’s like she knew how feeble-minded I was. Was she testing me? Was she deliberately hurting me? If so, then my body wanted me to pass. Somehow, I still felt as hard as ever. I continued to drill her, stretching her walls out even further.

���Almost there, just keep fucking me! You’re filling me up so good!” she gritted her teeth as I threw her body around, moving her to the sink.

A few more pumps and then she came as well. She was a mewling mess, her juices gushing out and coating my already drenched cock. The sink she sat on was also soaked too, some of it dripping down to the floor. I never felt like stopping; she was tight and slick.

“That was fucking amazing,” she said, each word followed by a drawn out breath. We took a moment to gather ourselves and to clean up.

As she was about to leave, I finally drew the courage to speak. “Wait.”

She turned around. “What is it?”

“I never got your name.”

Her smile flashed brightly again. “I thought you’d never ask. The name’s Park Jiwon. Hope to see you around.”

She winked then left the lavatory first. There were still eight hours of flying left.

And those parting words would come true after all.

(A/N: Hope you guys are doing well, just doing my monthly post before dipping again. Fromis is one of those groups I’m trying to get into and wow they’re all pretty. Maybe I’m teasing a series of some kind? Who knows.)

[the-ghost-king]

wait Apollo isn’t originally greek? thats so interesting 👀👀

Where ever did you hear that? /ij

Definitely putting all of this under a read more, it’s a long one!

Cw: Greek statues, they're naked :/

But yeah, Apollo was actually an inherited god, it’s likely that because of this as well he was a blending of multiple different gods to some extent. It’s also good to note that Apollo’s name is unknown, meaning that nobody really knows what exactly Apollo means, which is pretty weird all things considered about the Greeks who placed such importance on the god’s forenames (ie, phoebeus, acestor, age’tor, etc). 

"Though Apollo was the most Hellenic of all gods, he derived mostly from a type of god that originated in Anatolia and spread to Egypt by way of Syria and Palestine." (X)

There’s a couple of different things which point to Apollo being a Anatolian god (or being of, coming from him) named Appaliunas, and it is said they were on opposite sides of a war most beloved of their people during the fight. It’s important to note that it’s believed Appaliunas means “father light” and that he shows some level of importance over drafting peace treaties (which Apollo has some reputation in as the bringer of civilized order). We don't know too much about their connections however, because the documents are incomplete.

This theory also makes sense, because the name Leto (Apollo’s mother) is Lydian in origin, and there’s decent connections to her having been worshiped on the coast's of Asia Minor. And it is known the Greeks have adopted Anatolian gods into their religion before, see Cybele (sometimes called Cybele-Rhea), and the origin of Kore (later Persephone). There's stuff which points also to an Anatolian goddess called "Artimu" (Artemis) who is often confused to Cybele for some reason, and again this bears connections to the Lydians which worshipped Leto. There's information which points to Hekate being a goddess from Anatolia as well, which shows significance considering she is Apollo and Artemis's cousin (leading to my personal question of was Phoebe Anatolian in origin?). Apollo's divine number being 7 shows Babylonian or at least Mesopotamian Origin.

The Geographical location of these two places also bears similarities, they are close to one another, and it's known the Greeks had decent travel capabilities over water. There's also the fact that both of these lands border Troy, which is shown to have significant values in Greek culture and mythology, as well as the Greek belief that the Anatolian gods were present at Troy as well as the Greek gods.

(It's also notable the similarities in naming traditions, Alaksandu for one such example, does not sound too far off from the later Latin name Alexander, which came from the Greek name Aléxandros).

The other possible origin given for Apollo is Aplu (Apulu), a Hurrian god (of people who lived in Anatolia, Syria, and Northern Mesopotamia). Aplu and Apollo bear semblance to one another in more than name, Aplu was the god of plague (bringer of the plague more specifically) and he bears a large amount of resemblance to Apollo Parno'pius/Smitheus and Aplu's main story provides reasoning as to why Apollo may also be the god of healing and Medicine.

The story of Aplu involves the idea that the individual which brings the plague, must also be the one to banish it. This makes Aplu both bringer of plague(s) but also, protector from plague(s). From this we learn Aplu's name means "son of" (please note here Apollo's iconographic connections to "youth" and "sonship" among the Greeks, as the god of kouros), but the connection of "the son of" was a title granted also to the god Nergal (worshiped by many different people(s) across Mesopotamia) who is at least in part someone who holds power over the sun, and holds connection to Shamash (Utu).

Aplu is also often depicted naked (ya know) but wearing a laurel leaf, and part of a cloak... It's funny how these images are Apollo though:

Aplu is also symbolized by a staff and laurel a twig(s), while we know Apollo to be associated closely with the laurel because of Daphne, and Apollo having iconography related to staffs involves him giving his away to Hermes- which perhaps has to do with the caduceus being interpreted as the symbol for medicine, or the connection of Apollo to Asclepius and the rod of Asclepius.

Aplu isn't isolated necessarily either, there is also the Etruscan goddess Aritimi (Artume, Artames, or Artumes) and she oversees animals, human assemblies, and is considered a hunting deity. As well as scrolling through this list, you'll note more than one Greek/Roman mythological figure.

There's also a ton of stuff from Etruscan mythology (Hurrian mythology is just a subsect of Etruscan mythology) which overlaps with Greek mythology, some sources even state Etruscan -> Greek -> Roman mythology (I wont comment on that because I don't know well enough).

There's some other places Apollo's name might have come from, but those are probably the two most likely under the assumption that Apollo is a collective of many gods.

These are the specifics of the Anatolian god's Apollo may be born of/from, but there's a variety of things which point to him and mythology around him being of other origins as well (Minoan, Dorian, and Proto-Indo-European... yeah)

You may have heard one of Apollo's sacred animals is dolphins, Apollo Delphinios/Delphidios, this is because of a Minoan god named Paiawon (Paion) who was worshiped on Crete and also originated in Delphi. In the second part of Homeric hymn to Apollo, Apollo would transform his shape into that of a dolphin and carry the new priests to Delphi for the transfer of religious practices:

"Phoebus Apollo pondered in his heart what men he should bring in to be his ministers in sacrifice and to serve him in rocky Pytho. And while he considered this, he became aware of a swift ship upon the wine-like sea in which were many men and goodly, Cretans... Phoebus Apollo met them: in the open sea he sprang upon their swift ship, like a dolphin in shape, and lay there, a great and awesome monster, and none of them gave heed so as to understand but they sought to cast the dolphin overboard. But he kept shaking the black ship every way and making the timbers quiver. So they sat silent in their craft for fear, and... so they kept sailing on; for a rushing south wind hurried on the swift ship from behind... They wished to put their ship to shore, and land and comprehend the great marvel and see with their eyes whether the [dolphin] would remain upon the deck of the hollow ship, or spring back into the briny deep where fishes shoal. But the well-built ship would not obey the helm, but went on its way all along Peloponnesus and the lord, far-working Apollo, guided it easily with the breath of the breeze..." (X)

Apollo Delphinios was largely only worshiped by people of Crete and surrounding islands, but this is also largely where Paiawon was worshiped as well. There's also many things from early Grecian history which simply state Apollo to be Paiawon or of Paiawon, or at least doesn't bother to specify which god is being talked about.

In the earlier parts of Greek history, seventh-sixth century, there was distinctions made between the pair:

"and in Solon's opinion it is Apollo who makes a man a μάντις (soothsayer) but healers do the work of Paion" (X)

The whole thing with Apollo being descended from Paiawon however, is that Paiawon may not be Minoan but Mycenaean in origin, which means even if Apollo is originated in Minoan culture one of the gods who has influenced that origin wasn't even necessarily Minoan but taken in. Others believe Paiawon was Minoan or Aegean in origin but very far in the past, since his songs used a meter of pre-Greek origin.

You'll also not the commonalities between Paion (a spelling of Paiawon) and Paean (also spelled Paian), Apollo's original name according to Homer. It could mean a variety of things but "who heals illnesses through magic" and "pre-greek" are the most common translations of the word Paean, but it is also associated with music (most specifically a song sung by Thetlas who cured the Spartans) and is said to denote hymns for Apollo.

"PAEAN, that is, "the healing," is according to Homer the designation of the physician of the Olympian gods, who heals, for example, the wounded Ares and Hades. After the time of Homer and Hesiod, the word Paian becomes a surname of Asclepius, the god who had the power of healing. The name was, however, used also in the more general sense of deliverer from any evil or calamity, and was thus applied to Apollo and Thanatos, or Death, who are conceived as delivering men from the pains and sorrows of life... From Apollo himself the name Paean was transferred to the song dedicated to him, that is, to hymns chanted to Apollo for the purpose of averting an evil, and to warlike songs, which were sung before or during a battle." (X)

In regards to the possibility of Apollo having been of Minoan origin, one must consider not only his origins but the origins of the gods and goddesses around him and how they may have developed over time.

In this case Britomartis (Diktynna) is of particular interest, she was the Minoan "mistress of animals", she was a goddess (or sometimes nymph, or oread) of the mountains and the hunt. There's points to the name meaning "sweet maiden" or other similar things, but it is debatable.

Eventually Britomartis would become the goddess of nets in Hellenic myths, and would simply be closely identified with the goddess of Artemis. However, to the Minoans Britomartis wandered alongside a bow-wielding male hunter who's name has been lost, it is likely that aspects of this hunter were absorbed into Apollo; when the introduction of worshiping Artemis was brought to the island of Crete where Britomartis was also worshiped they were compared and quickly said to be of one another.

It is also said in some variations the myths of Britomartis that she was taken to the mainland in the nets of men after fleeing Minos, this seems like a euphemism for her as a goddess of worship being brought by fisherman to mainland and taken into their culture and worship, more so than it sounds like a goddess's story. Perhaps this led to her becoming Artemis, although most myths seem to agree Artemis gave Britomartis immortality... So who knows, but it's a point of particular interest for me.

Also I know I mentioned proto-indo-european origins for Apollo and I could analyze gods and goddesses relating to Apollo being a Minoan god like Aphaea, but I am not going to lie I am rather sick mostly of sourcing everything and I don't like to talk about stuff without stuff to back me up because I don't want to come across like I'm pulling information or ideas out of thin air because that's how misinformation spreads... But yeah, here's a somewhat simplified piece on Apollo's possible origins as a pre-Hellenistic god, and I hope you enjoy because I know you sent the ask a bit ago <3

[xjoonchildx]

last call | jjk x reader

pairing: jungkook x reader

rating: 18+

word count: 4.4K

synopsis: jeon jungkook is the hottest bartender in the city. everyone has their sights set on him, but it seems he has his sights set on you.

warnings: oral (female receiving), protected sex, jungkook thirst, excessive jungkook thirst, hello we’re talking about jungkook here -- there is a jungkook-sized amount of thirst, unsanitary use of a space designated for food and beverage

A/N: this fic is a commission for the @ficswithluv​ special project “Changes with Luv”. The awesome @dee-ehn​ made a donation to BLM for this fic and she asked for sexy times with long-haired JK with tattoos and dammit that’s what she’s gonna get.  Thanks so much for making the donation, this is a cool way for authors like me to pitch in for an important cause!

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Jeon Jungkook is the sexiest man in this city.

That’s not a matter of opinion, that’s an actual fact -- voted into law by you and the rest of the Council of The Thirsty after a night of downing shots at The Black Swan.  The four of you piled into the bar’s single-stall restroom to check lipstick and chat shit and it was decided, that was that.

The Black Swan is open long after the other nearby bars and restaurants have locked up for the night. After the tables have been cleared and the tips have been counted, it’s where just about everyone who works in the service industry in this part of town ends up for a post-shift nightcap. They’re drawn by the late hours and the strong drinks and, well --

Jeon Jungkook.

On any given night, his bar is packed with flirts -- men and women alike -- all hoping for just a taste of his attention.  You can’t blame them, really.  It’s far too easy to get lost in Jungkook’s massive, dark eyes, or that slow, confident smile.  And it’s far too hard to look away when he tucks an errant strand of inky hair behind his ear or when he rolls his sleeves up to reveal those toned forearms covered with tattoos.

Jungkook works his bar with the confidence of a man who understands his magnetism, a man who understands why people get sucked into his orbit and never want to leave. 

Suckers just like you.

*************************

Jägermeister is totally fucking disgusting and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

You’ve just bellied up to the bar to grab a drink when Jeon Jungkook drops a shot of the foul shit right in front of you.  The look you give him is equal parts confused and revolted.

“What’s this?” 

“Oh, come on,” he teases with a smile, “You work at a bar.  Don’t tell me you don’t recognize a shot of Jäger.”

“Oh, I recognize it,” you tease back. “I just refuse to acknowledge it.  Who sent this to me?”

Jungkook narrows his eyes playfully, pulls another shot glass from under the bar and pours himself a shot of the dark, thick liqueur.

He holds it up in the air and waits for you to do the same.

“I did.”

Your eyebrows shoot sky-high in surprise.  Jeon Jungkook buying you a shot? 

You’re probably just in the right place at the right time, you reason. The lucky recipient of a free drink because he’s in the mood to get one, too.  

Or unlucky, you correct yourself -- looking down at the glass.  But one more look at Jungkook and you know there’s no way you’re going to refuse the offering.  

You’re picky, but you’re damned sure not stupid.

You raise your shot glass in the air and Jungkook looks pleased.

“Bottoms up,” he says, eyes twinkling.

***********************

Something strange happens a few nights later.  

You’re seated at a high-top near the bar with your girlfriends when you hear Jungkook call something out across the room.  Your friends freeze, wide eyes and shocked stares focused on you for one awkward moment.

He says it again, this time louder -- and there’s no mistaking it.

It’s your name.

You ignore the frantic whispering of your girlfriends and stand up from your seat at the high-top to approach Jungkook’s bar.  He’s leaned over it, hands bracing the dark wood -- pen tucked neatly behind his ear.  His long dark hair is pulled back into a glossy knot, but one lock has fallen into his eyes.  

He looks insanely good -- but honestly, what’s new?

You clear your throat before you approach so you don’t croak your way through whatever comes next.  Spine straight, you get close, slide into a barstool and do your best to appear casual.

“What’s up?” 

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna threaten you with any more shots of Jäger,” he laughs, flashing his million-watt smile.  You smile back, hoping he can’t hear the holy shits and what the fucks flying at the table behind you.  “I’ve got something else for you tonight.”

“Okay,” you breathe, dazzled by the personal attention he’s bestowing on you.  “What’s on the menu?”

Jungkook reaches for two fresh shot glasses and pulls a heavy amber bottle from the well behind his bar.

“Grand Marnier,” you answer for him, watching as he pours you both a shot.  “An upgrade from Jäger, that’s for sure,” you tease.

He laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling in the most goddamned adorable way possible.  “I figured this might be more your speed.”

Figured how? As far as you know, he doesn’t know a thing about you -- apart from the fact that you usually drink a vodka tonic.

And your name, apparently.  How does he know your name, anyway?

“Cheers,” he says in that low, sexy voice, and you shiver.

“Cheers,” you agree, tongue swiping at the taste of the sweet liqueur on your lips.  

Jungkook’s eyes darken for a split-second and heat creeps up your neck.

“So, um -- how do you know my name?”

You can thank the alcohol for giving you the courage to ask.  Sober you wouldn’t be nearly so forward.

Jungkook shrugs.  “I’ve seen it on your credit card.”

“Ah,” you smile.  “Well, thanks, again.  Next time, I’ll be the one buying, okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” he grins.

But as you’re walking back to your table something dawns on you.  

You turn and head back to the bar.

“Hold on a second,” you say, eyes narrowed at Jungkook.  “I’ve never paid with a credit card here.  I always pay my tab in cash.”

“Hmmm,” he murmurs -- and fuck if the slow smile that spreads across his features doesn’t make your panties wet right then and there.  

“Is that right?”

**************************

“Jeon Jungkook wants to fuck you.”

“For the love of God, Tifa,” you hiss, ducking your head.  “Keep your voice down.  Jungkook and every last one of his ancestors can hear you when you’re talking that loud.”

Tifa shrugs, unbothered.

“I said what I said,” she sniffs, checking for non-existent dirt under her nails.  “You see any of us getting free shots from The Golden One? Or any of the other women in here, for that matter?”

Well, she’s kind of got a point there, doesn’t she?

You have no idea why you seem to have captured Jeon Jungkook’s attention, but you’re not going to question it, that’s for sure. You’re going to enjoy your good fortune while it lasts.

“He’s being nice,” you argue, and even you aren’t buying it the second the lame deflection comes out of your mouth.  Tifa rolls her eyes.

“You know what else would be nice? Getting dicked down by the hottest man in town.  Wouldn’t that be nice?”

You sigh.  

It would be, actually.  The part of your brain that entertains such outlandish fantasies has been working overtime these days, imagining exactly what that would be like.  Imagining the body that lies underneath that sinfully fitted shirt and the almost-too-tight-but-not-quite jeans.  

Jungkook certainly walks and talks and moves like a man who knows exactly what he’s doing in bed.  You’d love nothing more than to know if there’s any truth to that theory.

You chance a glance over your shoulder, back to the bar -- and Jungkook is deep in conversation with a patron.  She’s leaning over the bar, practically throwing herself at the man, but he looks away from her to catch sight of you.  His picture-perfect face breaks into a wide smile and you break into a sweat.

“See what I mean?” Tifa asks, brow raised when you turn back to face her.  “The man is trying to fuck you.  I’ll be right here after he does, waiting to say I told you so.”

You sputter a laugh into the rim of your glass.

“We’ll see about that, T.”

*************************

Nothing ruins the end of a night of drinking quite like last call.

All the fun screeches to a halt when the house lights come on.  No one looks good under the harsh fluorescents that hum to life as tabs are being paid and drinks are being slammed and tables are being wiped -- no one.

Well, no one except for Jeon Jungkook, of course.

He’s in the weeds tonight -- trying to settle tabs for at least twenty people all trying to cash out at the same time.  He nods in your direction to confirm he’s seen you, that he’ll get to you -- that eventually you’ll get your chance to pay.

So you wait.  And wait.

The crowd starts to thin as Jungkook closes tabs at top speed -- tip jar flush with obscene amounts of cash.  No one tips better than people who make a living on them -- and tonight is no exception.  From what you can tell it’s been a good night for Jungkook.  

Hell, every night is probably a good night when you’re Jeon Jungkook.

You sip what’s left of your vodka tonic and scroll through your phone while you patiently wait for your turn -- then promptly lose track of time.

How long have you been sitting here? 

It’s only when your ears pick up on the echo in this place that you look up from the screen.  Jungkook is cashing some guy out -- and as you take a look around you realize this guy must be the last person in this place. 

Correction -- you are the last person in this place, or at least you will be in about thirty seconds. 

Your pulse picks up as Jungkook wraps the transaction and sends the guy out the door with a friendly wave.  You’re definitely the only two people left in The Black Swan now, no doubt.

“So uh -- ” you drag the sound out on a nervous breath, “ -- I still need to pay my tab.”

Jungkook flips the house lights back off before sauntering to your end of the bar, wearing his most dangerous smile. He dries his hands with the towel at his waist then sets it aside.

“Your tab was paid hours ago.”

Oh.

“Because you paid it,” you say slowly, forcing yourself to drag your eyes from the man’s muscled thighs and trim waist to his flawless face.  Your heart stops a bit at the smirk you find when you finally get there.

“Yup.”

You grab for what’s left of your vodka tonic and slug it down.  

Jungkook laughs.

“You want me,” he says, fingers working the top buttons of his fitted shirt open.  You watch with wide eyes, so distracted by the action that you barely process what he’s said.

“Wait, what?” you ask in a daze.

“You want me,” he repeats casually, like it’s no big deal.  His fingers stop only a few buttons down, the tease -- but he chooses that same moment to pull his hair out of the loose knot he’s been wearing all night.  The dark strands fall into his face and you stare like a moron.

“What makes you say that?” you ask, weakly.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Jungkook teases.  “My vision is 20/20.  My hearing is pretty good, too -- though it would be pretty hard not to overhear the things you and your friends say about me.”

Dammit, Tifa, I told you to keep your voice down.

“Yikes,” you murmur on a shaky laugh.  “That’s embarrassing.”

“Doesn’t have to be,” he says with no hesitation.  “‘Cause I want you, too.”

You pull back from the bar so far, your stool nearly tips over. Jungkook waits for you to right yourself in amused silence.  Then he waits for you to speak.

“I’m, I  -- “ you sputter, searching for things like words and thoughts.  Jungkook’s brows lift as he awaits whatever is on the other end of that sentence.  “ -- I think I need another drink.”

Jungkook winks before reaching down to pull glasses from under the bar.  He sets a brown bottle with a familiar orange label down beside them.  You hold your breath when you see him walk out from behind the bar to slide into the stool next to yours.

“Fireball,” you say thickly, watching him pour the cinnamon liqueur into the shot glasses.  He nods, handing you your glass.

“Think this will help?” he asks, smiling wickedly.  

“No way to know but to do it,” you smile back.

You clink the glasses together before draining them.

You can almost feel the alcohol working its way through your veins.  The warm burn of it starts in your throat, slides low into your belly and spreads out through your arms and legs.  

“Think that did the trick?” he asks in a low voice, dark eyes fixed on your every move.  He leans closer.

“I don’t know,” you admit. He’s close enough now you can smell the warm cinnamon on his breath.  Between the booze and the hormones, you’re starting to feel a little reckless.  “That depends.  Are you trying to fuck me in this bar?”

“Absolutely,” Jungkook deadpans.  You suck in a breath.

“Then I think we’ll probably need one more.”

Jungkook chuckles as he refills your glasses.  His eyes glint with unconcealed mischief when you knock the second round back.  This time, the warmth that spreads down your throat seems to pool between your thighs.

You dip the pad of one finger into the remnants left in the shotglass, emboldened by the buzz you can feel coming on.  Jungkook watches rapt as you slip it between your lips.  You are weightless and shameless by now, more than prepared for the moment he slips two fingers under your jaw to tip your mouth up towards his.  

He tastes like the pleasant spice in the alcohol and he smells like sweat and bodywash and your senses are overwhelmed.  Your fingers dive right into his hair, desperate to feel the silky strands between your fingertips.

“Fireball was a good idea,” Jungkook groans between kisses, hands going to your back to pull you close.  You stand out of your barstool to position yourself between his thighs.  “I like the way you think.”

He pulls away to tug at the hem of your shirt. 

“Take this off,” he orders with a quiet authority that makes you desperate to comply. His eyes are heavy-lidded; glued to the nipples pebbling underneath the thin cotton.  You cross your arms across your body and lift the shirt over your head.

Jungkook doesn’t bother to take your bra off.  You jolt with surprise when he surges forward, mouth seeking the skin peeking out of the soft cups.  He plants hot, open-mouthed kisses across the heated flesh before leaning low to graze the outline of one nipple.  You jerk at the sensation -- at the way his lips and tongue and teeth make the fabric rub against the straining buds.

“Oh, God,” you hiss, “That feels good.”

Jungkook pushes the straps of your bra off your shoulders, eyes dark and focused when your breasts spill out of the cups and your nipples are exposed to the cool air in the bar.  You shudder.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, touching his tongue to your nipples now without a barrier.  You allow yourself to run your fingers through his hair again, anchoring yourself to him to keep steady in the onslaught.

It’s bad manners that you haven’t pulled yourself together enough to thank him for the compliment, but how can you be expected to think straight when his teeth are scraping against your nipples? 

Jungkook pauses to look up at you -- eyes smoldering, lips swollen with use -- and you squirm in his hold.  “You should take these jeans off,” he whispers, fingers slipping into the belt loops. He tugs at them gently. “I wouldn’t want them to get wet.”

Oh honey -- that ship has sailed.

You nod slowly and Jungkook leans back in his stool, eyes hooded as you unbutton the denim, slide it down your legs and step out of it.  

“You gonna take any clothes off, or am I the only one stripping tonight?” you tease, shivering at the loss of his body heat. 

A slow smile spreads over his face. “We’re getting to that, I promise.”

He reaches across the bar for the bottle of Fireball and your mouth falls open in surprise.

“Wait, are you gonna -- “

“Yeah,” he cuts in, dripping the cool liquid onto your breast.  His lips swipe at the liqueur that spills over your nipple and you groan out loud.  “I own this bar,” he teases, his warm tongue a stark contrast to the cold alcohol.  “I can do whatever I want in here.”

You certainly can.

He drips more of the liquid onto a nipple and watches with satisfaction as it slides down your skin.  He laps at the cinnamon taste as his hands roam the sensitive skin of your stomach and down to the band of your panties.  Your breath hitches in your chest.

“I can do whatever I want on here, too,” he smirks, nodding at the bar.  You laugh.

“You’re the boss, right?”

“Exactly,” Jungkook winks, before his hands drop to your waist. His grip is firm as he helps lift you on to the bartop. 

You brace your hands against the wood and watch as he slips his fingers under the satin seam of your panties.  In this position, you have a front-row seat to what is sure to be the hottest sexual experience of your life.  Jungkook’s brows knit in concentration and his tongue swipes across his lips as he pulls your soaking panties away from your legs.  The sight of him preparing to debauch you on top of his bar alone could make you come.

He steadies you with firm hands to either side of your hips before dipping his head down to test your taste with a light flick of his tongue.  You buck in his grasp and he muffles his laughter against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.  “You’re not allowed to fall off of my bar,” he teases.  “Agreed?”

“Agreed,” you laugh, fingertips gripping the bartop for dear life.  

Jungkook pulls his mouth away from your aching center and you damned near whine at the loss of his warmth.  But in a split-second he’s back, and so is the Fireball.  

“Just a little,” he rasps, tipping the bottle to the side.  You hiss as the frigid liquid seeps down into the crux of your thighs.  Jungkook purses his lips and blows a puff of air against you, sparking an intense tingling sensation and earning a loud whimper.  He’s satisfied with your response, if the look on his face is any indication  --  but his wicked smile disappears from view when he lowers his mouth to your center again.

“Fuck,” you gasp, head dropping back between your shoulders. “God, that feels good.”

“Tell me what it feels like,” he whispers, slipping one long, calloused finger into your channel.  The added sensation makes you whine when he swipes his tongue against your clit.  

“Like --,” you gasp and try again to formulate a thought. “Like fire and ice.”

He hums his approval of that assessment right into your cunt and you nearly break your promise not to fall off his bar.  Your arms are shaking with the same tension that is building between your legs. Jungkook pulls back to drip more of the Fireball onto your sensitive center and you shudder.

The alcohol burns a bit, a pleasant pain that is somehow heightened by Jungkook’s warm, wet mouth.  He doesn’t rush, seemingly content to take his time as you slowly come undone. 

“I’m so close,” you whimper, elbows threatening to buckle underneath you.  Jungkook finally picks up the pace, tonguing you deep as your thighs tighten in anticipation.

“I can feel how bad you want to come, sweetheart,” he goads, finger crooking inside of you, stimulating that spot that makes you feel like you can’t see straight.  “Do it.”

The moans Jungkook pulls from you in those final seconds are made all the more obscene by the echoing inside this empty bar.  Every muscle in your body tightens and then melts as your orgasm hits with the intensity of a freight train.  Jungkook seals his mouth over your cunt to capture the wetness he’s earned, prolonging the sensations, prolonging your moans. 

It takes a moment for the roar in your ears to subside, for your ability to focus to return.  When you can hear and see and think again, you look back down to the space between your thighs and find Jungkook wearing a look of utter satisfaction.

“Believe it or not, that’s the first time I’ve eaten pussy on top of my bar,” he teases, dimples emerging as his lips quirk into a smile.  “How has your service been tonight?”

“Pretty good,” you taunt, a lot ballsier with a few shots and an orgasm under your belt.  “Would be a hell of a lot better if my bartender would take his clothes off.”

Jungkook feigns a wounded look as his fingers work the rest of the buttons on his shirt open to reveal a tight white tank underneath.  He pulls that overhead and reveals the body you’ve been fantasizing about for so long.  Whatever you’d imagined was lying underneath those clothes pales in comparison to the real thing.  His body looks cut from stone, his smooth skin the perfect canvas for the tattoos that run across his arms and onto his chest.

“Better now?” he chuckles.

“Not yet,” you say, savoring the power of your position on the bar.  You watch his one-woman striptease with the hint of a smile on your lips.  “The jeans have to go.”

“Bossy,” he mocks, fingers unbuttoning the dark denim.  Your jaw drops about the same time the jeans do.

“Well,” you laugh, slipping down off of the bar to stand in front of him.  “Your review has just improved.”

He smiles into the kiss you plant on him as your fingers snake between you to wrap around his cock.  He thrusts firmly into the tight grasp of your fingers as his tongue delves deep into your mouth.  He sucks in a breath when your thumb teases as the moisture gathered at the tip of his cock.

“My cock is gonna explode if I don’t bury it between those thighs,” Jungkook groans and you shudder from head to toe.  “Turn around for me.”

You do as you're told, turning away from him to brace your weight against the bartop.  You can see Jungkook’s reflection in the mirror that lines the back wall of the bar.  You watch as he grabs a condom from the back pocket of his jeans and makes quick work of rolling it down his thick length.

He presses the length of his warm body against yours, and you tense when the blunt head of his cock teases your entrance.  One hand lines up his cock and the other grips the soft skin of your hip.  He looks at you in the reflection of the mirror and your knees almost give out when he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Let me in, sweetheart.”

You arch back just as he sinks inside -- going to the hilt in one firm stroke.  

“Shit,” he groans between gritted teeth. “Fuck, that’s a tight fit.”

“Oh, God --” you gasp as he begins to rock against you.  After a few languid strokes he sets a steady rhythm, hips smacking against your ass with the force of his thrusts.

He leans over you, bracketing you in with one arm braced on the bar while the other helps guide your hip.  Your eyes fall closed and your head drops forward as you push back against him, rendered boneless by the thick slide of his cock.  The sound of his skin slapping against yours echoes loud in the empty bar.

Jungkook leans down to take your earlobe between his teeth and you whimper.

“Look at me,” he orders in a whisper.  “Open your eyes.”

Your eyes snap open to find Jungkook’s reflection and the sight nearly makes you come undone for a second time.  His damp hair is falling into his face, body covered in a sheen of sweat and his mouth is curled into a dangerous smile.

“That’s it,” he murmurs when your eyes meet in the mirror.  “I want you to see how good you’re getting fucked.”

Your rhythm falters at his provocation but Jungkook refuses to let either of you get off track.  He drops both hands to your hips and begins pounding into you with relentless strokes, huffing a laugh when you squeak in response.

“Just like that, sweetheart,” he groans, thrusts going frantic.  “Can you come for me again?”

You nod -- completely out of words -- reaching one hand down to the aching button between your thighs.  Jungkook pulls your body back against his, angling deeper into your aching cunt at the same time your shaking fingers manage to apply a light pressure to your clit.  

That’s all it takes.

You come apart a second later and Jungkook pulls your hair back to expose the column of your throat as he rides you through it.  His teeth scrape against the sensitive skin of your neck as his own orgasm starts to ignite.

His fingers grip your hips so hard you’re certain there will be bruises in the morning.  But it’s worth it -- so damned worth it when you get to watch Jeon Jungkook come undone for you.  You’ve never seen anything sexier than Jungkook with brows knit in utter concentration, mouth slack with pleasure and coming for you.  Inside of you.

 You lean against the bar, legs like noodles as he comes down from his high and seconds later, he’s slumped over you, body lax against yours.

“Hey,” he says after a moment of silence, as you’re catching your breath.  He leans his chin against your shoulder.

“Yeah?” you manage, craning your head to face him.

“Come back tomorrow and we can break open my bottle of Goldschläger.”

*********************

You wake with an ache between your temples and an ache between your legs. 

The pounding in your head is your punishment for drinking way more than you should have last night.  

The pleasant soreness lingering between your thighs is an entirely different story.  That’s the only souvenir you get to keep to commemorate the best sex of your life.  And it’s not going to stick around.

You roll over in bed and reach for your phone.

Tifa picks up on the first ring.

“I’m not even going to play the game with you, girl,” she says, in lieu of a proper greeting. “I just wanna know how it was.”

***********************

[starshipsofstarlord]

Hey!!! I'm so glad you liked the blurb night idea :) 💞 Can I request a blurb with Peter bumping into the reader while she's kinda lost at times square and he's dressed as spiderman so he tries to flirt with you, but it makes you laugh instead?

I loved the idea hun, thankyou sm for helping me with this idea xxx

“You’re a guy?”

Pairing | Peter Parker x reader

Summary | based on the request

Warnings | mentions of crime, brief mention of death and drugs, mention of sex

2K blurb masterlist

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

“And there was this girl. She was really pretty, but-“ May quirked her head at her nephew, hardly understanding his blabber as he sped through his words like he was racing verbally against a cheetah, though, she was manage to uncover that particular sentence.

“Whoa, slow down kiddo.” His aunt laughed lightly, bracing her shoulders on his arms as he caught his overexcited breath. “How about you start from the beginning, and take a breath?” May had much practice with calming the boy down, she sincerely remembered how that night his parents had dropped him off, how worried he had been for them not to return. And they didn’t.

Peter bobbed his head in a eager nod, doing as he was recommended by his legal guardian, puffing the air in through his cheeks, as he inhaled and exhaled normally through his nose.“I was out patrolling the city, checking out for any bad guys, and then, I saw her...” her, the girl that had captured his attention, and distracted him from his friendly neighbourhood duties. She was much like a magnet, pulling his north face into her axis spinning world, distracting him from the things that he was actually meant to be ensuring did not happen on his watch.

“Weren’t you supposed to be patrolling?” The elder of the two quirked a brow, earning a splutter of a response from the teenager under her roof. She wasn’t a strict guardian concerning his heroic antics, though, she made sure to keep him on track for his own sake. Peter had quite the tendency to become overrun with stress from the amounts of responsibilities that he took on, and him being only young did not help the situation.

“I’m getting to that!” He was fast to defend himself, huffing his chest in as he prepared to tell May his story, from the beginning. It was quite the tale, he’d say, combined with the embarrassment of his own presence entangled in the random and friendly interaction that he had felt promiscuously lulled to create.

Queens, it was new to you. There were so many streets, filled to the brim with people that seemed to know where they were going. Unlike them, you didn’t, in fact, you’d go as far to admit that you were lost. Lost in a place that was known for the chaos that wrapped it off with a tarnished bow, and made the collateral practically fashion within its various newspapers that rounded every corner to divulge their companies’ obscure theories.

A panicked look struck your eyes, as you turned, shaking your head and pressing through the mass of citizens and finding an empty lot, scrolling through your phone, diverting your attention quickly towards google maps. It was the only thing that you could think of, it’d be a shame if you were to disturb one of the many passersby from their clearly packed schedule; you did not need that, nor berating them on your conscience.

“You lost or something?” A voice asked, making your shoulders jump as a figure, twisted in the colours red and blue, with a seam of black fell from the roofs above. Your heart rate imploded, more so when you realised who the mask wearing vigilante was. The wearer, although unknown, was infamous for the successions of saving lives that they had participated in, including defending the galaxy against outside threats.

It was Spiderman, the neighbourhood dubbed avenger, that tried their utmost to return stolen or lost bikes to their rightful owners, and protected banks from armed and overnight robberies. There was known to be something different about this particular hero, they were young and clearly had time to improve their skill set, for they were quite the clutz, and spoke significantly more to those he faced off against than what was necessary.

But this one hero, stood out amongst the rest. Not only was their suit designed by Stark technology, as you had written about in a work article, but it was far more concealing, and not to mention restricting, for the person beneath the red concoction to wear. Yes, you were in town for a new job, specifically to delve into the details that regards the world of heroes, and exploit all possible angles to how they deserved as much recognition for their stunts, as the president received for his noble speeches.

“I-“ you paused, think back over what you were preparing to say. It was without a doubt, that you had not expected the vigilante to appear in your spectacle gaze the first time that you stepped foot on the premises that he roamed, and protected. But here the spider enthusiast was, leaping down to stand beside you, burdening you with more knowledge that you could use, such as the person beneath was not as tall as you had expected, and there was definitely no way you could see their true eyes through the shallow white cases that covered them.

That was something you could write about, and make various descriptive theories about. ‘Seeing in white vision, sparked by the purity that glazed their unknown signature irises, Spider-Man halts all with the sparing of their true self. They may have reasons for shielding their eyes, much like Daredevil, not needing to see when they are overcome with various other senses that convulse their body into attentiveness,” -no, that sounded absolutely terrible.

And not to mention, if you spread that horrid writing about, Murdoc would be ashamed of ever deciding to get your aid in uncovering the route of the villainous underworld, that had take over Hell’s Kitchen and turned it into their own ring for drugs and more. The battle of New York had many repercussions, that being one, another influencing you into the career choice of being said reporter that you now proclaimed yourself as.

“Yeah, I am.” You responded with the company of a smile, and Peter swore he could feel his heart convulse beneath his suit. It’s pace was vaguely rapid, disheartening him from thinking of any more to say, he was practically speechless. “I’m looking for New York Times, you ever heard of it?” Yes, he most definitely had, it was the average run of the mill newspaper company, though, he did not know that you intended to change that into something much more.

“Funnily enough I have.” He scratched the back of his head, his arm subconsciously flexing as he did so, feeling like he had failed as your eyes remained focused on the wideness of his suit’s intense eyes. “It’s about three blocks from here, I could take you there if you want, I have nothing more to do.” From his proclamation you quirked a brow, crossing your arms amusedly.

“Don’t you have a city to watch over?” You asked, watching as Spider-Man’s false eyes widened, and he visibly panicked, realising that you had been right. “I’ll find my way, I’ve been to New York, many a time, Queens is bound to be a piece of cake. Also, a map is always handy.” A shrug rippled off your shoulders, Peter watching and walking closer as he thought of something more to add to the initial acquainting conversation.

“I’m Spider-Man.” Inwardly, and beneath his mask, Peter cringed noting how his voice rose, and it could be perceived as boasting. That though was definitely not his intent in the slightest, but he worried of how it may have come across to you. He wasn’t sure how you may have read it as, but a swarm of relief filled his lungs as he watched the corner of your eyes crinkle up, humoured by the tone of his that had significantly heightened. “Im a guy by the way.”

He felt the need to state that, especially considering people’s perceptions in the past. But instantly after saying it, he was regretful, through, he had to admit, he enjoyed listening to you laugh, it was like a melody that he wanted to listen to until the end of time. “You’re a guy?” You released a dramatic gasp, aiding your phoney response. “Yeah, no. I completely thought that you were a girl.” Sarcasm, he had well gotten used to frequency of it thanks to Mr Stark, who... well, he wasn’t around any more.

“You’re funny.” He smiled, shaking his head whence he realised that you could not see his hidden expression. “I don’t know, maybe, would you like to go to coffee with me, if you have time before you have to get to the news place? I mean, I don’t drink that much coffee, I get told that if I have too much caffeine that I get a little hyper, but I mean, I’m trying to ask you out and I have a really bad track record of-“

“Sure.” You spoke, ignoring the map that had finally loaded onto the screen of your phone. It was to your luck that you weren’t required to make your presence known at the business until tomorrow, and there was always time to kill, so you thought screw it, and decided to find it so that you didn’t get lost the approaching day. “Are you going to be wearing that, or you know, take it off?” You pointed at him, making peter surprised.

“It’s not that kind of date.” He quickly responded. “I meant just for a drink, not to hook up in the back of an a- oh, you meant the suit, didn’t you.” With a roll of your eyes, you nodded, pursing your lips together, as Peter felt the rain of relief once more. “Oh, that’s good, not that I wouldn’t want to, you’re gorgeous, that just wasn’t my intent and I’m rambling again, aren’t I?”

“Basically.” You wrinkled your nose, with a laugh, the way you scrunched it up was adorable to Peter. “So I’ll meet you here in two hours, I’ll let you finish up your duties, and change into something that doesn’t make you look you’re wearing a thong, because I can tell you from experience that those things are not comfortable. That good for you Spidey?”

“That works.” He spoke, trying his best to contain his overflowing excitement, biting his lip to do so. “That definitely works.”

“Hi.” The familiar voice of Spider-Man spoke, and you turned around, watching as a young man, not much different in age from yourself rounded the corner. He was clothed in a blue and white chequered flannel, and grey jeans, and you had to say, that whilst the amazing Spider-Man was quite the sight, this was something else.

“Oh, I was waiting for a girl actually.” You informed him, clearly messing with him, as you walked closer, a stretching smile pinning up the corners of your lips. “But I guess you’ll do webslinger.” He could feel his heart racing, but he walked closer, watching as you eyed him, a stranger met with the sight of a vigilante unmasked. “Where to, red and blue?”

“There’s this really good place on main, they sell the best sandwiches. And trust me, once you buy from there, you won’t stop...” the two of you began to walk away together, and towards Peter’s secret destination, where the two of you learnt the others real name.

[pazumane-archive]

Closing Time - Asahi x Reader

Characters: Asahi Azumane, female reader, original female character, small Taichi cameo

Relationships: Asahi Azumane x Reader

Genre: Fluff, hurt/comfort if you squint, SFW but 16+ please

Warnings: Alcohol, general drunken shenanigans, emetophobia (mentions of vomit), bad language

WC: 6.4k

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! This is a totally self-indulgent bedtime-scenario-type story because there is simply not enough Asahi/Reader content out there and I adore him. It’s also my first time writing in 2nd person, so PLEASE feel free to send me any feedback, please just be kind :) I really don’t like to use y/n, so I only used it a couple times towards the end when I wasn’t sure what else to do lol

The preview begins with the bolded text below and fic continues after the cut :)

Reblogs appreciated! <3

You weren’t planning on getting this drunk. But by the time it got to be about 11:30, you didn’t know what else to do. You had put so much effort and energy into making yourself look nice just for your date not to show up. Your roommate was out of town, so instead of going home and pouting, you figured you might as well have some fun while you were out. But you’ve never been good at exercising restraint, and the fact that you were alone wasn’t doing you any favors. But by closing time had rolled around, you could hardly see straight. You needed help, so you call upon an old friend.

“Do you have anybody you can call for a ride?” Kawanishi asks.

Kawanishi’s the bartender at this izakaya, and over the course of the night, you spent most of the time talking his ear off. He’s nice enough, and held pleasant conversation for the last few hours. He says he used to be a volleyball player, and had even played on the same team as a one of the guys on the Japan National Team. You forget to ask him which school he attended, but he probably was tired of talking to your drunk ass anyway, so you don’t bother asking. “Yeah,” you say, digging in your purse for your phone. “Are you sure? I can call a cab for you if you need it,” he offers. “Nah,” you say, hiccupping between words. “I’ll call somebody. Thank you though.” “No problem,” he says. “Just try to make it quick.” You scroll through your phone, trying to figure out who to call. Your roommate’s out of town visiting her parents, so she’s a no-go. You could call Kokomi. Honestly, she would deserve the 2AM phone call for setting you up on this failed blind date in the first place. Ever since you moved to Tokyo last month, she was constantly trying to set you up with somebody, whether it was a friend, a coworker, or some rando that she had met on the train. Unfortunately, all of them were jerks. And this one was the biggest jerk of all. You silently curse yourself for going along with her antics again.

“He’s great, you’ll love him!” “You said that about the last three guys you tried to set me up with, Kokomi.” “Please!! You’ll never know if you don’t even give him a chance.”

Well, you gave him a chance. And it ended up with you all alone, drunk as hell in an unfamiliar part of the city. You dial Kokomi’s number, but it goes straight to voicemail. “Bitch,” you mutter. You unlock your phone again and look through to find somebody that might be able to take you home. You scroll back to the top of your contact list, and your eyes settle on another name. He lives just a few blocks away, and knowing him, he’s probably awake working on something anyway. You click on his contact and wait for him to answer.

*

The exhaustion’s starting to get to him. It’s the weekend and he can afford to stay up an extra couple of hours to finish this design, but the combination of fatigue and frustration are taking over. He sets down his pencil and moves towards his bed, until his cell starts to buzz. He glances over at the clock on the wall. 1:49 AM.

Who could possibly be calling at this hour?

Asahi picks up his phone, surprised to see your name on the screen. His heart skips a beat in his chest, both from excitement and nervousness. Aside from his teammates, you’re one of the only people he bothered to keep in contact with after high school. The two of you had even met up a few times since you moved to the city, but he never would have expected you to call at this hour unless… unless something is wrong. “Hey you, what’s up?” He says, choking back a yawn. “Hiiiii Asahiiii!  I tried to call Kokomi but she didn’t answer her phone… could you come pick me up?” Your voice is thick and your words are almost unintelligible as you speak. It’s obvious that you’re far from sober. “Where are you?” Asahi asks, failing to mask the anxiety in his voice. “Are you okay? Are you safe?” “M’fine,” you slur. “But I…” Suddenly the call drops. Asahi calls you back in a panic, his heart racing as he waited for you to answer. You could be in danger and he’d be powerless to help you. He doesn’t even know where you are. “Hello?” A man’s voice comes through the speaker. “Who are you? Where is she?” Asahi asks frantically. “Relax, man. I’m just the bartender,” he says. “Look, your friend’s next to me, but she’s on the verge of passing out. Can you come get her before she pukes all over my bar? She’s at Zoetrope. You know where that is?” “Of course, I’m on my way now! I’ll be there in ten minutes,” Asahi says, grabbing his apartment keys and putting on a pair of shoes. He’s out the door almost immediately.

*

Kawanishi presses your phone back into your hands. Your head is spinning so fast that you struggle to keep your eyes open. “Is he coming?” you ask. “Yeah, he’s on the way,” Kawanishi says. “He’ll be here soon. Now do me a favor, don’t get this drunk the next time you come into my izakaya or I’ll have to kick you out.” “You’re kicking me out???” “Only if you start throwing up,” he says under his breath. “I’m not going to throw up!” you exclaim, suddenly becoming very aware of the churning in your stomach. You grumble, slumping over the bar. You squeeze your eyes shut, the spinning in your head only getting worse with every breath you take. You feel like you’re going to die, and honestly, between the embarrassment of being stood up and the wave of nausea coming over you, you’re ready to welcome that death with open arms. “Hey!” Kawanishi says, smacking the bar next to your head. “Your friend’s going to be here soon, don’t fall asleep or I’ll throw you out on the street myself.” “I’m sorry, Kawanishi-san.” You sit up slowly and cradle your head in your hands once more, trying to make the world stop spinning.

Please get here soon, Asahi.

*

Asahi sprints down the street as fast as he can towards the izakaya. He’s sure that he looks suspicious running down the street alone at night, but he doesn’t care. You’re in trouble, and he’s the only person that can help you. He finally makes it to the bar and hastily pulls the door open. You’re dressed beautifully, and your makeup and hair are exquisitely done. Unfortunately, the way you’re slumped over the bar makes it obvious that something’s wrong. He’s not sure what happened, but whatever it was, it must have been rough. The bartender gently helps you out of your seat, and Asahi can’t help but think that he looks very familiar. You straighten up and as soon as you make eye contact with Asahi, you perk up. “Asahi-san!” you exclaim, rushing towards him and almost falling over. You crush him in an unexpectedly tight hug. “Long time no see, big guy!” “I saw you three days ago,” he says under his breath. You continue babbling unintelligibly, and Asahi looks up at the bartender. “Did she close out her tab?” Asahi asks. “I took care of it already,” the bartender replies. “Please just make sure she gets home okay. She’s had a rough night.” “Yeah, of course,” Asahi says. “Thanks for helping her out.” “No problem.” Asahi peels your arms off him and starts to nudge you towards the door. Just before the two of you leave, Asahi stops and turns back to the bartender. “Have we met before?” he asks. “I played for Shiratorizawa. Didn’t think I’d see you again, Karasuno Samurai.” Asahi frowns slightly. He hasn’t heard that nickname high school, and it’s weird hearing it again now. “Right,” he says. “Well, thanks again. Have a good night.” Asahi leads you out of the bar and down the sidewalk. You hold tightly to his arm, stumbling over yourself. He braces you against his side, and you take this opportunity to tease him a little bit. “Do you like my outfit, Asahi-san?” you ask, pressing into his side. “Yeah, it’s really nice!” he answers nervously, turning his head to hide the blush creeping up his cheeks. He’s not lying – you look beautiful, both your top and your skirt accentuating your curves in all the right places. But it would be wrong to say anything more than that while you’re in this state. That wouldn’t be fair to either of you. He brusquely clears his throat and keeps walking as soon as the light signals that you can cross. “I dressed up extra nice tonight, but it didn’t even fucking matter,” you grumble, your voice breaking slightly. Asahi either doesn’t hear you, or does hear you and decides not to say anything. “I’m soooo glad you’re here,” you say, drawing out your words even longer than you were a minute ago. “I’m sorry, this is super embarrassing! I should’ve figured this out on my own.” “It’s okay,” Asahi says. “How long have you been in Tokyo again?” “A month? I think?” “Exactly,” he says. “You probably don’t know your way around that much. I’d feel terrible if I wasn’t able to help you find your way home.” “Meh,” you say. “I’ve had the worst night of my fucking life, so maybe it would be better if I passed out in a ditch somewhere.” “Do you want to talk about it?” Asahi asks. “No,” you answer quickly. “Okay.” You start blathering again and Asahi has to practically drag you down the street behind him. The station just past his apartment has a train that can drop you right by your building. He can just take a cab back after he gets you home. He considers inviting you stay the night at his place since it’s right there, but he’s afraid of being weird, so he doesn’t say anything. The two of you come to a stop at the train station… which is closed. “I’m sorry,” Asahi says remorsefully. “I guess the train stopped running at midnight. I’ll call you a cab.” He goes to pull his phone out of his pocket, but you grab his hand before he can. “Can I stay at your place tonight?” you ask sheepishly. “I… my roommate is out of town. And I’m really not doing good right now. I just really don’t want to be alone.” Despite how out of it you’ve been since he picked you up, Asahi sees nothing but complete sincerity in your eyes. Tonight must have been really rough. “Are you sure?” he asks. “I’ll just sleep on the couch- or a futon if you have one!” you say, nodding. “Okay.” Asahi turns back towards his apartment and you follow closely behind him, not letting go of his hand the entire time.

*

Asahi helps you across the threshold of his apartment and sits you down on a chair by the door. “Asahi-san, you’re so handsome with your hair down like that,” you say, reaching up to twirl a finger in his long chestnut tresses. “And you’re loopy,” Asahi mutters, disentangling your fingers from his hair. Once again, he finds himself hiding a blush. He’s not used to being showered with compliments, and he knows you wouldn’t be saying this stuff if you were sober. He kicks off his shoes and kneels down in front of you, helping you take yours off. “How are you feeling?” he asks you. “Can I get you some water or a some–” “Why didn’t you ask me out when we were in high school?” you ask suddenly. “I think I made it pretty obvious that I had a crush on you. It’s all I could think about when you were holding my hand back there.” “I – I, uh,” Asahi stammers. You burst out laughing, startling Asahi. It’s that same boisterous laugh you’ve had for as long as he could remember knowing you. You were always self-conscious about it in high school, but your laugh has always been one of Asahi’s favorite things about you. Despite the fact that it’s at his expense, he’s glad to see your mood improve. Asahi considers your question for a moment. He really liked you too back then, and everyone knew it. Suga and Daichi constantly teased him for it.

So why hadn’t he asked you out back then?

Well, for a number of reasons. He spent so much of his third year focused on volleyball that he didn’t have the mental or emotional capacity for much else. He hadn’t even planned on going back to school after graduation until Nishinoya helped convince him to pursue his passions. He felt directionless, and he didn’t want to burden anybody else with his indecision. But most importantly, he was scared you’d reject him. Suga was right. He really was a coward. He’d dated a few people since high school graduation, but none of them made him feel the way you did, and they didn’t treat him as well as you would have. Which begs the question – why hasn’t he asked you out since you moved to Tokyo? He pushes the thought to the back of his mind. This isn’t the kind of conversation to be having when you aren’t even able to form a coherent sentence. Asahi’s thoughts are interrupted by your hand on his shoulder and a loud hiccup. “I should wash my face. Can I wash my face?” “Sure,” Asahi says, helping you stand up. You stumble forward, but he catches you easily and pulls you back to your feet. He quietly leads you to the bathroom and sits you down on the edge of the bathtub. “I’m sorry,” you say. “I’m a mess.” “No, you’re not. Hold on a second,” he says, opening the drawer under the sink. He pulls out a small package of makeup wipes and takes one out. He kneels in front of you and begins wiping the makeup off your face. “I know they’re not great for your skin,” he says. “But it’s better than nothing, right?” “Why do you even have those?” you ask between hiccups. “Do you wear makeup? I mean, it’s obviously fine if you do, but it doesn’t really seem like your thing.” “I don’t, but you never know when they’ll come in handy! I do work with a lot of makeup artists,” he says, somewhat defensively. You get the sense that he’s lying about something, but Asahi changes the subject before you can probe him any further. “So what were you doing there by yourself?” he asks. “It’s not safe to be alone so late at night.” Clearly this was the wrong thing to ask. All the negative emotions and thoughts you were having all even spring to the forefront of your mind, and you start to cry. Asahi starts apologizing profusely, but you wave him off. “It’s fine,” you sniffle, wiping a tear away from your cheek. “Kokomi was trying to set me up with one of her friends, but he never showed up.” Asahi sits back on his heels. Kokomi is another girl from Karasuno that ended up in Tokyo. She wasn’t in the same class as him, but he remembers how loud she always was in the hallways. Honestly, both of you were always loud, but you’ve always been much more considerate of others than Kokomi ever was. “Shit,” he mumbles. “That really sucks. I’m sorry.” “Yeah. It does suck.” Asahi grabs another wipe and asks you to close your eyes. You do as he says, and he lightly wipes off your eye makeup. He’s worked with enough models to recognize that you’re wearing false eyelashes, so he gently pulls those off too. You feel yourself start to wobble on the edge of the tub, so you grip his arm to steady yourself. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “It’s okay,” he says. “You don’t need to keep apologizing to me.” “Do you think there’s something wrong with me?” you ask suddenly. “Wait, what?” “I just… this keeps happening to me. Everyone always says that it’s because they’re not the right person for me, but it’s starting to feel like there’s just something wrong with me instead,” you say, choking back a sob. “I know I just moved here, but I’m just so lonely. I hate feeling like I’m not good enough.” Asahi tenderly wipes a tear from your cheek and cups your face in both hands. “Hey, look at me. There is nothing wrong with you,” he says sincerely. “That guy is an idiot and a jerk. If he had any idea how extraordinary you are, he never would’ve done that to you.” You can’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes. You don’t feel like you deserve to be spoken to like this – with such genuine kindness and sincerity. Asahi makes you feel so good. So special. He always has. And he’s just so… tender, especially for somebody who looks as intimidating as he does. You wonder if those feelings from high school ever truly went away. You sit up straighter and try to smile at him, but your stomach flips unexpectedly and violently. “Asahi-san?” you ask, gripping his shoulder tightly. “Yeah?” he replies. “Toilet.” Asahi moves out of the way as fast as possible. You hunch over the rim and retch into the toilet bowl. Asahi quickly scoops up your hair and holds it behind your head as you throw up. “Please, just leave me,” you mutter. “I’m gonna fucking die here.” “I’m not going to leave you here and you’re not going to die,” Asahi says, gingerly picking up the last loose strands laying on your neck and holding them back with the rest of your hair. Your back tenses up again before you begin heaving once more. Asahi tucks his nose into the collar of his shirt, careful to make sure that he’s out of your field of vision. He wants to be there for you but he had a weak stomach himself and the sight and smell of somebody else’s vomit is something he knows he won’t be able to handle. You mumble weak apologies between hacks, but Asahi just ignores them and rubs your back gently. After what feels like an eternity, the churning in your stomach finally stops and you reach up towards the flush handle. The exhaustion in your body and heart finally begin to catch up with you, and your hand falls back to your side. “I got it. Do you think you’re done?” Asahi asks, coaxing you back up into a seated position. You nod, too tired to try to speak. Asahi quickly tugs his shirt back down from his face before you can see and closes the toilet lid. “I’m sorry,” you mumble. “Don’t be,” Asahi says, flushing the toilet. “I’m your friend. I want to help you. And I’ve already told you that you don’t need to apologize to me.” Asahi helps you sit on the top of the toilet and rises to his feet. “Don’t go anywhere,” he says, scurrying out of the room. Although your eyes are closed, you still feel your body swaying. More than anything, you just want to go to sleep. Asahi pads back into the room and presses a wooden cup into your hands. “Drink this,” he says, turning on the faucet. Even though drinking something is the last thing you want to be doing right now, you go ahead and lift the cup to your open mouth. Cold water passes your lips and washes away some of the disgusting taste in your mouth. It feels gross, but you force yourself to drink all of it. Asahi takes the cup from your hand and turns the faucet back off. You flinch at the feeling of a damp washcloth on your face. “It’s okay,” Asahi says gently, cradling your chin with his free hand and angling your face up. “Just cleaning you up a little.” You murmur in acknowledgement and Asahi continues to wipe your face down. You almost fall asleep sitting on his toilet, but he gently shakes you to keep you awake. “Stay with me for another minute,” he says softly. “You can go to sleep soon. You’re gonna be just fine. I promise.” His words and his voice are so sweet that you want to cry. A couple rogue tears drip from your eyes and onto his hands. “I’m sorry,” you say once more. Asahi sets the washcloth on the counter and starts to pull you to your feet. You struggle to stay on your feet, so instead, he carefully scoops you into his arms and carries you out the bathroom. You don’t care where you go, you just need to sleep. Asahi’s pretty certain you’re asleep by the time he deposits you on his mattress. Your chest rises and falls slowly as he pulls his duvet over you. He begins to make his way to the couch, but stops when he feels you grab his hand. “Please don’t go, Asahi-san,” you whisper. “Please.” You tug harder at his fingers and he knows he can’t refuse you. He ends up sitting on the edge of the bed holding your hand until you fall asleep.

*

As soon as your quiet snores permeate the silence, Asahi untangles his fingers from yours. He brushes a loose strand of hair out of your face and he can’t help but let his eyes linger on your sleeping face for just a moment. The moonlight trickling through the window illuminates your hair and casts a silvery glow on your skin. Despite the awful night you’ve had, you look absolutely radiant. He feels himself blushing again, but he takes some comfort in the fact that he doesn’t have to try and hide it this time. Not while you’re fast asleep in his bed. He’s far too scared to admit it, even to himself, but he’s fantasized about falling asleep next to you many times before. But in those fantasies you weren’t drunk and crying over another man. Asahi sighs, stands up, and moves over to the dresser as quietly as he can. After setting a few things out for you, he goes into the bathroom, gets ready for bed and heads to the couch for the night.

*

By the time you wake up in the morning, you feel like you’re going to die. You can’t remember what exactly happened the previous night. The last thing you remember clearly was talking to the bartender about high school volleyball, of all things. Your head’s pounding, and your stomach aches painfully, screaming at you to please eat something. You don’t open your eyes, fearing that it would somehow trigger another round of vomiting. Eventually, you force yourself into a seated position and open your eyes. The bedroom you’re in is small, but pretty well-decorated. It’s decently tidy. The only mess is a few crumpled up clothing designs discarded on the floor next to the trash bin.

Designs? Did that mean?

You’re at Asahi’s apartment. In his bed. Your eyes widen in panic.

  What happened last night?

You’re still wearing the clothes that you wore to the bar last night. And there’s no evidence of him ever being in bed with you. You reach over towards your phone, which has been graciously plugged in for you and set on the bedside table. That’s when you notice the note along with a sleeve of crackers and a glass of ginger ale.

Good morning!

There’s a set of clothes you can wear at the foot of the bed and a spare toothbrush in the bathroom. Feel free to take a shower if you want. Extra towels are underneath the sink. Please have something to eat and drink too. You’ll feel better if you do.

-Asahi

P.S. Please don’t feel bad. It’s okay.

You grab a few of the crackers from the bedside table and eat them, washing them down with the ginger ale.

Why does Asahi have to be so damn considerate? The whole situation is so embarrassing.

You contemplate just grabbing your phone and getting the hell out of his apartment, but you’re not going to pass up the opportunity to shower. You finish the last of the crackers, chug down the ginger ale, and grab the spare clothes at the end of the bed. You turn the doorknob as silently as you can and awkwardly creep down the hall towards the bathroom, stopping briefly to peek in the living room. Asahi’s fast asleep on the couch, clad only in pajama pants and a pair of fuzzy socks. His hair is down and messily splayed across the throw pillow he’s resting his head on. Quiet snores pass his lips. He looks cute. Your eyes trail from his face and down to his stomach. Despite quitting volleyball after high school, he seems to have mostly maintained his athletic form, except for a tiny little layer of pudge on his lower stomach. The corners of your lips twitch up into a smile, until that little voice in the back of your mind reminds you of your place.

Quit staring, you perv! You need to get out of here!

You hurriedly continue down the hallway and jump into the shower as soon as you get into the bathroom. You think that maybe if you clean up fast enough, you can get out of Asahi’s apartment before he wakes up. However, as soon as you step into the shower, all worries about rushing out disappear into the back of your mind. You bask in the hot water, the steam clearing your sinuses and relieving some of the pain in your head. You silently thank the gods that Asahi actually uses conditioner, and not just 3-in-1 like most of the other men you were previously…. acquainted with. Although, it makes sense to you that somebody with hair like Asahi’s would have a strict haircare routine. As you shower, fragmented memories of last night start to come back to you.

Being stood up at the bar. Calling Asahi for help. Puking your guts out in his bathroom. Him carrying you into his room and laying you down on his bed. Him staying by your side until you fell asleep. You wishing he would’ve crawled into bed with you and held you through the night… Wait, what was that last part?

As soon as you’re done rinsing the conditioner from your hair, you step out of the shower and swiftly towel off. You find the spare toothbrush Asahi mentioned, take it out of the packaging, and brush your teeth with his toothpaste. The dry, gross feeling in your mouth is quickly replaced with a minty fresh taste. You slip on the sweatpants and t-shirt that Asahi left for you and dry your hair. Thankfully, Asahi isn’t as huge as most people make him out to be, so while the clothes he left out are a bit big on you, you’re not drowning in them. You’ll just bring them back some other day. You start combing through your hair, and that’s when you hear it – the sound of somebody padding around in the apartment. Shit. Once the footsteps quiet down, you rush out of the bathroom and towards the front door. Asahi eyes you as you scoop up your shoes, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Good morning!” he says kindly. “How are you feeling?” “I’m so sorry Azumane-san, it won’t happen again!” you say as you throw open the door and rush into the hallway. “Hold on, wait up!” he says as you pull the door closed behind you. You run all the way to the stairs at the end of the hallway and go to call Kokomi for a ride home. That’s when you realize that your phone is still plugged into the wall in Asahi’s room. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You turn around and trudge back towards his apartment. Before you can even knock, the door opens slowly. Asahi stands there in just his pajama pants, holding your phone out to you. “You shouldn’t leave without your phone,” he says. You thank him and take your phone, a blush creeping up your cheeks. You try not to stare at his bare chest, already feeling like a creep for ogling him while he was sleeping. “Your clothes are still in the bathroom, too,” he says. “I can go get them for you. Or I can just wash them and give them back to you another time if you want to leave.” “No, that’s okay,” you say, covering your flushing cheeks with the collar of his shirt. “I’ll get them. Can I come in?” “Of course.” Asahi steps out of your way and you head straight for the bathroom, avoiding looking in his eyes. Asahi never gets angry, and you know he wouldn’t be mad at you over something like this, but a lingering sense of shame still washes over you. You scoop up your clothes and leave the bathroom. As soon as you cross the threshold into the living room, the smell of coffee and frying fish washes over you. Asahi stands in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. In the time that you were in the bathroom, he put on a Black Jackals sweatshirt and threw his hair into a loose bun. “Do you want a cup of coffee?” he asks, smiling at you and pouring his own cup. “It’ll help with the hangover.” You stand there and ponder his offer for a moment. Sensing your hesitancy, Asahi suddenly turns back to the stove and mumbles something that you can’t quite make out. “What did you say?” you ask. Asahi rubs the back of his neck, a nervous habit he’s had since you were kids. “I don’t mean to pressure you to stay or anything! I just thought it might help for you to have something more than crackers and ginger ale.” “You’ve done plenty to help me since last night,” you say. “But I’ll take that coffee if the offer is still on the table.” “It is!” Asahi says a little too enthusiastically for his own good. You can’t help but smirk as you take your seat at the kitchen table. Asahi pours you a cup of coffee and slides you a bowl of the rice and fish he made. You thank him quietly and start to eat. He slides into the chair across from you and eats his own breakfast, eyeing you carefully. “What?” you ask after catching him staring. “Since when have you ever called me Azumane-san?” he asks. “I don’t know,” you mumble into your coffee mug. “I didn’t think we reverted back from first name basis,” he says. “I thought we knew each other better than that.” “I don’t know,” you say, a devilish smile crossing your face. “Care to explain why you actually had those makeup wipes in your bathroom drawer? I doubt your makeup artists are coming over to your apartment.” Now it’s Asahi’s turn to blush again. “My ex-girlfriend left them here,” he says. “Felt like a waste to just throw them out.” “Ex-girlfriend?!” you exclaim suddenly, startling Asahi and causing him to drop the wipe on the floor. “I didn’t know you were seeing somebody!” “Yeah,” he says, throwing the wipe in the trash and grabbing a fresh one. “We broke up a while before you moved to the city. She left a bunch of her stuff here and refused to come pick it up. I think she was just too embarrassed to see me again. I got rid of most of it a while ago, but I kept some of the more… uh, utilitarian things.” “I’m sorry,” you say sincerely. “Why did you break up?” Asahi feels a slight pang in his chest. He met his last girlfriend through his job. She was nice enough, and things seemed like they were going okay until he showed up at her apartment to surprise her for their 6 month anniversary, only to find another man in her bed. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” you say. “It’s fine. She cheated on me with some other guy,” he says, his expression darkening. “I think they’re engaged now.” “Shit,” you say. “What a bitch.” “Woah, settle down, it’s okay –” “No, it’s not,” you say firmly. “You deserve someone way better than that. Somebody that treats you with the love and respect that you deserve.” Asahi knows you’re right, but he doesn’t really want to press it. That whole mess had done a number on his mental health, and he really doesn’t want to burden you with his emotional baggage. He adjusts his glasses again and forces a smile. “You know, you should really take your own advice,” he says. You try to think back on what you had said to him last night. The details are fuzzy, but you remember crying. A lot. Instead of answering him, you shovel down the last of the rice and fish. “Thank you for the meal,” you say. Asahi smiles and nods at you before beginning to clear the dishes away. You stand up and stop him, insisting that you clean up yourself. As you finish drying the bowls, your phone buzzes. You check it, only to see a handful of missed texts from Kokomi.

Ono Kokomi [8:32} Hey!! Sorry I missed your call. How was he?  (°◡°♡) [9:14] That good?  (^.~)☆ [9:18] Or that bad?! (;;;*_*) [9:57] HELLO?? (ﾉಥ益ಥ)ﾉ [10:32] ARE YOU ALIVE?!?!?!  〣( ºΔº )〣

You roll your eyes and quickly type out your response.

Y/N [10:33] Yeah, no thanks to you. (￢_￢;)

Ono Kokomi [10:34] Was it really that bad?

Y/N [10:34] He didn’t even show up. (╥_╥) [10:34] Azumane picked me up at 2 AM because I was too drunk to go home alone. I stayed the night at his place. [10:34] Speaking of which, can you come pick me up? Not really in a state to take the train and I think you owe me one.

Ono Kokomi [10:35] (⊙_⊙) [10:35] Spill. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Y/N [10:36] There’s nothing to spill. I threw up in his bathroom and he slept on the couch. Can you just answer my question please? (҂` ﾛ ´)凸

Ono Kokomi [10:36] Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m on my way, lovebird. (￣ε￣＠)

“Everything okay?” Asahi asks. “Yeah,” you say, slipping your phone back into your pocket. “Kokomi’s going to come pick me up.” “Are you sure? I can take you if you want,” he offers. “Yeah, she’s already on her way,” you say, setting the bowl down and turning to face him. “Besides, you’ve done more than enough for me already over the last twelve hours.” You silently pick up your things and walk towards the door. Asahi rises from his chair and awkwardly clears his throat. “Do you have all your stuff?” You nod and smile. Before you open the door, you approach him and wrap your arms around his waist. He shyly hugs you back, hoping you can’t hear the rapid pounding in his chest. “Thank you, Asahi,” you whisper. “You’re amazing.” You let go first and leave his apartment quietly. As soon as the door closes, Asahi walks back into the living room and flops down on the couch. He covers his face with his hands and groans. This morning was almost too much for him – seeing you in his clothes, eating breakfast together, you hugging him before you left. It was all so painfully domestic, and he wishes it didn’t have to end. If only he wasn’t such a coward, he would’ve asked you to stay longer. He doesn’t know how long he lays there until he finally decides to get moving for the day and finish that piece he was working on when you called last night. He checks his phone and sees your name pop up on the screen.

Y/N [11:00] I’m home. Thanks again for babysitting me last night. Whatever did I do to deserve you as my guardian angel? ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊˚ [11:00] Or was that Noya-san? I forget. (^ω~)

Azumane Asahi [11:01] Lol. You’re welcome. And that was what we called Noya in our club days, but I don’t mind you calling me that too (* ^ ω ^)

Y/N [11:03] Let me make it up to you. [11:04] Come over for dinner tomorrow night?

Asahi almost drops his phone on his face. His fingers fumble as he types his response. He waits a moment before sending it, rereading it ten times to make sure he doesn’t come across as desperate.

Azumane Asahi [11:07] I’d love to. Do you want me to bring anything?

Y/N [11:08] That’s not necessary. I owe you a nice dinner. [11:09] You still like tonkotsu ramen?

Azumane Asahi [11:10] I do!

Y/N [11:11] It’s a date! See you tomorrow! (☞°ヮ°)☞ ☜(°ヮ°☜)

*

“You said nothing happened last night,” Kokomi says, staring over your shoulder at your phone. “Nothing happened, Kokomi. Now leave me alone,” you snap, tossing one of your throw pillows at her. She deftly catches it and plops down on the couch next to you. “Please,” she says, swatting you with the pillow. “The only reason you two haven’t gotten together is because you’re the densest people on the planet. I bet he’s flopped down on his couch right now thinking about how he doesn’t even want to wait that long to see you.” “Shut up,” you grumble. Kokomi’s phone rings and she quickly checks it. “Anyway, I have to go meet Kaito,” she says. “Got to go. Let me know how your date goes!” She waves and practically skips out the front door. You lay down and start making a shopping list for ingredients for tonkatsu ramen. As soon as you’re done, you set your phone down and cross your arms over your face.

“I bet he’s flopped down on his couch right now thinking about how he doesn’t even want to wait that long to see you.” No, Kokomi. That’s me.

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

hello my favorite writer it is me again i was wondering if i could have another will imagine (gn as usual) and could it be about a reader who feels insecure about being wills partner because they’re still working on being famous and feel like they’re mooching off of wills fame and end up pushing him away slightly and it’s angsty, but ends in fluff with will finally telling them he loves them and reassuring kisses <3

Favorite writer?? You flatter me, darlin', but thank you!

Also, so sorry this took so long! I've been really unmotivated/lazy lately and I wanted to write this as perfect as I possibly could. Also also, ya know how the Powerpuff Girls were made? Sugar, spice, and everything nice but Chemical X was added accidently? Yeah, this is that, but replace Chemical X with a lot of angst. My bad.😬

WARNING: Depressing themes throughout

~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn't often you felt insecure, but you figured it was just one of those days.

You hadn't been in many blockbuster films or tv shows, you were still working hard on your career. You loved the indie projects you worked on, you loved any job where you could act. It was your passion, after all.

You couldn't help feel a little bit insecure when your partner, Will, was where you aspired to be your whole life. He was brilliant, working with amazing people like Tom Hardy and Leonardo DiCaprio. So early in his career too. You looked up to Will so much, praying that you'd be just as talented as him one day. But you knew it wouldn't be easy, acting isn't exactly the easier job in the world, you knew it would take a lucky break.

You always joked that maybe you should work as a waiter in some restaurant, knowing that Edward Norton got his first movie role while working in such a place, only to move on to work beside the amazing Richard Gear.

It was just one day you felt bad about your career, but then it started to snowball into anxiety and depression. It got to the point where it was all you could think about, especially when you were out with Will. And you could tell that he knew something was up, the thousand yard stare that you often had was something that couldn't really go unnoticed.

But for the most part, you acted like everything was fine.

You hated that you let your insecurity pile on and on like this, it normally was something you could handle. You don't know what came over you, but you found yourself scrolling for hours looking at comments on any of your posts. Most people were supportive of you and Will's relationship, and you were thankful for that. But of course, there are always a few bad apples.

The wonderful and lovely, supportive comments were many, outweighing the hate by miles. But just one negative comment could throw you off, ruining your day.

You wished you could just focus on the positive, but unfortunately, that's not how brains are designed. It always has to point out a flaw, find that one odd man out, find the error in the system. Usually, most of those errors can be fixed. You spent your entire life trying to get people to like you, being somewhat of a pushover and a people pleaser, disregarding your own self in favor of praise. So seeing people online hating you for no other reason besides being with Will, seeing that they might never change their minds, it was devastating.

You knew that the hate would usually come from obsessed fans who must've been jealous of you, and you could understand that and it was fine. You remembered the younger years of being jealous of a person who dated your crush, it was something that most people grow out of thankfully. You could get over those comments, saying you weren't good looking enough or not fit enough, any comments about your appearance. The ones that really got to you was the comments about your "horrible" personality.

It was odd, people saying awful things about you when they didn't even know you at all. Most of the contradictory was were amusing. There was a point in time after your relationship with Will was made public, where you'd feel to nervous about going to red carpet events with him. The comments would say, "Y/n's not there with Will? What an unsupportive partner they must be!" or anything similar. But when you started to go with him sometimes, the comments would shift dramatically.

"Y/n's a gold digger."

"They're just using Will for his fame."

"He deserves better than that snake."

It hurt, more than you'd admit. You told Will it didn't bother you that much, just wrote it off that it's normal. Then, you never talked about it again.

You felt awful, every single day. Thoughts of self doubt clouding your brain constantly, thinking, "Am I really deserving of such a kind person like Will?" No matter how you looked at it, the answer was always no.

You started to feel like you shouldn't even be with Will anymore. There was most likely someone else out there, an actor with more talent and more self-sufficient than you were.

You and Will had been together for a couple years, you loved him so much, but when he asked you to move in with him, you said you weren't ready. The biggest lie you ever told, and you instantly regretted it when you saw the disappointed look on his face. But being the gentleman that he is, he said it was completely okay and that there was no pressure.

You absolutely didn't deserve him.

Every time Will asked you to go out with him, you always came up with an excuse to stay home. You felt too anxious about being out in public, the thought of a fan seeing you with Will brought you to the verge of a panic attack. You became distant, trying to distract yourself by throwing yourself into your work. You rarely saw Will anymore, and you knew if you kept up with how you were acting on your insecurity, you'd lose him. But you couldn't bring yourself to try and talk to him about it, you felt too embarrassed.

From Will's point of view, he thought you were becoming distant because of him. He wracked his mind trying to think what was it that he did to make you spend less time with him? At first, he thought, maybe you just needed some space. There were times where he needed to be alone, just like everyone does. But it felt like it was going on for too long. Every time he wanted to take you out somewhere nice, you'd politely decline and you'd opted for a night in.

There came a point where enough was enough, Will was determined to find out what was going on with you.

You stared at your cellphone, the screen lighting up with a picture of Will along with your set ringtone. You sighed, you really didn't feel like answering. You knew you should, but you couldn't bring yourself to. A feeling of dread washed over you, you didn't want him to think you hated him, yet you still couldn't. You rang your fingers through your hair, anxiously scratching your scalp harshly.

Your screen darkened, following with a notification, voicemail and text. "Y/n, what's going on? I've been trying...", you couldn't listen anymore.

"I'm sorry, Will..." You whispered to yourself, wrapping yourself up tightly in a blanket.

You almost screamed when you heard a rapid knock on your door, quickly tensing up when you heard Will call out from outside. "Y/n?"

You wanted to fucking scream.

"I know you're in there, just, please, talk to me."

The desperation in his voice forced you to get up from your couch, tossing away your cozy blanket with a huff. You shakily reached out and opened the door, Will's concerned face filling your view. "...hi."

Will chuckled bitterly. "Hi? That's it? You haven't talked to me in days. What's going on, love?"

"Nothing!" You explained, plastering on a fake smile with a chuckle.

Will smiled sadly. "You're lying." He said simply, pushing his way past you into your home.

"Will, please, I'm not up to talking right now."

"You know, I want to respect your wishes, I really do. But I feel that I've been patient. I've been trying to support you in any way that I can, but I can't help if I don't know what's going on." He sat down on your couch, pleading for you to sit next to him with his eyes. "We used to be open and honest with each other about everything. Tell me what's going on so I can help you."

You huffed, running your hands over your face. "It's not that simple..."

Will casted his gaze to your wooden floor, squeezing his hands together and taking a deep shaky breath. "Is it...is it because it's something I did?"

"What?"

"You're shutting me out. It's because of me, isn't it? I did something-"

"No." You quickly exclaimed, rushing over to his side when you heard his voice waver, taking ahold of one of his hands. "No, it's not you, I promise."

"Then...why? Why are you pushing me away?" Will sighed, biting his lip to keep himself from crying. "Do you not love me anymore?"

"I love you, Will, more than I can express." You chuckled bitterly. "It's hard to talk about."

Will brought a hand up to your face, gently brushing a freshly fallen tear off your face. "You can tell me anything, Y/n, anything."

You smiled weakly, bringing his hand you were holding up to your lips and kissed his knuckles softly. "Okay..." You took a deep breath.

"Take your time, love."

"Being with you, brings me so much happiness that it feels like I'm dreaming. You're so...amazing, and honestly the best and most kind person I've ever met. And I? I feel like I'm nobody."

"Y/n..."

"Compared to others, I'm no one. Just another person trying to live out their dreams that are so far fetched that it doesn't even seem possible to even come close to achieving them. You're so self assured that acting is what you were born to do and you're so talented. I envy you, and I feel so guilty feeling that way. Sometimes I feel like I wasn't meant to be an actor. I feel like...I'm trying to run towards my goal, but every time I make progress, the goal moves farther and farther away until I can't even see it anymore."

"Y/n," Will started softly, "I know how you feel. I've felt that way about my career too. I always wondered if there was going to be a light at the end of the tunnel. Yes, you can work as hard as you humanly can, but it also takes luck. You just have to be at the right place at the right time sometimes. That's why they call it a lucky break, ya know." He smiled, making you giggle tearfully.

"I know, but that's not all." You frowned. "I know you said, it's just better to ignore what the internet has to say, but...I was looking some of our comments a few months ago. And...I just went down a fuckin' rabbit hole. I know I always say that hate comments don't bother me, but...they do. They really do, and I let them get to me. I'm sorry."

"No, darling, I'm sorry. I didn't see what was really going on when I should've."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Will. I thought I was stronger than this."

Will quickly brought you close to his chest, wrapping around your torso with one arm, the other gently cupping your jaw. "Hey, you are the strongest person I know, okay? Don't think you're weak just because you're feeling something that every human on planet earth feels. Whatever those comments said, there's no one I'd rather be with than you." He leaned forward and kissed you gently, pressing his forehead against yours.

"I felt so embarrassed, Will. I wished I had talked to you sooner."

"It doesn't matter now. You opened up and I'm proud of you for that. I love you so much. And I promise to try my very hardest to never let you feel that way again."

~~~~~~~~~~

hope you enjoyed, @fcvcritecrime ! 🖤

[bevvydraws]

The King of LBTwt

I’m so sorry it is almost 3 am and this is probably so bad. It isn’t proofread but I had to get this idea out there. 

Social Media AU Ladrien where Marinette is a VTuber It started off as a joke--mostly. One evening while mindlessly scrolling through her twitter, Marinette stumbled across something interesting someone she followed reblogged. It was a clip of a streamer, who was using a virtual avatar in place of where a face cam would be. Finding this odd, and a little funny, Marinette looked into it a little more. It turned out that this was something that was becoming more and more popular for video game streamers. There were a variety of different characters, with a bunch of unique characteristics. These characters were placeholders for the actual streamers, giving them the anonymity they wanted while giving viewers a face to match the voice to. Marinette had to admit it was a genius concept. 

So of course Marinette did the logical thing, she decided to mess around and create a virtual avatar for herself instead of working on any of the many assignments she had for her university courses. She wasn’t planning on streaming, it was just a fun side project to put her limited art skills to use. Using google and whatever free programs she could get her hands on, Marinette designed what would later be known as the first version of her new persona: Ladybug. 

Ladybug’s cartoon appearance matched up with Marinette’s slightly. Their hair color was the same, with Ladybug’s hair placed in two buns on the top of her head, with little red ribbons sticking out from beneath them. Her eyes were a little more blue, and the proportions were a lot more cartoony. Marinette modeled a mask over her eyes, just a simple spotted mask. She was inspired by one of the many other avatars she’d seen, and figured giving her own character a “schtick” would make designing her more fun--hence the name. 

The truth was, Marinette never intended to stream. She was just going to let the avatar files collect metaphorical dust in the corner of her computer storage, something to run into ever so often and smile fondly at. But, the more Marinette thought about it, the more it felt like an injustice. She spent so long on it, she wanted to be able to use Ladybug at least once. So, while on break between semesters, she decided that streaming ever so often wouldn’t be a big deal. It’s not like she’d have a following, or would have to worry about disturbing anyone. Thanks to the generous compensation she received from Jagged Stone for any and all “fashion emergencies”, she had more than enough money to live comfortably in a small apartment not far from her university.  So what was the harm in streaming her playing some Mecha Strike Online every once in a while? Apparently none. 

In fact, Marinette gained a following rather quickly. While she wasn’t one of the top streamers--not by a long shot--she had a little over a thousand people on her streams some nights. It didn’t matter what she was playing, whether it were Mecha Strike or Stardew Valley, people enjoyed her commentary and sarcasm. Before she knew it, she had to make separate social media accounts to avoid people pretending to be her. 

Marinette didn’t expect to enjoy streaming so much. She made sure to mention often that she was just a casual streamer, and that she wasn’t planning on making this her full time career--her passion was in designing after all--and even made a point to donate a majority of any money she made from streaming to charities. It was a good way to relax, though. And the community was nice enough.

In particular, Marinette enjoyed observing the twitter community. A group of people who enjoyed her content called themselves “LBTwt”. They clipped her streams, made fanart of her avatar, and would randomly tag her in memes. Some people sent her encouragement, and some would simply clown on her in a lighthearted manner. Marinette was amazed by the community, and interacted with them ever so often to show her appreciation. 

There was one user in particular though who seemed to be popping up the most. A twitter user who used the handle “@buggaboy” and had dubbed himself “King of LBTwt”. He tweeted at her more than anyone, commented under all of her posts, and even sent things to her DMs. While Marinette avoided her DMs like the plague, she couldn’t help but laugh at his other interactions with her. He never said things like “thanks bestie” like many others took to doing. Instead, he borderline waxes poetic about the clip of her reading out his “Ladybug my beloved” Super Chat during a YouTube stream.  His tweets were never creepy though, just admiration and respect in a dorky and overly grandeur way.

Marinette enjoyed his antics, and one day found herself scrolling through his Twitter feed. Part of it felt a little egotistical, but she figured he wanted her to see it anyway, considering he tagged her in most of his posts. What posts weren’t dedicated to her were dedicated to his black cat. It was this black cat that led to Marinette’s life taking a wild turn for the second time. 

Because there was only one person who was dorky enough to name their black cat Plagg. And only one person who owned the expansive anime figurine collection in the photo she was staring at on her phone, the familiar black cat pawing at a Naruto figure that she distinctly remembers saving up for as a birthday present. 

The King of LBTwt was none other than Adrien Agreste.

[nhlandotherimagines]

I Want -Matthew Tkachuk

@natbarzal @anastasiyaigorevnadobrodevskaya @jonnytoews19 

I’m so sorry this is sooo late I’ve been super busy lately! I also feel like in an attempt to make this one really good for my boy Matty, I ended up totally overwriting it??

Anyway I hope it’s not too bad! Here we go with blurb number 9 of the Up All Night series! There is some strong language and some angst in here for sure, so fair warning!

Give you this, give you that, blow a kiss, take it back. If I looked inside your brain. I would find lots of things, clothes, shoes, diamond rings. Stuff that's driving me insane!

Matthew wasn’t one to use Instagram much. Sure he posted sometimes and kept up with his teammates and family, but he wasn’t one to read too much into what others posted. That is until he started dating you.

The two of you haven’t been together very long, and you are certainly far from Instagram official, so why was Matthew currently scrolling through your Instagram almost obsessively? Honestly, even he wasn’t sure. Though as he scrolls past each photo, slowly creeping farther into your past, he begins to notice a trend. Every photo staged to perfection, makeup done, hair done, and somewhere in each photo is at least one designer item. A handbag, watches, shoes, sunglasses, even one with a sports cars. Name any big brand, and Matthew is sure he could find it in a picture on your page.

Not a single photo was of you looking like the real you. None contained any of your family and friends. A couple photos included boys who evidently had money, who Matthew was left to assume were boyfriends. It was in that moment a switch flipped for him.

For the next few weeks Matthew chooses to say nothing about it, instead he watches you. Watches how different you are depending who is around. Nights in Matthews apartment included sweat pants, hoodies and takeout. Nights out with the teammates and their wives means hours of getting ready. Over the top outfits, heels that Matthew is sure will break your neck, and way too much makeup for his liking, but again Matthew says nothing and lets you do your thing.

Tonight though Matthew decided it was time the two of you went out on a date. Like actually go out. Until now he had wanted to keep things more private and intimate, so you wouldn’t be subjected to the media and fans. Tonight, is a big step for your relationship in Matthew’s mind.

You could be preoccupied, different date, every night, you just got to say the word.

“Wow! Matty this place is so fancy!” You gushed as he led you to the table, his big hand low on your back. Classical music was playing so softly you could hardly hear it over the voices and utensils clanging. A beautiful chandelier is hung just inside the entrance, the lights are dimmed slightly making the candles on each table that much more romantic. This place is perfect.

Matthew just smiles at you in agreement as he pulls out your chair for you. Your cheeks heat up slightly as you take your seat. Matthew takes the seat across from you, quietly thanking the hostess as she sets the menus in front of you both. You take a moment to once again admire your surroundings. “It’s beautiful!” You mutter breathlessly, more to yourself than anyone in particular.

“Yeah.” Matthew sighs in content. When you look back to him you realize he’s looking at you with a grin on his face. Embarrassed by his gaze, you drop your head and begin scanning the menu. Just as you expected, the prices are absolutely outrageous.

When the waiter comes, he looks at you expectantly, and politely asks you what you’d like to order. You order some chicken based dish you have never heard of, and the waiter jots it down. Matthew orders a bottle of your favourite wine, and a pasta dish for himself, handing over both menus to the waiter. As the waiter turns to leave he sends you a wink, informing you he’d be back momentarily with your wine.

Matthew chuckles at you as your cheeks heat up. “Can you believe this guy?” His smirk and teasing tone quickly giving away the action hadn’t affected him. “Hitting on my date, and he thinks I’m going to tip him for that?”

Matthew’s smirk widens into a smile at the laughter he manages to pull from you. You love how sure Matthew is of himself, not at all intimidate by the waiter’s ‘advances’. Most guys you have dated previously would feel insecure, and maybe even lash out. Not Matt though. Instead Matt jokes about not tipping, and though you haven’t known him long, you know he will tip. And he will tip well.

After a few moments of small talk about your respective weeks, the waiter is once again at your side. This time with your wine as he pours you and Matthew both a glass. The waiter’s eyes hardly leave your body while he asks if either of you need anything else. You are to preoccupied adjusting the bracelet on your wrist to even notice. The bracelet is a gift from Matthew, an expensive one at that.

As the waiter walks away, you pull out your cellphone and punch in the passcode. The smile Matthew had been sporting quickly falls. Matthew assumes you are texting, or maybe you are just bored, but either way it hurts.

“Could you take a picture of me for Instagram?” The smile on your face so sweet and innocent, Matthew almost thinks nothing of it. Almost. You want him to take a photo of you on your very first public date together to post on Instagram. Just of you.

Perhaps he is thinking too much into it, but it feels like a slap in the face to Matthew. The two of you dress up so he can take you out for the first time. Making you both ‘official’ to the world in Matthew’s eyes. He takes this huge step that to some seems like nothing, so he hoped that in return you may want to post it on your Instagram for all to see. This however, is not what he meant. Maybe a nice picture of you both. Maybe his arm around your waist holding you close, maybe his lips pressed to your temple as you beam your beautiful smile at the camera, or maybe even the both of you laughing at something stupid he said. Instead Matthew is behind the camera now, taking picture after picture of you. All perfectly staged. The wine bottle placed so that the label is on full display, your face resting gently in your hand ensuring the bracelet is in frame, and of course you look absolutely stunning.

But you're not into them at all, you just want materials. I should know because I've heard when girls say, I want, I want, I want, but that's crazy! I want, I want, I want, and that's not me! I want, I want, I want, to be loved by you

The date goes by painfully slow for Matthew. He feels trapped. After the realization that you are not as interested in him as a person as he once thought, the mood shifts. Somehow though, the awkwardness that surrounds the table completely eludes you as you eat your dinner.

———

“Everything okay Matt?” You ask, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. He’s barely spoken to you since you left the restaurant, and now he seems to be moping beside you on his couch as he scrolls through his phone. He rolls his eyes in response leaning his head against the back of the couch.

“Why are you here?” The question catches you completely off guard. You watch Matthew closely, as his gaze focuses on the ceiling above him, never once sparing you even a glance.

“W-well we went on a date and I just figured, but I can- I can go?” You manage to stumble out a response, as embarrassment courses through you.

“No honestly Y/n.” His voice is sharp. He’s mad, and you’ve never seen him like this. “Is it the money or the clout?” The annoyance is clear in his voice, but if it weren’t, the icy stare he shoots you next certainly gets that point across.

“What!?” You feel completely blindsided by his accusations. “Matthew why would you even think that?”

“Oh jeez! Hmm I don’t know! Let’s see shall we.” The sarcasm dripping from his words as he unlocks his phone tilting the screen towards you. As you look at it, you realize it’s your Instagram page. “The very first post we have here is? Oh would you look at that! A beautiful picture of you on OUR date, but who would possibly know that? All they see is a pretty girl, at an expensive restaurant with expensive wine and expensive jewelry. Okay and up next! Look at that! More fancy jewelry and clothes! Scrolling down a bit more, what’s this? A man? Must be your boyfriend right because you have one? Nope! It’s some guy who took you for a drive in his fancy car! Why would you possibly want to show off your boyfriend? Then rich men wouldn’t drive you around in their sports cars! How sad.” Matthew keeps scrolling, rambling on and on about every picture you’ve posted.

“Stop-“ you manage to choke out, eyes stinging with tears.

“Oh I’m sorry. Did I hurt your feelings? Because fuck Y/n mine sure are! I thought you were different! I thought WE were different. Every girl just wants shit from me! It’s insane! I want to spoil you, but fuck if that’s all you want you’re in the wrong spot! I guess I’m just stupid for thinking a girl like you could love me.” The venom in his last sentence stings, and you repress the sob threatening to leave your throat.

“A girl like me?” You challenge, finding more confidence than you thought had in you. “You know what Matthew? Fuck. You.”

Pushing yourself from his couch, you grab your things quickly heading to the door. As you slide on your shoes, you turn back to him one more time. “For the record, I don’t need shit from you Matthew! And sure maybe I like to put on a show for Instagram, but that’s all it is. A show. So why don’t you grow a pair and learn to talk to women about shit that bothers you, because if you can’t do that no one will ever love you.”

The door slams behind you as you leave. You and Matthew both have a lot of learning to do in this life, and maybe your time together, though short, is a turning point for you both. Maybe someday he will see not everyone is out to get him, and that communication isn’t as scary as it seems. Maybe someday you’ll learn that looking good, or rich, doesn’t make you happy. Living in the moment with people who matter, that will make you happy. For now, the two of you are left alone, wounds from hurtful words on full display. Both of you left wanting to take it all back.

[bridgyrose]

“Wait, you’re serious?” Ruby smiled a bit after finding out about Penny. “I thought I was going to be alone.”

Penny nodded nervously. “Normally I’d keep it a secret, but since you’re here anyway, its not like I can hide it.” 

“Dont worry, your secret’s safe with me.” 

“Thank you.” Penny sat down as she waited for her own appointment. “You’re going into robotics, right?” 

“Yeah.” Ruby started pulling her notepad out of her bag. “I’ve made a few rough sketches… well.. I guess sketches are a bit kind to call it. More like poked holes in the paper to make an outlined design.” 

Penny smiled and took the notepad to look at them before feeling where the holes were. “You know you could probably find something that’s easier to use for drafting your sketches.” 

“Normally I’d just use the voice input of a computer, but mine had a slight mishap with a fish tank a couple weeks ago.” 

“Well, if you need a new one, I’m sure we can get the school to provide one for you. And I’m sure Weiss-” 

Ruby frowned a little. “Weiss?” 

“Yeah. Her uncle is the headmaster. She could convince him to allow you a replacement laptop if it’s easier.” 

“I can do things on my own. I dont need help.” 

Penny watched as Ruby put her notepad away. “Right. That’s what the schools are supposed to do though, right? Help the Veiled as they need by offering guides, equipment, and programs to find a soulmate.” 

Ruby sighed. “Maybe I dont want the help and maybe I dont want to find my soulmate.” 

“But what if your soulmate wants to find you?” 

Ruby looked at Penny for a moment, hesitating. “Why do you care?” 

Penny shrugged. “Just a question.” 

Ruby sighed and grabbed her pack, digging through it again, still trying to keep up the lie that she couldnt see while around Penny. “Sorry, I guess I’m just a little on edge about things. Apparently Weiss is my soulmate. I wasnt exactly fond of the fact that she continued to try to push it.” 

“I guess that’s understandable. Although, I’m sure she just wants you to be happy.” 

“And I’m happy being by myself. Hell, the only reason I’m here is because my mom wants me to find my soulmate. Now that I have, I just want to spend the rest of my schooling by myself so I can focus on my classes.” 

Penny nodded a bit as she listened to Ruby. “You could always give her a chance though. Weiss just means well.” 

“You’ve… you’ve talked to Weiss about all of this before, havent you?” 

Penny hesitated for a moment as she realized what she said. “W-well… I mean, I’m just guessing-” 

Ruby pulled her white cane out of her bag and started walking off. “I’ll just reschedule my appointment. If all you’re going to do is try to convince me to go with her, I’m done here.” 

Penny sighed as she watched Ruby walk off, feeling a bit disappointed in herself. “There you go Pen, making things worse…”

Ruby grumbled a bit to herself as her vision started fading again. She quickly pulled out her scroll and started putting the school’s address back into it, making sure to put the sound up so she could hear the directions. “Great… I have two soulmates and both of them keep being weird about it…” She sighed as she heard her scroll start to ring once more. She looked at the name just as her vision faded, smiling a bit as she answered. “Jaune. Long time no talk.” 

“Hey Rubes, how’s everything going in Atlas?” asked Jaune. 

“Things… arent going so great.” 

“Want to talk about it?” 

“I...I dont even know where to start.” Ruby sighed and used her cane to find a bench so she could sit down and talk. “I get why my mom wanted me to come here but… I’m not so sure it’s the right choice.” 

“Dont worry, I’m sure things will start looking up for you soon.” Jaune smiled a bit. “We all miss you. Things arent quite the same without our little goofball to keep things sane.” 

Ruby chuckled a little bit at the thought of Jaune missing her. “Is Nora not keeping you busy enough?” 

“...right… you havent heard.” 

“Heard what?” 

Jaune sighed. “Nora and Ren moved back to Mistral.”

“Oh… When did that happen?” 

“The beginning of the school year.” 

“Oh. So I guess you’re alone then…” 

“Not completely. I did meet Pyrrha the other day.” Jaune’s voice started to sound a bit flustered as he thought about her. “I cant believe I finally met my soulmate. What about you? Figured out who yours is?” 

Ruby rolled her eyes a bit. “Unfortunately.” 

“So, what are you going to do about it?” 

“I’m… I’m not sure. They both seem to be acting weird about the whole soulmate thing and… I dont know, maybe Yang is right and this is all a phase and everything will finally click with me.” 

“Look, Rubes, you are who you are. Who cares if everyone else thinks it’s a phase? I mean, your family isnt exactly reliable on figuring out who you are. I know they all finally came around to you being trans, and they’ll come around to you not wanting to be in a relationship. Let them think it’s a phase until they realize that it’s really you. Then they’ll have to accept it. But you’re going to have to explain more on this “both soulmates” thing. You have two of them?” 

Ruby nodded. “Yeah, I do. Although, I’m not sure one of them realizes it yet.” 

Jaune paused for a moment. “Why not tell me what you know about them? You know, just to get things out in the air.” 

“Is that the real reason?” 

“Alright, maybe I’m a little interested in seeing who could possibly end up literally bringing sight to your world.” 

Ruby smiled a bit. “How about I get back to my dorm, and then I can tell you all about them.” 

“That’s more like the Ruby I know.” Jaune kicked back in his chair, leaning it as far as he could. “And then the real gossip can begin.” 

“Only if you tell me about this Pyrrha girl.” 

“Deal.” 

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

Weiss slumped onto her desk. “Well, we royally screwed that one up.” 

Penny hugged Weiss from behind. “It’s not the end of the world. We can still try to get to know her.” 

“You said she doesnt want to do anything with soulmates. Which means, she wants nothing to do with me.” 

“Maybe you could go talk to her and apologize.” 

Weiss sighed and sat up a bit. “Right… apologize. That’s… that’s not going to fix this.” 

“But it’s a start,” Penny replied. She pulled away from Weiss for a moment, smiling at her. “It might not fix anything, but it’ll at least let her know that you want to try to figure things out. She might not want to do anything about soulmates right now, but that doesnt mean we can just be her friends.” 

Weiss nodded, listening to everything Penny was saying. “Okay, you have a bit of a point. I’ll go talk to her tomorrow after classes end and start apologizing.” 

Penny kissed her. “Everything will work out for you.” 

“I know. I’m just worried I’ll be rejected.” 

“So what if you are? You still have me.”

Weiss smiled and pressed into Penny. “You’re right. I still have you.” 

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 141

Last week I posted a day early because vacation was doing vacation things to my sense of time.... This week I forgot to queue the chapter up because Monday was a work holiday, so I forgot today was Tuesday. *insert facepalm here please*

Thanks on this one go largely to @baelpenrose who rightfully pointed out that one part made very little sense to him and therefore was unlikely to make sense to a reader.  The clarification smoothed things out quite a bit, I think.  Just in case, whoever spots the area I’m talking about gets a cookie as soon as travel restrictions lift.

As always, thanks go also to @the-raven-fae, @charlylimph-blog, and @anotherusrname for completing the corners of my support system. And, a super-duper extra-special to @drinksteawithcake! I don’t know if I am allowed to tell everyone why, but you know why you get the extra-special, and I hope you are having fun!

BWAAAAAHP!   BWAAAAAHP!

“Uhhh?” I squinted in complaint as flailing arms clambered over me. One pair snagged me around my waist to drag me from bed before depositing me shakily on my feet. “What are you - ?”

BWAAAAAHP!  BWAAAAAHP!

Any trace of sleep was shoved out of my system, replaced by sizzling alertness when I realized I was hearing ship-wide alarms.  Shoving myself into the first clothing I grabbed, not even bothering with shoes, I was hot on Conor and Maverick’s heels as we raced out of our quarters and into the corridor. We paused only long enough for both men to kiss me and for “I love yous” to be exchanged before they turned and headed toward the areas indicated on their datascreens, while I hauled ass toward the Archives, ducking and twisting to avoid anyone in my path.

“Forty minutes,” Tyche told me crisply as I basically fell through the door, panting. “The Ark could be invaded and the battle over by the time you make it.”

“I ran….huff….the whole….ugh….way….” I managed to gasp out.  Part of me felt like puking, but I was pretty sure the muscles in my abdomen were too busy to figure out the logistics.

Clicking her tongue, she pulled me up from the floor. “Alistair, make a note to suggest to Xio that Sophia’s quarters be relocated once we have a better idea of when we are dropping into real space.”

I nodded numbly. “And probably… amp up… sensors… give… earlier… warning.”

“Nice outfit, by the way,” she laughed quietly as we finally reached the shelter point within the Archives.

Glancing down, I had to suppress a sigh. The first thing I grabbed to dress myself had apparently been a pair of Conor’s boxer shorts and a very filthy t-shirt that I assumed belonged to Maverick, since Conor’s was usually under coveralls. “At least you can’t say I took my time getting dressed.”

Her shaking head was greeted by faces in various states of wakefulness - this had been a drill, and woke nearly the entire Ark during their sleep interval on Delta shift.  But we weren’t out of the woods, yet: the drill didn’t end until all of Xiomara and Evan’s scenarios played out, including the mock combat and various tests of concealment for the other shelters.  As such, Tyche stood guard over the choke-point into this section, while Alistair had stayed behind at the entrance.

Early on, when the drills started, there had been fifty-fifty odds that the mock-invaders would make it this far, but over the past few weeks, that had narrowed to maybe twenty-percent.  It was still too high a chance in my judgement, and Xiomara clearly agreed as she stepped up training schedules and randomized the timing of the drills. 

Taking a swig of water from a stash of bottles, I queued up my datapad and stood next to Tyche, watching the ‘casualties’ from a point where no one could see over my shoulder to avoid panic, which I would have done in a real situation. “They didn’t find mess hall seven this time,” I murmured.

She glanced at my screen. “Acoustics are still too damned high. She must not be simulating for that this go around.”

One of the decoy locations lit up. “Looks like this time it’s heavy on thermal.” The location in question had been equipped with a cooking surface, triggered to activate when the klaxons that had woken me up went off.  Which Xiomara knew, but did not tell the ‘pirates’ for authenticity.

“How did they get past the combatants this time?” She asked, both curious and slightly worried.

Rolling back the sensor data, I watched it carefully. “Looks like these got in during the initial breaches, multiple points. But the line has held since, that’s good.”

Doing another check toward Alistair’s direction, she didn’t seem to see anything concerning. “How many?”

“Four,” I confirmed.  “Sam’s thermal camouflage is working beautifully, though.”  I couldn’t help but grin, and Tyche snorted at the same time. ‘Thermal camouflage’ was a bit of overkill as a name, but it was working well in every round. Potential access points were equipped with fast-acting environmental simulators - originally designed for temporary habitats on inhospitable moons - modified to release atmosphere like a Terran equatorial rainforest within one minute in an enclosed space.  It was a much more simple and elegant solution than any others we had found for giving combatants defending the Ark an advantage - instead of trying to create technology to make them look colder, make the entire area match human heat signatures.  Boom, instantly blinded enemies.

A tense half-hour later, the ‘all clear’ sounded, queueing grumbling from those who had dozed back off as everyone stood to make their ways back to their quarters. I waited with Alistair and Tyche for everyone else to be accounted for on the way out, and the three of us headed back toward our quarters together.  Alistair peeled off first, living closest to the Archives, and no sooner had my sister and I reached my door than the page sounded for the post-drill meeting.  She waved me off as she answered on her databand, and I did the same as I pushed into my quarters and flopped on the couch. “Councillor Sophia Reid, present, audio only,” I answered. “And no jokes, Pranav… I look like I smell awful.”

“Alistair Worthington, present, audio and video. I can confirm that she does, and she does.”

Laughter filled the comms and the rest of the group leaders and Councillors joined the debrief.  Finally, everyone was present and Xiomara called the meeting to order.  First, the leaders of each shelter reported in, as those usually went the fastest. There were a couple malfunctions in the deployment of the shielding to disguise the entrances and hide heat and electrical signatures, but nothing Huynh’s team couldn’t fix.  Tyche and Alistair made the recommendations around earlier detection and the need to move those sheltering in the  Archives closer as we approached time to drop out of relativistic space. 

Once that was out of the way, it was on to the combat and invasion teams. Overall consensus was that Sam’s trick with the portable environments was a rousing success and would be installed at each point determined to be most likely as a breach, with trigger conditions to be determined later. “I hate to say it,” Michael sighed, “but we also need Charly’s team to crank up the scovilles on the arrows and grenades.” His team had played the ‘invaders’ this go around, equipped with sensors and readouts to simulate the effect our defenses would have on the various species who most commonly were found on pirate vessels.  Evan had worked intensely with Pranav and Derek to ensure that the strategies provided by the readouts were modelled after similar strategies based on which ever species each team member was assigned, to ensure we weren’t accidentally drilling against human tactics.

Michael hated it, but he was strict about his team complying nonetheless.

“Seriously?” I squawked, and I wasn’t the only one. “One of those things accidentally went off in my quarters…. Can confirm, they’re pretty potent.”

“They dissipated too fast against my team, and also the contact element left a lot to be desired. Charly, you may want to consider adding a sticking element.”

“Duly noted,” she chimed in with a yawn, her normal pep doused by being woken up and then the drop in adrenaline post-combat.

“What about the sonic weapons?” Xiomara asked, moving the meeting along.

“Still less effective than Nixe is on her own,” a familiar voice I couldn’t put a name to responded with a sheepish tone.  “How hard would it be to train more people to shatter glass with their voice?”

“Incredibly,” Grey stressed. “It takes a very unique combination of training and the right vocal chords.”

“Then we may need to work on adding a projection component.  The sonic devices can match the pitch, but not the actual tone and direction. They’re very effective given time and especially contact, but we need something more immediately disabling.”

Xiomara groaned. “Are we back to Mariah Carey on this one?” Objections exploded until she muted the comms. “It’s that or opera.” Votes started scrolling up the screen, and I could see Xio nod. “Opera it is.  Let’s find a suitable piece and try using more analogue-style speakers.”

“I still say that death metal would work better,” Arthur suggested as soon as the comms were back on.

“Annnnd we already tested it, I will remind you. The volume works, but the pitches aren’t high enough to hit a broad enough population of species sensitive to sound.” After that nearly-obligatory objection, the meeting continued going through reports from each combat team until finally Xiomara announced the end results. “I have to admit, this was one of our best drills yet. Ten percent casualties of the combatants defending the breaches, only two percent among non-combatants, and the invaders were only able to traverse three decks before they were subdued.” She let the cheers go for a couple seconds before getting everyone’s attention again. “Yes, great job on the improvements, but let me remind everyone - those numbers still leave us below threshold for a healthy genetic population. Engineering teams, make the necessary adjustments with whatever resources are necessary. Shelters Three and Seven, you will start training for armed and unarmed combat with Shelter Fourteen and Combat Team Two daily.  Sophia, your team will coordinate schedules. Any questions?”

There were no arguments, not even a groan or mutter as the meeting was dismissed. Before I could even add the new task to my agenda the next day, I received the notification that Alistair had beaten me to the punch.

Glancing at the time, I wanted to hit something.  I had to be back up and at work in four hours, and the realization weighed me down with exhaustion.  The guys had come in and gone to bed while I was in the debrief, and I could already hear synchronized snoring coming from the bedroom.  Rather than risk waking them with my now-frozen feet, I pulled the quilt off the back of my couch and rolled myself into it.  Only minutes later, a heavy weight oozed across my hip and started purring furiously.

“Yeah, buddy. I agree. We need a nap.”

<< Prev  Masterlist  Next >>

[the-ghost-king]

So I'm not going to start like an Anti-Chiron tag because I don't find that enjoyable personally, but every so often people ask why I dislike him so here's essentially a "masterpost" of my thoughts on that situation for when anyone asks, just so I have it to explain some...

This isn't nearly a full list, and there's many more "incidents" that make me less than fond of Chiron, I don't hate the old man but he leaves a bad taste in my mouth and I'm not a fan of that. He's a very twisted character.

- The Lightning Thief

This quote is literally just after Percy's mom "dies", they're all sitting on the porch of the Big House right after he's finally woken up after days of sleeping, and that's the line Chiron pulls out on him.

That's straight up emotional manipulation which was entirely unnecessary in the context of what Chiron was trying to explain. There wasn't a single reason for that, in the slightest.

Immediately following that, and Percy, who canonically has anger issues, does his best to remain calm, he is immediately threatened by Dionysus, and Chiron doesn't even tell Dionysus off for doing that; Chiron just let's it happen. It's Grover who has to speak up to tell Dionysus off...

The only reason Chiron comes out looking like a old guy in this scene is because Dionysus was so much worse in his behavior, at one point intimidating Percy with his power over madness.

- The Titan's Curse

This is the aftermath of when Nico ran away upon confirmation of Bianca's death. When Percy is telling Chiron about the situation, Chiron wishes Nico had been eaten alive rather than recruited into an army.

He'd rather a child be dead than fight against him, and he openly tells this to other children he's in charge of. If Percy went missing would he have said "I hope he was eaten <3" as well?

I don't blame Perry for not delivering the truth here, it was done in an effort to protect Nico; which wasn't something Annabeth had planned on doing... I don't blame Annabeth for that though either, she's been beneath Chiron so long that she probably doesn't realize the shady stuff he does, and to her "going to tell" probably was the "right" move because she was a child...

But the fact that Chiron believes Nico truly would be better off eaten than alive :/

- Tower of Nero

This quote from Tower of Nero shows that Chiron lied to a bunch of young children (most of them were young because the older campers are largely dead because of the war or too old for camp now). It wasn't just a little white lie that adults sometimes tell kids either; they were walking into battle and he told them it was a field trip.

Did he even begin to explain the danger he was putting these kids in? Did the children understand their situation? And how dangerous it was?

Kayla has been blindsided over the years into thinking that telling children they're going on a field trip instead of fighting a battle is something to make a joke of and not be questioned... (Again, I don't blame her she's only like 12 in the book, but still)

Apollo also agrees, which isn't on Chiron but it's a whole mother reason why I can't stand Rick's interpretation of Apollo...

<><><><><>

This isn't me being like "oh Chiron is the worst most evil character ever" I just think that he has numerous flaws which are largely ignored in favor of the "perfect wise teacher" narrative when in fact Chiron and Dumbledore share a lot of.. Offputting qualities.

I do think that some of the situation is simply a result of Chiron having his hands tied behind his back by the gods some. And he even goes so far as to confirm this in a scene of TLT

However many of the scenes in which he exhibits behaviors like that in my first three screenshots are not related to anything the gods require and are, in fact, of Chiron's own free will.

Some things I would blame Zeus and the council for, such as how he withholds information from Percy to an excessive amount for long periods of time even when Percy straight up asks about things. I could easily see that being Zeus trying to prevent Percy from claiming the prophecy as his own, and I could see reasoning that maybe Chiron had sworn over the River Styx or something similar.

But those things don't apply to Chiron making such an unnecessary comment about Percy's mother so close to her "death". It doesn't explain why he would say he hoped Nico had been eaten out loud, and it doesn't cover the fact that he led children into a battlefield without telling them that's what was happening.

I think the context of Chiron's choices and comments would be different if the campers were older. If they were in their late teens or early twenties for the most part, I wouldn't really have much to say about how Chiron handled the situation.

But this man is in charge of children and extremely young teenagers, Percy is only 12 in TLT, maybe if he would have been 16 or 17 then I could give Chiron a pass, but he wasn't. Within the context of the comment he made in the Titan's Curse, Percy is only 14 and Nico is 10 at the beginning of the book... You don't wish a 10 year old had been eaten alive by a monster no matter how bad you think the alternative is, and if you do wish that you don't say it out loud to a group of other children. In the battle from Tower of Nero we get a quick look at the battlefield, and although Ben's age, and the age of another girl fighting alongside him are never confirmed they are implied to be fairly young, and we know Kayla is only 12 at the time too; yet Chiron told them it was a field trip instead of a battle, limiting the time they would have to mentally prepare themselves for what was coming.

On top of that, the nods the reader gets to the fact that Chiron can't act out against the gods depletes over the course of the series. After TLT the amount of times the situation involves the gods interfering with what Chiron is allowed to say lessens, and by the time the Heroes of Olympus series comes around, these limitations on his speech is almost entirely gone. Yet as seen in Tower of Nero he still does morally questionable things in regards to how he treats the campers.

Like I said, I recognize that in many scenes Chiron's hands are tied behind his back because of the gods.. But there are undeniably things he does of his own free will that are, in the nicest manner, very :/

This also isn't a full list of comparisons just a few notable scenes. I don't think Chiron is equally as bad as Dumbledore, but I think it undeniable that Chiron has some significant flaws built into his character design.

A good character has flaws, and there's nothing wrong with having a character that doesn't always conduct themselves properly or have good intentions- it's actually good writing, and I can appreciate that, but for some reason I find myself personally rubbed the wrong way by Chiron. This doesn't make Chiron badly written, or poorly designed, in fact I would say Rick's Chiron is very well designed in lots of ways, but I just don't like how it's never acknowledged by anyone in the series.

Like I said, I'm not starting an anti-Chiron situation, I just think little events like those mentioned, the way he's built a child army, and how he doesn't even try to plead with the gods over raising the ages on campers being allowed to battle is a little sus. But it more so bothers me that there's no attention payed to this problem anywhere in the books, not even by a side character or Luke, nowhere.

I don't actually care that much and this isn't that important to me, but sometimes people ask why I don't like Chiron and this is basically just my explanation to hand off to them... It's not even so much that I dislike Chiron entirely, he's well written and has his "good" moments, I just don't like the way other characters interact with him and his actions.

It's more a personal beef with him rather than an aspect of poor writing or him "being bad"... PJO in general (and HoO/ToA to a much lesser extent) shows that there's not such an inherent good vs bad in the world, and that sometimes people are victims of circumstances in some situations, or they're horribly misguided in their actions, but the series does a good job of showing those people as human still, and I applaud that.

I don't really know how to tie this up in its entirety, but there's nothing wrong with having a morally grey character who does questionable things and in many aspects it is good writing. I think Chiron is a result of Rick not thinking through the implications what he's doing in lots of situations, and I can see a fairly consistent drop in Chiron's characterization from PJO-ToA which is consistent with most other aspects of Rick's work.

I also want to clarify that if you like Chiron and disagree with me, that's absolutely 110% okay, I just personally dislike Chiron and that's on me. Like my problem with many of Rick's other immortal characters, I think he missed important aspects of them in some manner and slightly (or entirely in some cases) mischaracterized them in comparison to their original myths.. Some of these characters he came around on and fixed their character in many aspects to their more "correct" characterization (like Hera), while others (like Chiron and Apollo) he never quite figured them out. Which is a running complaint I have with Rick so I'm just adding this to his tab.

But yeah, I don't hate Chiron I just dislike him and those are different things, and I don't think it's a bad thing to have a morally questionable character, Chiron just personally rubs me the wrong way and I just wanted to explain that more fully because I've been asked about it multiple times.

Also I apologize for not adding a [read more] to this, it's a complaint of mine often when scrolling through the tags but I'm on mobile currently and don't have immediate access to a computer so~

[mercurysstars]

The Shadow Thief (part 3)

Summary: What happens when Peter has to work with the girl he hates to possibly save the world.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Swearing, Blood, Violence.

A/n: Sorry it took me so long to post again! I’ve wrote like 3 different versions of this chapter because I didn’t know what direction to go in just yet.

_

"Woah, dude. Did you see this?" Y/n held out Peter's phone shoving it in his face.

Y/n had gone over to Peters house early that morning to get the last finishing touches on their project done. So they both reluctantly decided to walk together to school.

Peter snatched his phone out of Y/n's hands as they crossed the street. "How did you even get my phone? It was in my hands." She shrugged and pointed back at the article.

Peter scrolled down the page. Incoming reports say Avengers went on a mission and since gone MIA. How didn't he know about this? And why didn't the Avengers at least tell him they were going to be gone. Peter was confused, to say the least. Were they in trouble? No, they couldn't be they are the earth's mightiest heroes. Right?

"They probably just had to extend their mission and forgot to report back in." Or at least he hoped. He didn't want to think of the latter. He decided after school he would go to the compound and make sure everything was alright.

"If you say so." They walked up the stairs to the second floor of the school.  Peter opened the door and they both walked into English. Y/n took her seat next to Mj and Peter next to Ned.

The thought of the Avengers missing did worry Y/n a bit. She wasn't a big fan of superheroes but she also was not, not a fan. It was complicated. Sure she liked the security of having someone to save the day. But she hated that they pretended to be better than everyone else. They judge criminals as they themselves have never done anything wrong. They tend to blame everything on everyone else and never take responsibility.

Y/n felt a nudge to her arm. She turned her head to face Mj. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"No, no it's alright I'm just thinking," Y/n said. She pulled out her laptop and opened her and Peter's presentation to have it ready just in case they had to go first.

Their opening slide was a picture of Anne Frank surrounded by a pretty border and Anne Frank’s name in cursive in the middle. Peter insisted their project had to look nice and not like some shitty last-minute one like she had originally done. Y/n had teased Peter relentlessly about it saying maybe he should be a graphic designer instead of Spider-Man. And he of course huffed and pretended to ignore her.

"Well, you just looked worried. Anyways tell me if you need any help." Y/n gave Mj a grateful smile. Y/n knew Mj could have this cold, hard exterior but she knew she secretly cared.

The bell rang signaling the first period started. The teacher stood up from her desk and walked to the front of the room clasping her hands together. "Good morning class. Today is the first official day for our presentations. We'll be picking who goes first by random. Any questions?"

One girl toward the front of the classroom stuck up her hand "Yes, Betty."

"Did you see the news? About the avengers?" The class erupted within hushed conversation everyone stating their theories of what happened and their worries.

"Alright, class settle down. I did see but we will continue like normal." She said. It kind of seemed like to Y/n she didn't care at all but she didn't really think anything of it.

The phone rang and the teacher quickly excused herself. Y/n picked at her fingers mindlessly. The teacher muttered a few words into the phone and hung up "Y/n, Peter." Her eyes snapped up at the sound of her name "They want you down in the office. And bring your things."

Y/n furrowed her brows. Her eyes met Peters "What did you do?" He mouthed just as confused as her.

What did she do? What the hell did he do. She hasn't done anything wrong. Well, at least nothing she gotten caught for.  "Dude if anyone did anything it was you! I've only been here for like 3 weeks." She whispered-yelled back.

He put his hands up defensively. Y/n shoved all of her things in her bag and zipped it up. Mj raised an eyebrow at her and Y/n just shrugged with a clueless look on her face.

Y/n walked over to the door opening it with her free hand while her chrome book was in the other.  Peter followed not too far behind. They step out and began to walk down the hallway shoulder to shoulder not a word muttered between them.

The hall was empty. No teacher, no janitor, no late students, not even the common lost freshman. It was strange to Y/n. She turned to Peter "This is weird. It's almost like it's too."

"Quiet." He finished for her. Peter felt off. His spidey sense wasn't alarming him with anything but it was almost like a gut feeling you'd get when some strange guy came up to you at a party being a little too friendly.

"Yeah." Exactly. They continued down the hall both on high alert. When they passed a window Y/n could see two men dressed in suits around the corner through the reflection.

"I think they're following us." She whispered to Peter. Y/n has picked up a thing or two of trying not to be noticed but the men behind them didn't seem like they cared much for subtlety. They had their eyes set on Y/n and Peter taking wide quick steps.

This time his spidey sense went off. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Peter reached for his web-shooters "We need to get out of here."

"You think?" Y/n back said in an aggravated tone. The next time they passed by a window she could see them screw something together slowly by their side.

Y/n glanced down to get a better look, it was a gun. All she could hear was the beating of her heart thumping loudly in her ears. Thinking quickly Y/n shoved Peter into a locker. A bullet whizzed past where his head once was and made a tiny thump when it hit the wall.

His eyes went wide momentarily stunned before he sprung into action. He shot out a web, grabbed the gun out of the man's hand, and flung it across the hall, making sure he couldn't get to it.

The men paused for a minute before muttering something to each other end breaking into a spring toward them. Well mostly at Peter luckily for her but still in her direction. Peter began to fight the one whose gun he had stolen hand to hand. The man got in a punch to Peter's face. Peter tripped him and tied him up with his webs.

The second man was coming toward her. Before she could second guess herself Y/n took her chrome book and slapped the man across the face with it. The man was momentarily shocked and Y/n opened an unlocked locker hitting him in the face. She watched him slide down the lockers unconscious.

More men turned the corner and came down the hallway. Y/n kicked a waist-length garbage can with wheels toward them as a small distraction. Peter grabbed Y/n pulling her into an empty classroom.

Y/n locked the door before she grabbed Peter and dragged him further into the classroom into a supply closet. They both crouched behind a mop bucket leaving the door cracked for a tiny bit of light.

"Would you like to tell me why there's someone outside this classroom trying to blow my brain out!" She huffed.

"Don't ask me. For all, we know they could be after you!" They both flinched as they heard the door handle shake.

"They were attacking you. Shooting at you. And you'd have a bullet in the back of your head if I didn't push you out of the way if I might add." She poked him in the chest.

The men began to start kicking at the door trying to break it down "Maybe if we figure out who they are we can get out of this."

"You know what I have an idea." Y/n reached back and grabbed the gun out of the waistband of her pants. Y/n started not to care much for introductions when they tried to assassinate her. Her motto was to shoot first ask questions later because she was not going down without a fight.

"What the hell Y/n! Where did you even get a gun?" Peter tried to put some distance between them but failed and ended up bumping into a shelf.

"Calm down bug boy I'm not going to shoot you." She rolled her eyes "I grabbed it off the guy while I smashed my laptop over his head."

"You are not shooting anyone!" He exclaimed. He was going to die with a psychopath. A literal psychopath. What would his uncle Ben say if he could see him right now?

"Fine whatever. How many webs do you have left?"

"Only one." He muttered.

"Only one! How the hell do you only have only one web left?" Oh lord. She was going to die in a janitor's closet with an idiot.

"Oh well, I'm sorry I didn't know I would have someone trying to paint the walls with my organs. I must have forgotten to mark it on my calendar!"

"Oh god, Okay." Y/n rubbed her forehead with her free hand.

She took the clip out of her gun and counted the bullets she had. Two. Okay, she could work with that, Somehow. She just had to live long enough to beat Peter up for almost getting them killed.

She turned back to Peter "Alright here's the plan so we are going to jump out of the window and see just how far that web can exactly get us." She could hear the pounds on the door getting more frequent and if she was being honest she was surprised it held this long.

"Are you crazy! You going to get us both killed." He didn't need the answer because he already knew she was. He swore he could see the shadows swirl around her for a moment but as quickly as it was there it was gone.

"Do you have any better ideas because I'm all ears, Parker?" He didn't say anything and just ran a hand through his hair letting out a frustrated sigh.

"That's what I thought." Y/n knew there was a good chance that they get hit by incoming traffic like a bug on a windshield but it was either that or the SWAT team outside.

"Let's get this over with." Said Y/n. They both stepped outside of the closet. The men outside the room gave the door one last kick and it broke off of the hinges. "Go." That was all Peter said.

Y/n shot the window with the two bullets she had. Peter ran over to Y/n and grabbed onto her tightly. They jumped through the window shattering it. Peter shoots out his last web hooking onto a nearby tree. At the peak of the swing, Peter let go of the web. They flew over the traffic narrowly avoiding the cars.

When they finally reached the ground they hit it hard. Peter took most of the impact but Y/n still hit her head. They continued to hold tightly onto each other as they rolled through the grass from the momentum of the swing.

They came to a slow stop and Y/n landed on top of Peter. She slumped off to the side of him and sat up. Peter did the same but with a groan feeling all of the bones in his body.

He noticed blood began to trickle out of Y/n's nose. "You got something." He pointed to her nose.

She wiped under her nostrils with her fingers and then again with the bottom of her shirt without a second thought "Oh, Thanks."

Peter rested his head on his knees. What was he going to do? As much as he didn't like Y/n he felt bad for dragging her into this. "We need to get going they are going to come looking for us soon."

"Where are we going to go?" The light was starting to become too much so Y/n put her hand over her eyes to shield her from the sun. She was starting to get a headache and just wanted to lay down. Peter stood up and dusted off his shirt and pants.

"Avengers compound." He held out a hand to her. She took it and he pulls her up onto her feet. They began to walk toward the street.

"I just don't know how we are going to get there." He added. They made it onto the sidewalk. Y/n was stumbling around so Peter kept his pace slow so she could keep up with him.

Y/n stopped walking "What do you think of this car?" She nodded to a 1997 Honda Accord.

"It's cool I guess." He said confused the car was a little old but he didn't say anything.

"Alright good. Now hand me your web-shooters." She held out her hand toward him.

"Okay?" He didn't really know what she was trying to get at. Peter just assumed she hit her head too hard but he complied anyway.

Y/n crouched down facing the car. She broke his web-shooters over her knee taking out two long curved metal pieces. She handed him back the rest of his broken web-shooters. Peter stared at her wide-eyed as she stuck the two metal pieces into the lock of the car.

"What are you doing." He hissed. Peter walked closer to Y/n trying to cover her as she picked the lock to the car.

"I just gave our problem a solution." She said without looking. She continued to twist the pieces around until she heard a little click. She gave a little cheer and opened the door.

"Yeah by stealing someone's car. Need I remind you is illegal."

" I like to think of it as borrowing. Besides I will happily leave you if you wish." She rolled her eyes. God, her head was throbbing.

Y/n took the plastic cover off of the steering column. There were three sets of wires and she grabbed the middle one. Y/n cut the red and blue wire. She touched the wires together until she heard the car start. She smiled to herself and lastly twisted the wires together.

She turned to Peter "Are you getting in or what?"

Peter looked around and then sighed "Fine, but I'm driving."

"What? No way, you don't even look old enough to drive." She crossed her arms.

"You have a concussion so I'm our best bet at not dying." He gave Y/n a sarcastic smile.

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes but got out of the driver's seat.

"You know if you keep rolling your eyes they are going to get stuck like that." She flicked him off and he laughed.

Y/n basically collapsed into the passengers seat. Peter closed his door and started the car. He pulled into the street and Y/n rested her head against the window. The cool glass felt nice against her forehead. She notice a bruise on Peter's pale cheek from when he got hit earlier.

Every now and again he would glance at Y/n to see how she was doing. He figured she must not feel the best because she hasn't said one witty remark since they got into the car.

He hoped by now the Avengers were back at the compound and could Tell them what's going on and who was following them.

He looked over to her again and she had her eyes close. He jabbed her with his elbow "Hey, don't fall sleep. You might not wake back up."

"Hmm Okay." She said but didn't budge.

"I'm serious Y/n, open your eyes." Peter was starting to get worried. It wasn't that he cared about her. But he didn't know what to do with a dead body. Or at least that's what he told himself.

"Don't get your panties into a bunch, my eyes are open."

They pulled into the road of the compound. When it came into view Y/n suddenly sat up wide eyed "Holy shit."

"What?" Peter took his eyes off of Y/n and followed her line of sight.

"What the fu-"

Part 4

Taglist

@fandom-strumpet • @ginger-swag-rapunzel • @libraries-and-coffee