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let-them-read-fics · 4 years ago

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Empress of the Heart (Pt. 1)

Requested By Anon: "Reader is an actress, and she meets Jennie at an event. They have a one night stand afterward, and months later they meet again." (It was a long request so I had to sum it up lol)

Pairing: Jennie x Fem!Actress!Reader

Word Count: ~ 9,351 😳 (Both parts combined)

Warnings / Misc. -- Smut / Suggestive Themes, Angst, Fluff

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Hello again! Guys, I'm actually really proud of this one. It gets better as it goes on. I hope you enjoy it (you'd better, because I stayed up until 8am writing again 🥴😂). I had to split this story into two parts to appease the Tumblr overlords, just so we’re clear.

♡ Happy reading ♡

Part 2

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"Who's that?" Rosé asks, leaning in closer to the maknae as she points to a slightly recognizable face in the crowd.

"I dunno," Lisa shrugs, throwing a thumb over her shoulder, "ask Jisoo." The Australian does as she says, padding over to seek out an answer from their unnie.

"Y/N L/N, I believe. Her company is supposed to make a big announcement later." Jisoo informs, adding a nod to the end of her statement for certainty. Jennie stands beside them all, taking in the crowd of staff and business people hailing from all of the most powerful entertainment companies in Korea. The big dogs have all gathered here tonight to drop some major announcements for their upcoming projects and set up arrangements for future endeavors.

"What do you think it'll be?" Jennie asks, eyes still trained on you as you converse with a famous actress. Her breath catches in her throat when you throw your head back, eyes filling with tears of laughter at something the high class woman said. You're absolutely stunning.

"It could be anything, honestly. Her company's full of talent in every category."

"Yeah, their newest girl group broke a record for Youtube streams in the first hour after release. Still didn't beat ours, though," Lisa adds with a smug look, holding her head a little higher. She's only playing, of course -- she's one of the most humble people Jennie knows.

"She's really pretty," Jennie breathes out, speaking the words that have been rolling around in her mind since she laid eyes on you. The other girls adamantly agree, nodding their heads with purpose.

"Do you wanna go talk to her? YG would probably like that; maybe we can let Jisoo do a little schmoozing." Rosé smirks, playfully nudging the unnie. Jisoo rolls her eyes with an amused scoff, quickly swatting the blonde's hand away.

"I don't know, she seems pretty busy." Her words are unsure, weary -- her normal confidence is wavering a bit, now replaced with some type of nervousness that she can't quite explain. This isn't like her; why is she so anxious?

"Come on, it'll be fun." Lisa decides for them, leading the way with Jennie's hand clutched in her own; the brunette would surely slip away otherwise.

They approach you from an angle, caught right in your blind spot as you continue your small talk with a new business exec. The man sees the girls behind you, waiting for their turn, and after a few more moments he leaves you with an office number to reach him by.

"Good evening… Y/N, right?" Jisoo leads politely, smiling as you turn to face them. You look even more dazzling up close, and Jennie's posture stiffens. She's definitely seen you somewhere before.

"That's me," you say sweetly, greeting all of them and committing their names to memory.

"Jennie," she introduces, stretching a hand out to you. Your eyes flutter down to it before you grasp it within your own, the simple action appearing unbelievably cute to her.

"How're you doing tonight? I hear you've got some big news for us." Lisa wiggles her eyebrows, voice bouncy with anticipation.

You giggle, and Jennie thinks it may just be the sweetest thing she's ever heard. "It's a little hectic, if I'm honest, but I'm enjoying myself. What about you guys? And you'll just have to wait and see what we have in store for you." You end the sentence with a wink that just happened to be directed at Jennie, despite Lisa being the one to ask the question. She tries to fight the blush that soon rises to her cheeks.

"We're doing well, I'd say. It's actually kind of nice to get out of the dorm and meet some new people." Rosé says almost wistfully, her eyes sending a fleeting glance around the room at her statement.

"I know how that can feel. When I was first starting out I didn't get many opportunities for roles. But then I met my manager at the café I picked up a second job at, and the rest is history." You smile softly at the memory, recalling the events of that fateful day. You can't imagine where you'd be right now if things had played out differently.

"You're an actress?" Jisoo asks, sounding like she just put two-and-two together. You nod at her, noticing the way that Jennie looks at you in deep thought. You can practically see the wheels turning.

"So that's where I recognize you from. You guest starred in that JTBC miniseries earlier this year, didn't you?"

"Ding ding ding, we have a winner." You smile, bowing your head in praise. It warms your heart to see her face light up, knowing that she finally felt that rush of putting her finger on the elusive thoughts in her head. Pulling knowledge you previously believed forgotten from the foggy depths of your brain is a rewarding experience in itself, and you're pleased that she remembered you.

"I'm glad I made an impression during my short time on screen," you quirk, leaning in closer to her.

"With skills like yours? You're unmatched, Y/N." She flirts, finally finding her bearings again. Her confidence is returning now, slowly but surely, and she pats herself on the back for not hiding behind her hands when you send her a tempting smile.

"Ah, you're too kind--" you begin, only to be cut off by a tap on your shoulder. It's one of your co-stars.

"Good evening, ladies," he bows, "I'm sorry to break this up, but Y/N is needed by management."

Your shoulders sag at this, his words sinking in. You'd much rather spend the night tucked away with the girls, getting to know them better -- especially Jennie, who makes your heart speed up anytime she looks at you.

"I hate to go," they nod in agreement, sad to have to part ways. They really enjoyed speaking with you, and they'd be lying if they said they wanted to stop anytime soon.

"But maybe I'll catch you later?" The question sounds hopeful, albeit a bit unsure as you scrunch your face up. They affirm that they'd "like that very much," and your shoulders relax a bit. Maybe there's still some hope for you all.

◇◇◇◇◇ 2 Hours Later ◇◇◇◇◇

"Exactly! She shouldn't have forgiven him after that," you rant to Jisoo, talking about some characters from your favorite kdrama.

"Babo, I tell you." She says dramatically, rolling her eyes. The action garners a chuckle from you, and Jennie finds herself smiling as she follows along with the conversation. She must've made her staring too obvious, because a minute later your eyes meet hers from across the table. She blinks, surprise etched gracefully into her features, and she clears her throat. Both of you have been stealing glances at one another all night, and things have only ramped up since you snuck away from management to see them again. You assured them you wouldn't get in trouble, but that was honestly the last thing on your mind.

From her seat across from you, Jennie can see the curve of your body, your silhouette highlighted by the lights that shine on the wall behind you. They're dimmed somewhat to give a comfortable, soft glow to the room, and they contrast with the perfect curve of your face. She lets her eyes trail lower, admiring the expanse of your chest and how your fingers rest against the table, mindlessly playing with the expensive tablecloth.

What you do next makes her choke on the water she had so bravely dared to take a drink of.

You lean forward slightly, just enough for her to see your cleavage, while still appearing inconspicuous and innocent. The smirk you try to suppress tells her you know exactly what you're doing, and her cheeks grow hot.

"Excuse me," she mutters to the table, quickly standing and all but running outside for some fresh air. She wants -- needs -- to put some distance between the two of you if she plans to have any self control.

Cool air immediately greets her as she steps outside, hearing the sleek automatic door slide shut behind her. She can breathe now, and begin to soothe her racing mind. Despite only knowing you for the better part of 4 hours, she's already attracted to you. Way more than she cares to admit, as she presses her thighs together to put out the fire you started within her.

No more than 5 minutes later, the doors slide open once more.

"Everything alright?" You ask, tone dripping with amusement as you take in her flustered state. It's obvious that she's okay, just simply turned on.

"Never better," she mumbles, glancing up at you with a lopsided smile.

"You know, you ran out pretty fast back there. You sure know how to worry a girl." You fake a pout at her.

"Oh, you don't say?" She plays along, approaching you with what few shreds of confidence she has left. She tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, whispering into it, "Well, I'm all good."

"Wanna see for yourself?" She continues, drawing back slightly to take your hands within her own and wrap them around her waist. She smiles as they roam over her body, making sure to be thorough as you "check her out."

She groans when your hand grazes over a sweet spot on her thigh, causing you to pause and tut at her, "Tsk tsk, Jennie. It looks like I'll have to inspect this a little further." She gulps at your words, mind clouded once again by filthy thoughts of you.

"Let's get out of here," she suggests, taking your hand to lead you away. You chuckle at her eagerness, only capable of nodding as she basically drags you to her car.

◇◇◇◇◇

Despite feeling like two horny teenagers, you and Jennie actually opted to slow things down and get to know each other more. She's one of the most interesting people you've ever met, and you could listen to her talk for hours on end. The feeling is beyond mutual, and she doesn't mind that she has to wait a little longer to have you. The promise of what the night will hold for the two of you thrills her, and the anticipation only heightens her feelings.

Takeout containers lay abandoned in her car, long forgotten about as you sit next to each other on the hood. The chilly surface of the windshield presses against your back, making you all the more thankful for having had the foresight to wear a coat tonight. You make a mental note to thank your stylist for the suggestion.

Stars are beginning to twinkle in the distance, slowly coming out of their peaceful slumber to greet the evening sky. They bring to mind all the nights you spent in your backyard as a child, laid out on a warm blanket as you gazed up into space. Back when only trivial issues existed in your world, leaving you with an unscarred heart and unadulterated outlook on life. Those times were simple, only complicated by whatever drama was going on at school or what new person your friends liked. Back then you had no idea of what the future held for you -- what you'd end up doing with your life. If you had a chance to talk to your younger self, you'd tell her to enjoy those days as much as possible; to not take them for granted for even a second.

Everyday you're reminded that fame is truly a blessing and a curse -- you miss the days that you could roam the streets freely with whomever you wanted to, not having to worry about paparazzi or the media, but you're thankful for where you are now. You get to do what you love, everyday, and make money from it -- it's what everyone wishes for in life; and although you've worked your ass off to get here, you owe a lot of credit to the fans.

"It's so beautiful up here," Jennie says, voice stuck between a whisper and sigh as she lays her head on your shoulder.

"You see that building over there, with the orange lights and trees around it?" You ask, pointing in the direction of the building. Her eyes follow the invisible path your finger makes, and she spots it, nodding for you to continue.

"My mom used to work there; it's a daycare. I always loved helping out. The kids were so adorable." A bittersweet smile plays on your lips as you look down at your lap, clearly reminiscing. Jennie notices, brushing a strand of hair out of your face as she says, "I bet you miss it."

"I do," you sigh, clenching your jaw briefly, "those were the days. Seoul's home, but sometimes it feels so distant."

"I know how that feels." You don't miss the way her eyes cast down, a hint of sadness behind them, her fingers toying with yours on her thigh. Life in the spotlight isn't all it's cracked up to be, and neither of you are strangers to that all too familiar pang of longing.

"I'm happy to be here with you tonight, though," you try to turn the conversation cheery again, and Jennie's thankful for that. "I haven't had this much fun in a long time."

Your plan works, and soon she's pepping up. "Me neither. Being with you feels...different. In a good way." Your smile widens exponentially when she adds, "A very good way."

"Don't get too cheesy on me, now," you roll your eyes teasingly, wrapping both of your arms around her and pulling her flush up against your body. She lays her head on your chest, reveling in the scent of your perfume and the warmth radiating from you. Her hand comes to rest against your ribs, lightly rubbing patterns against them as the two of you continue star gazing. She can feel your heartbeat pick up when she slides her hand downwards, playing with the hem of your shirt innocently.

Does she have any idea what she's doing to you?

Yes, yes she does. After all, your body is basically selling you out at this point.

"Y/N?"

"Mmm?" You hum, eyes closed and head leaned back against the windshield. Her skin is soft against yours, and your shared warmth has put you at ease.

"Do you wanna go somewhere? I really don't want the night to be over yet." Your heart flutters at her words; the fact that a woman such as Jennie is so reluctant to leave you is baffling in itself.

"I'd love that, Jennie. What did you have in mind?"

For a moment, Jennie's mind takes it there. She allows herself to imagine what it would be like to feel your skin against hers, connection unrestricted by clothing; how your kisses would feel against her lips, her body; what beautiful sounds you would make as she pushed you closer and closer to the edge. She can't deny how attracted she is to you, nor does she want to; but she also doesn't want to ruin the innocent moments you're sharing. She doesn't want to taint them with the lustful ideas that flood her mind anytime you give her that look, or caress her thigh absentmindedly.

"How does the park sound?"

"With you? There's nowhere I'd rather be."

Despite her efforts, Jennie blushes at your statement, feeling that embarrassing warmth creep up the back of her neck. You've made her blush more in the span of one night than she previously had in her entire life, and that boosts your confidence tenfold.

"Who's being cheesy now, huh?" She asks, pinching your side playfully as she sits up. Her legs swing around until she's fully facing you, sitting criss-cross as the two of you smile at one another.

Neither of you move for a while, both content with just admiring each other's beauty. Her fingers lace with yours, and after a moment she brings your hand up to her lips to lay a kiss to it. The action -- more so, how soft her lips are against your skin -- catches you off guard, and your breathing hitches. All at once, you're acutely aware of how badly you want to kiss her.

As if things couldn't get anymore tempting, her tongue darts out of her mouth to soothe her lips, making them glisten in the dying light of the evening.

She sees your eyes dart down to them, and her body leans closer to you ever so slightly, seemingly having a mind of its own. You meet her gaze again, silently asking for permission as you glance back down at her lips. She responds by giving one single nod before leaning in close enough that your noses almost brush against each other.

"You're stunning." The compliment sounds breathy as it slips out of your mouth, but you're beyond caring at this point. Your pride was thrown out the window the second Jennie showed interest in you.

"Don't look at me like that," she says, gently biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from closing the distance. She wants you to be the one to do it.

"Like what?"

"Like you're undressing me with your eyes." Her gaze casts down to your lips again, seemingly glued there as she watches them move when you speak your reply.

"You act like you weren't doing the same thing at the event." Her confidence falters momentarily, but she fights to hold her ground. "My colleagues even noticed it, babe -- you've gotta get better at hiding your attraction." You say with a chuckle, watching as Jennie's eyes grow wider. Had she really made it so obvious?

"We wouldn't be here right now if I was good at hiding it, so I think you owe me one."

"Touché," you say, quirking an eyebrow in thought. She's right, as usual. "How can I ever make it up to you?" Your voice wiggles dramatically, face contorting in a mock apology.

"I know a way," she says lowly, smiling as your hand finds its way to her knee a moment later. You hook your fingers in the crook of it, drawing a surprised gasp from her as she falls forward and into your arms.

Here goes nothing.

You raise your left hand to her cheek, brushing the back of your fingers against it gently as you build up the nerve to kiss her. Your other arm is wrapped securely around her waist in order to hold her steady above you.

Her palms are pressed to the glass behind you, and her hair falls gracefully around you, creating a little curtain to shield you from the outside world. Finally gaining enough courage, you press your lips to hers in a soft kiss. It's slow and mild as you set a sensual rhythm, growing accustomed to the taste of each other. She sighs into your mouth as you reposition her so that she's straddling your lap.

"Y/N, we're never gonna make it to the park if you keep kissing me like that." She warns, though her words hold no real threat at all. She wants this just as much as you do.

You lay a trail of light kisses up her neck, all of them far too gentle for her liking right now. "Is this better, your highness?" You ask smugly, smiling against her throat as a frustrated sigh leaves her lips.

She places a hand on your chest to push you up against the glass, letting her fingers skim over your collarbone. Just as she's about to pounce, the sound of your phone ringing interrupts the moment. It vibrates in your pocket, right between Jennie's thighs, and you stifle a giggle at the reaction it would've drawn from her had you not quickly retrieved it.

"Hello?" You ask, realizing you hadn't even bothered to check the caller ID. Jennie sits back on your legs, allowing her hands to rest on your hips and draw soothing circles.

"Y/N, I hate to tell you this on such short notice, but you have a new interview scheduled for tomorrow morning at 10AM. I'll send you all the details later."

You sigh at your manager's words, running a hand over your face to relax yourself. The announcement party was supposed to signal the end of your busy week, but of course life just couldn't work in your favor for once. Now you'd be stuck in some random line of questioning, unable to give them any real answers for the sake of keeping spoilers from getting out. You can think of about a million things you'd rather be doing tomorrow morning, and one of them is sitting on your lap right now.

"Yeah, okay. I'll talk to you later." You wait for him to say his goodbye before ending the call and turning back to Jennie with an apologetic look.

"Sorry for ruining the moment."

"You didn't ruin anything. But luckily for you…" she leans forward again, pressing a kiss to your lips that makes your heart stop for a second, "I can be very merciful." You nearly melt at her words, paired with how she whispers them in your ear. Her warm breath fans over your neck, rendering you speechless as you pull her back to your lips.

This kiss is different -- full of passion and desire as you grow more used to each other. She raises up on her knees, towering over you as she stares down at you. You look so beautiful right now, your eyes appearing big as you look up into hers, waiting for her next move. She runs her hands through your hair before settling them on your cheeks, cupping the smooth skin and rubbing the pad of her thumb across it. You drag your nails up and down her exposed thighs, and you pat yourself on the back when you notice the trail of goosebumps they leave behind.

"I actually do wanna go to the park with you, if that's alright. There's something I want to show you. I definitely want to continue this later, though." You say.

She nods at that, a smile making its way to her face that can't possibly be wiped away. As much as she wants to have you writhing underneath her, screaming her name, she can wait. She's content with making as many memories as possible with you tonight, and she's intrigued by the surprise you're hinting at.

A few gentle kisses later, you slide off the hood and help her down before going to open her car door for her.

"Such a gentlewoman," she praises, pursing her lips at you.

"Only for you," you wink, making her giggle.

You quickly make your way to the driver's seat, set on getting to the park ASAP in order to spend as much time as you can with Jennie. After all, you can only stay up so late tonight if you want to be functioning for that interview tomorrow… and let's just say that you plan on being busy later.

---------

"Voila!" You declare, motioning to some playground equipment in the kid's section of the sizable park. Of all the things she was guessing at, Jennie did not see this coming.

"What, you came to show me monkey bars, Y/N? I've seen plenty of them--" She asks incredulously, looking around the area filled with miniature tables and chairs to go along with the equipment.

"What? No, no. I used to play here when I was growing up, and my friend's and I had a secret hiding spot. We always stashed our favorite little knick knacks in it, and we promised we'd only show it to people we deemed worthy."

Jennie watches as your eyes light up at the recounting of such a dear memory, and she grins widely. You truly are a five year old at heart.

"This is the first time I've been back here, since…" you trail off, realizing just how many years it's been. Being at such a different point in your life while standing in a place you frequented as a child is a weird juxtaposition that you weren't prepared for, but you push it from your mind.

"Anyway, I think you're pretty worthy." You joke, sizing her up. She laughs at that, and you revel in the pleasant sound. You know you probably won't see her again after tonight, so you're determined to ingrain the little things -- like her smile, her laugh -- into your brain.

"Now, let's see… where did Ashley put it?" You whisper to yourself, scanning the length of the playground. Your eyes travel across the slides, over the swings, and around the monkey bars before you spot that little dip in the siding that you'd recognize anywhere. Jennie soon finds her hand slipping into yours as you lead her over to it, a childlike sense of giddiness on your face. She likes seeing you like this.

"I hope it's still here," you say to no one, bending down to press your fingers against the old wood. It's far more worn down now, and you're worried that someone has already come by and cleaned out the hiding spot. Putting your doubts aside, you continue.

"Okay, so don't laugh, but there's a special way you have to open it. Ashley showed it to me one day and it's the only way we could get it to budge after that."

She smiles her gummy smile at you, and you can't help but return the gesture and even steal a quick kiss. She's a bit taken aback when you ball your hand up, using the side of it to deliver a couple blows to the wood in two different spots. Next, you stand and line up your foot, remember exactly how your friend taught you, before executing a calculated kick to the other side.

At first, Jennie wants to laugh at you; but upon closer inspection, she sees that in fact, a small opening is visible in the wood now. You smirk cockily, knowing full well that she hadn't expected that to work.

"Told you so," you tease, now bending down again to work the panel free. You wiggle it back and forth repeatedly, being careful not to go too quickly and damage anything else, and eventually it pops out. She watches as you reach in and pull out a mini jewelry box -- the kind that can fit in your hand, mainly meant for rings or other small items.

"We stole the box from our other friend, Janelle. Had to pay her our allowances for 2 months afterward. Can you believe that?" You ask, shaking your head with another smirk on your lips. Jennie laughs at you in full, loving how carefree you are right now. In a way, she's happy that your manager called earlier; otherwise the two of you most surely would be locked away in your bedroom right now. This experience is definitely one she'll cherish.

"Unbelievable," she sighs, shaking her head and going along with it.

You click the latch on the small box, it's material now weathered and rusty as it creaks when you open it. Jennie steps closer to you to examine its contents, and you fight to contain how hard your heart starts beating at the feeling of her hand on your lower back.

"No way…" you utter, voice full of disbelief as your eyes land on one of your most prized possessions from childhood.

"What?" Jennie asks, genuinely on the edge of her metaphorical seat.

"This butterfly hair clip," you inform, slipping the small contraption between your fingers as you hold it up for her to see, "I won it at a fair with my mom and I always wondered where it went…"

"It's beautiful, Y/N," she says, ooh-ing and ahh-ing at the details etched into it. For something so small and seemingly unassuming, it's actually very unique.

"I want you to have it." You say, taking a step away so you can look at her. She instantly goes to refuse, saying, "I can't! You just found it after all this time--"

"And I went all that time without it. If you take it, I'll know it's safe with you. And you can use it to remember me by." You say, your gaze softening as you watch her debate with herself.

"Okay. But if you ever want it back, call me."

"Roger that." You say dorkily, earning yourself a roll of those dark eyes you find yourself getting lost in.

"And for the record, Y/N, I could never forget you. Pretty hair clip or not." Her confession makes you feel happy on a whole new level; knowing that you've left an impact on her is truly a wonderful thing.

"So, what now?" She asks, breaking the happy lull your conversation found itself in.

"We can walk around the park for a little while, or…" you start, waiting for Jennie to prod you further. Both of you know exactly what game you're playing, but it's still fun nonetheless.

"Or?" She inquires, stepping closer as she wraps her arms around your shoulders. She nonchalantly gives you a once over, knowing what power her darkening gaze holds over you.

"We can go back to my place. Maybe play a little footsie, who knows?" You say, shrugging your shoulders with a stupid grin. Even while seducing someone, you can't resist being a geek.

"Footsie?" Jennie gasps, raising her eyebrows, "What kind of girl do you take me for? That only happens after at least 2 dates in."

"Such a prude, Ms. Kim. How can I change your mind?"

She presses a finger to her cheek, pretending to think, before getting an idea. Her lips flirt with the shell of your ear as she whispers obscenities into it, turning you to mush with every new scenario she puts in your head.

You stiffen as she kisses your jaw, the action catching you off guard as you continue reeling from her words.

"I can do that, I think," you cough out, stumbling over the words a little bit. She laughs at the effect she has on you; seeing your confidence waver is a nice role reversal, and it's something she could definitely get used to.

"Let's go." She commands, now taking your hand to pull you after her, just like you had done before.

◇◇◇◇◇

It's painful, how hard Jennie has to restrain herself from touching you as you fumble with your keys. She told herself she'd keep her hands to herself until you got inside, just in case any stray paparazzi managed to catch you two together. The last thing either of you need is some new scandal, especially with your careers in a vulnerable spot as they're really beginning to take off.

"If you don't get that door open within the next 10 seconds, then I'll just take you out here in the hallway."

You audibly gulp at the image she just conjured up in your mind, and you speed up your movements. The prompting worked, evidently, because soon she's practically shoving you through the doorway.

"Finally," she breathes against your lips, pressing you up against the door once you've locked it back.

"I've been waiting to do this since we met earlier." She indulges you in that little secret, smiling at the way you whimper when she pulls your leg up to wrap around her hips.

"I'm all yours," you say, making Jennie's heart flutter at the sentiment. For the night, you're hers and she's yours. "...now kiss me," you command, growing more impatient with each feather-light kiss she presses to your jaw.

"So bossy," she toys, making you roll your eyes.

"You have no idea, babe."

She bites her lip as your husky voice makes its way to her ears, thick with the desire she's been steadily building within you all night. You tug her forward, your fingers bunching up the material of her shirt with little care as her lips meet yours.

Her tongue swipes across your bottom lip, asking for a permission that you granted the second she touched you. You pull her chin down slightly, allowing the kiss to deepen as you tangle your other hand in her hair.

After an especially bruising bite to her lip -- one that thrills her to her core -- she pulls away, breathlessly asking, "How're you so good at this?"

You cackle against her, taken aback by how genuine the question sounded. "Practice for the kdramas, of course."

"I haven't had to do this," you slide a hand between your bodies, smirking at the gasp that sounds off deep in her throat as you make contact with her, "yet though. That might be a little extreme for the screen."

"You think?" She scoffs softly, bringing her hands up to gather your hair to one side. She presses gentle kisses to your neck, prepping the surface for the dark marks she'll most certainly be leaving there later.

"Ready?" You ask, making sure she wants to go through with this.

"You have no idea, babe." She copies your statement from earlier, garnering another smile from you. She swears she can never get enough of that sweet look on your face.

"Follow me," you say, giving her another peck to last until you reach the bedroom.

◇◇◇◇◇ The Morning After ◇◇◇◇◇

Warm, glittering rays of sunlight sneak past the curtains of your apartment window, shining gently through the light material. A dream-like haze befalls the room, serving as a wonderful greeting once you peek your eyes open. The only thing capable of rivaling such a wonderful sight is the woman beside you, her soft breaths keeping your shoulder warm.

As you turn your head to look at her, careful not to wake her, your heart flips. Having her here next to you is the only reason you even believe last night happened; it was magical -- the stuff of fantasy. The two of you did everything: acted on every desire, every impulse -- you truly made the most of the night, determined to make it unforgettable.

A few blissful minutes later, she stirs beside you. "Good morning, Y/N." Her eyes remain closed, still safe from the bright light of the morning as she smirks at the memories replaying in her mind.

You lay a small kiss to her lips, simply missing how they feel against your own. "Morning, beautiful."

A content sigh slips past her lips as she presses them against your neck, cuddling further into you. "Last night was fun."

You decide to tease her. "Eh, I've had better."

If there's one thing that Jennie knows, it's that she's good in bed -- great, even -- and you definitely seemed to be enjoying yourself last night, just as much as she was. Still though, a bit of insecurity runs through her as she raises up on her elbow to look at you through her lashes.

"Really?" She stills her fingers on your arm, stopping them from continuing the trail that they had been blazing just seconds ago. Her eyebrows furrow subtly, the action almost unnoticed by you.

Deciding the joke isn't worth it, you cup her cheek and raise her head so she can meet your eyes.

"No, I'm kidding. Last night was… something else." You chuckle, smiling as your eyes move around the room in an attempt to find the right word for it. When none come to mind -- no words capable of conveying how great it was -- you look back to her.

She has a knowing grin on her face, "I couldn't agree more."

Sneaking a glance at the clock propped up on your bedside table, you get an idea. "You know, Jennie…" you start, purring her name out as you had last night, garnering that achingly familiar groan from her, "...we still have a few hours before either of our schedules start." Your suggestion hangs in the air as you roll her over onto her back, hovering over her and brushing your noses together.

"Hmm, you don't say? Well you're in luck; I still have some things I wanna try out." She plays back, leaning up to press a kiss to the corner of your lips as her hands wander over your body.

Your eyes widen in shock, "What the hell could you POSSIBLY be thinking of?? We tried just about everything." She laughs at your reaction and pulls you down closer to her body to whisper in your ear. Jennie can feel you tremble with every new image she puts in your head, just like she had in the park, her lips dragging you further under as she sneaks little kisses to your skin here and there.

"Let me get this gay straight: you want me to do that on the balcony? What if my neighbors see?"

"They won't, we're on one of the top floors. And even if they do… would that really be so bad?" She lets the question hang in the air; she'd be lying if she said the idea of getting caught doesn't thrill her. Thinking of your lips on her neck as she rocks against you, pinned to the railing while out in the open for the world to see, sends a rush of warmth through her.

"I wish you weren't so good at convincing me to do things. You're dangerous, Jennie Kim." You warn, pointing a disapproving finger at her. Your eyes nearly pop out when she kisses it, taking the digit in between her lips while looking up at you innocently. This woman will be the death of you.

◇◇ Back At The Blackpink Dorm ◇◇

"Yah, I know! The new update looks so weird--"

"There she is," Lisa says, motioning to the doorway, interrupting Jisoo and Rosé’s conversation about whatever new video game the unnie had downloaded.

Jennie leans on the heavy door as she locks it behind her, lazily spinning around on her heel with her lips drawn back in a huge gummy smile.

"Somebody's happy…" Jisoo teases, shooting her a smirk. She's still riding the high you put her on, and it's no wonder her members are noticing. It's not like she's exactly trying to hide it, either.

"How was your night? Have fun with Y/N?" The maknae wiggles her eyebrows while propping herself up on her elbows to see Jennie's reaction.

"LISA! She wasn't supposed to know!" Rosé shouts, letting out a disappointed huff. The younger girl only shrugs, a stupid smirk on her lips. Some people just wanna watch the world burn.

The brunette's daze is momentarily broken at this, and she asks what they're talking about.

Jisoo lets out a hesitant breath before explaining, "We saw you two leave together, but we agreed to not bring it up until you did." She shoots some daggers at Lisa before continuing, "Somebody can't seem to keep her mouth shut, though."

Jennie only chuckles now, not really caring if they knew or not. Her night was too wonderful to keep to herself; she would've ended up telling them anyway.

"Gather round, girls; I'll fill you in."

◇◇◇◇◇ Months Later ◇◇◇◇◇

"Why exactly do we have to go to this premiere again?" Jennie grumbles, looking out the window of their limousine. She'd much rather be back at the dorm, snuggled into her cozy heap of pillows and blankets with Netflix playing on her tv.

"Some of our colleagues are starring as background characters, so YG wants us to attend and show our support." Jisoo informs, always seeming to have more knowledge than all of the other girls combined. Jennie nods; the reasoning is sound, but she'd still prefer to be home. Mingling with business people for god knows how long doesn't seem all that enticing to her.

"What's the movie?" Lisa asks, throwing the question behind her to the other girls as she searches the cubby for some complimentary snacks.

"Empress of the Heart," Rosé answers, finally knowing something that Jisoo doesn't.

"Let's watch the trailer for it. If we have to sit through it then we might as well see what we're getting ourselves into." Lisa suggests, her fingers busy opening the bag of chips she chose from the assortment.

"Yeah, okay." Jennie says, her statement followed by words of agreement from the other girls. Rosé takes her phone out to search the title, pepping up when she spots it. She whispers something to Jisoo and Lisa, Jennie paying no mind as she watches the buildings pass by. Her favorite thing to fidget with is secure in her grip, occupying her mind. It's familiar design feels good in her hands -- like it's right where it belongs. (Yes, this is what you think it is).

The other girls put their acting skills to use as they hit play, keeping straight faces when your voice comes through the phone speakers. Jennie's head snaps over to them, recognizing the sound in an instant. "Y-Y/N's starring in it?" She asks, voice coming out as a stutter. The thought of seeing you again thrills her, but she doesn't know if she can do that without falling even deeper. Your night together left her with lasting feelings, none of which she was prepared for in the slightest, and she knows they'll be reignited the moment she lays eyes on you.

"Mhm." They nod sympathetically, all knowing how much she's thought about you the last few months.

Their driver knocks on the partition, requesting to open it. They give him the all clear, and soon he's rolling it down to inform them, "We're here, ladies."

"I'll be okay," Jennie tells them, attempting to stop their worries from growing anymore than they already have. She plays the statement back in her head, whispering it to herself as she exits the limo; tonight could only go one of two ways, and it depends entirely on you.

☆☆ Part 2 Linked Up Top ☆☆

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llycaons · 2 years ago

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clj 23 (1/2)

ugh clj always does come in clutch with the set designs

HE’S GETTING JEALOUS OVER JIELI CALLING ANOTHER GUY DUMB???? god he’s so funny. they’re all like the most incompetent 21 year olds you’ve ever met

this episode is genuinely hilarious I do love it

they forcibly clownified my girl....

what an incredible reaction. I love immortal changheng. he sees a weird woman living her truth and wearing wild makeup and an unmatching outfit who’s rude and flouts convention and he goes ‘I respect your game and in fact I’d like to rise to meet it’ WHAT a man. in my makeupless and fashion-ignorant state of being I really do appreciate someone who won’t reject a person out of hand for things like that, and instead finds value in their perspective and attitudes

also this sounds like an alternate universe where wwx didn’t meet lwj as a teenager but did meet someone else even more unhinged than him and decided they’re new besties because he admires the commitment. bit ooc because nobody in canon could beat wwx for that unless they were really deranged (xy) and tbh wwx seems to like calmer and more collected people the most (jyl, wen ning, wen qing, lwj) maybe bc they balance him and help ground him, but fun to imagine. he’s also buddies with nhs but they’re not super close and his relationship w jc is a bit complicated to get into in the lb of another show but like. you get it

dude :( this is so sad. he’s crushed. he’s weeping? aw man

yeah the love interests can’t talk politics :/

oh this is gorgeous! inspired by @bipirate, I also wondered if romance associated with lantern-releasing was a trope in cdramas, so I did a cursory google search for it. I didn’t come up with anything, but it’s a beautiful visual and a meaningful event relating to hopes and wishes and new starts (new year’s), so, like american new year’s, I can see how it lends itself to romance very easily even if not inherently romantic. wwx and lwj simultaneously and independently give their oaths that tie them together philosophically through the years, and xy and zf have their moment by the river, but wq and nhs also gave wishes that were completely unrelated to romance. interesting to consider!

WOW I know we’re on ep23 but that’s so forward of him

oh lmao. good for you girl

sorry but the chemistry is not working out for me. it’s going to take more than vaguely disliked and overused tropes like bickering and fake marriage and bodyswap to forget the way he treated her just a few episodes ago

#the music is nice but since it's never diagetic like in cql it feels disconnected from the story #it's so impactful when wwx plays wuji in ep2 even though we don't understand why or know the context #and every other time we hear it including the first time chronologically we're reminded of how strong their connection is #ntm the history of the piece and how wrote it...#lof had an INCREDIBLE scene in 25 with its couple song that really sold me on it since that scene was so transformative to the plot #just pivotal. nothing was the same afterwards. ugh what a scene #this one hasn't gotten there yet. maybe it's coming #and yeah they are staring at each other sometimes but I just don't think anyone can bear out wx for the soulful looks. it might have been #all they could do but they nailed it #and I just don't think any other couple could beat that #clj lb

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grittyreadsfic · 4 years ago

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hello my friends, one singular person asked for this weeks ago so i’m here with my most unhinged rec list yet: tk and nolan.

now, this one was hard to reign in, so i really didn’t. this pairing had maybe 230 fics in the tag when i first started reading hockey fic, and it’s now over 900, and i’ve read far too many of them, and that makes it so hard to parse it down. so i just...didn't!

so with that said, please enjoy so you want to get into tknp: a beginners guide to a classic case of idiots to lovers

i told myself that i couldn’t rec an author’s entire body of work but then i remembered this is my blog and i do what i want, so i did some consolidating. here’s a list of the quintessential authors for this pairing, you can start at any of their profiles and pick any of their fics at random, and it’ll be one of the best ones for the pairing, hands down.

therainbowsedge: i’d start with the summer camp fic, or the sex toys one, as both beautifully capture the true idiots to lovers nature of this pairing, but just top tier writing all around

manybumblebees: the wedding fic is so tender and port stanley is a classic, but literally pick any single fic and you’ll have a perfect tknp fic. i’m not kidding

jamesvanriemsdick: their tknp fics in their series are some of the hidden gems of this pairing (the tk heartbeat fic makes me LOSE it) but the delaware fic or the seattle fic…..there’s really something for every mood

catchascatchcan: start with era of gods because i could write literal essays on how it’s some of the best fantasy worldbuilding i’ve ever read, but then just read everything else on their account, including non tknp fics. you won’t regret it

hackysack: ao3 user hackysack has written one of two timeloop fics that i absolutely adore, and i thought about just calling that one out in particular, but all of their work deserves the attention

canary: nothing to prove was the first tknp fic i ever read and i was immediately hooked. all of their fics are a good starting place for the pairing, and just really give you a feeling for the pairing

and now, for the fic recs!

to be, despite it all by smudgedfreckles

summary: or, nolan patrick’s gender thesis, by travis konecny.

why i love it: there’s not a lot ofo nonbinary characters in media, even in fic, but this fic’s treatment of nolan and their path to figuring out their gender just feels so real and made me feel so seen. tk’s characterization is also just top notch, and it’s just a super sweet story about two people who love each other

last ones standing by makeit_takeit

summary: If you’re committed to finding your future spouse, reads the last line of the ad, and are ready to look at yourself and your love life in a whole new way, apply now.

At the bottom of the ad there’s a link, and Travis finds his finger hovering over the screen, lip still caught between his teeth.

“I mean,” he says very reasonably, speaking out loud to his empty apartment like some sort of possibly-crazy person, “just applying doesn’t mean anything. Maybe I just fill it out, and see what happens. It’s not like I’m really gonna get picked to be on TV, come on.”

He snorts out loud, just to show his apartment he hasn’t lost his grip on reality or anything; he fully understands how ludicrous that would be.

Then he clicks the link anyway, because yolo or whatever.

why i love it: what part of a married at first sight fic doesn’t make you want to immediately dive right in? the concept is fun, the execution is absolutely flawless, and it captures their dynamic so well while letting it develop naturally

motivation by connectknee

summary: Kevin knows when to back off, the article said. He knows just when to shut up and leave Patty alone, something Travis has never known how to do.

why i love it: the thing i love about this pairing is that tk is loud and in your face, and nolan’s more reserved, a little quieter, a little harder to read. this fic does a really great job of exploring how tk could feel like maybe he’s just a bit too much and is one of my favorites in terms of miscommunication

a tenderness grows by rusesdeguerre

summary: Nolan wouldn’t say that landing a job as the Philadelphia Flyers’ psychotic and probably clinically insane mascot was a childhood dream of his. Maybe tangentially: playing pond hockey in –30°C weather and pretending to be Sidney Crosby is practically a rite of passage when you grow up in Manitoba. That, and experiencing the distinct displeasure that is thousands of mosquitoes sucking your blood out when your father drags you on a father-son camping trip into the backwoods of the northern Canadian Prairies.

why i love it: this was the first fic i recced on this blog, and i stand by that decision. a fic where nolan is not only not a hockey player, but is in fact the person in the gritty suit? absolutely perfect, and so charming from start to finish

meet me at my window by springsteen

summary: Travis has lived in Philadelphia for a few years now, long enough to know there isn’t a major city in America where superheroes don’t destroy an entire city block trying to save humanity or whatever. He can deal with all the super-shit, but Travis did not sign up for getting woken up from a deep sleep because some fucker’s trying to break in through his window.

(5 times the super-villain known as "The Cat" breaks into Travis's apartment, plus 1 time Travis invites him in.)

why i love it: there’s a lot of things to love here, but the concept is just absolutely one of my all time favorite aus ever. it’s fun and charming and the perfect glimpse into a world where heroes and villains exist, and what it’s like just to be a run of the mill kind of guy existing in it. tk and nolan’s back and forth in this make it so engaging, and it’s such a top tier fic

body’s in trouble by cloudsandpassingevents

summary: “Oh, sorry,” someone says. “Didn’t know anyone else was here.”

Nolan freezes, then turns around very slowly. When he looks up, Nicklas fucking Backstrom is standing behind him in a hoodie and baggy sweats, holding the biggest bag of Swedish Fish Nolan’s ever seen in his life in one hand.

“Uh,” Nolan says around the pop tart between his teeth. “Yeah.”

What the fuck, his brain helpfully supplies.

why i love it: from nolan’s inner voice, to the way the author explores all the dynamics within the team, to the way they write the unexpected but actually, it kind of makes sense friendship between nolan and backstrom, is just absolutely fantastic. there’s a lot of moments that circle back and build on each other in a way that really just makes it super compelling

rhizomatic foundations by lighthousetowers

summary: Twenty days after he moves in with Kevin Hayes, twenty days – three months, five months, depending on how you look at it – after not talking to TK, TK shows up at the front door with a plant the size of a basketball in his hands.

TK grins. "Patty, meet Reginald." He lifts up the plant. "Reggie, meet Patty. He's going to be your new - caretaker."

"What the fuck," says Nolan, not moving a single muscle.

Or: That Nolan can hear the plant talk might as well just happen.

why i love it: this is probably my favorite magical realism fic just about ever. it’s fun and charming and a little weird, but in the best possible way. there’s such a wonderful narrative in it, and lighthousetowers always has such beautiful writing, and it really shines in this one. the dialogue and nolan’s characterization are also part of what set it apart for me as one of the best tknp fics

in the dark of any town by mengetpegged

summary: If the voice has an accent at all, it’s a flat prairie Canadian, with none of G’s French-Canadian softness at the edges. But mostly, the accent is just ‘pissed off,’ which TK believes is a default setting for ghosts.

“Who are you?” TK asks, and he doesn’t like how strained his voice sounds, doesn’t like the tinge of anxiety tinting the rise of his question. He tries to regulate his breaths—in through his nose, hold, out through his mouth—but it feels like he’s not getting enough oxygen, which makes him panic even more.

“Someone with a fucking migraine, dickhead,” the voice says. “So keep the lights off and shut the hell up.”

(or: Nolan Patrick, Hotel X Ghost)

why i love it: i’m usually not super into ghost fics, both the spooky kind and the nonspooky kind, but this one is a rare exception. it’s charming and fun and tender and it’s got some of, in my opinion, the best characterization of tk and nolan in any fic. the way the author writes their dynamic and their dialogue is just unmatched

lets_make_this_moment_a_crime.mp3 by honeydripping

summary: Travis meets Nolan at a Midtown show in 2002 when he punches Nolan in the face. He can’t help it, “Like A Movie” just goes off.

But he does feel guilty about it.

TK and Patty work at a bakery together. They go to punk shows to pass the time.

why i love it: idk if anyone asked for an early 2000s emo/punk/alt au but wow! i sure am glad it exists! really the vibes of this fic, as silly as that sounds, are absolutely unmatched. i love the structure with the music, the development of their relationship, and just everything about how the author wrote the setting (there’s this whole thing with tattoos in it that makes me feel absolutely insane)

you’re ripped at every edge by you’re a masterpiece by conformityissuicide

summary: “Ugh, look, this yoga teacher has it out for me, man. And I can’t go back there without at least having some of the basics down. I’ve got to win this battle.”

“Yoga isn’t really something you win at,” Hartsy starts.

Travis cuts him off, “You can win at anything if you try hard enough.”

+++

OR that time Nolan's a grumpy yoga teacher and Travis realizes he wants to bone him and prove him wrong about Travis' non-existent yoga abilities.

why i love it: listen, if you want tknp, at least one of them has to be an idiot, and this tk absolutely captures the obliviousness i love to see in him in fic. it’s such a great characterization of them both and such a great concept (and even better execution)

you form a terror pack (and i’m aware of that) by dalmatienne

summary: “Can I help you?” TK snarks, both eyebrows hiked up in a way that has earned her many elbow checks to the ribs.

The chick looks down her nose, long thick eyelashes fluttering. Red-bitten lips part to blow a florid pink bubble and TK can smell the chemical sweetness when it pops.

“Yeah,” she says in this monotonous voice that seems almost at odds with her bubble gum and neon skates. She jams her stopper into TK’s thigh again, literally inches away from where it’d really hurt. “Tie ‘em.”

why i love it: to be honest, i generally don’t read rule 63 within hrpf, but this one is just absolutely knocks it out of the park. the concept (i fuckin’ love roller derby), the characterization of nolan, the pacing, the rituals, the tone of the entire fic, it’s just all around a perfect read from start to finish

thrills and grills by bitter_leaf

summary: Travis can’t even begin to wonder what he did in a previous life to incur the wrath of this fucking cook. Travis thinks he’s a nice person, doesn’t conduct himself in any way that could be considered particularly dickish, and unless this guy has some sort of issue with hockey bros or people from the boonies, he’s not sure how he started shit without even knowing.

Patty has a vendetta. Travis just wants to eat his eggs in peace.

why i love it: honestly this is the enemies to lovers fic i’ve been waiting for. i remember seeing the reddit post when it first went viral and thinking it would make such a great fic premise, so stumbling across this one was just so wonderful. super engaging and fun and so hilarious to read!

nothing but room for you by fightingfuries

summary: When his agent tells him he’s going to be traded to the Devils, Nolan isn't sure how he feels about it. Might be easier if he was going somewhere farther away, like California or fucking Florida. Somewhere sun-soaked and foreign. Someplace so different from Philadelphia that he can forget he ever played for the Flyers, forget everything that happened there.

Or Nolan fucks up, gets traded, gets his shit together and falls in love. Not necessarily in that order.

why i love it: i cannot stress to you how much i love trade fics, and this one is one of my absolute favorites. the trade to the devils-so close to philly, still, but there’s more to distance than physical miles-was such an excellent choice and the split timeline adds so much to the narrative, and the emotions are real and messy and complicated in the best way

a couple of runaways (i’m glad you stayed) by overturnedgoal

summary: The person in the video he’s watching is super annoying. Some obnoxious holier than thou granola type who keeps talking about their environmental impact as if they aren’t driving a gas guzzler around, but the basic idea of living in a van, driving around wherever, camping all the time, just going hiking and swimming and seeing the whole country? It sounds pretty dope, honestly.

why i love it: i like to watch tours and conversions of vans/buses into tiny homes as a self soothing method, and this fic has the same impact that watching those do. it’s such a fun concept, and it’s so fuckin’ soft, and the dialouge between tk and nolan is just *chef’s kiss*

all candor and style in the crook of your smile by p3trichor

summary: It’s a photo of Nolan on his knees with someones’ fingers in his mouth, lips slick with spit. Travis flicks by it almost too fast and he’s only got seconds to decide if he wants to screenshot it, if he wants to just give up the ghost right then and there. Except Travis’s phone freezes momentarily and then the group refreshes, sidcros87, Bert59 and 14 others took a screenshot!

It’s gone before Travis even has time to process it and he already wasted his replay of the day on a stupid video of a stupid fish that Hayes caught.

Can you send me that screenshot Travis texts Bertuzzi before he can overthink it, his dick already stirring in his sweats. Tuzzi sends back the cry-laughing emoji and then the screenshot before Travis can be too annoyed at him.

Or, Nolan is being weird about Travis's break-up and TK is maybe not straight.

why i love it: i genuinely don’t think i have words for the amount i love this fic. it took me forever to actually read, but it’s absolutely one of my favorite fics, and it’s an absolutely riot to read. carter’s meddling and the presence of tyler bertuzzi both make it extra fun, in my humble opinion

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batarangsoundsdumb · 3 years ago

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hae interrogationes multae respondeant quia demens .

if you read this entire ask post you deserve a gold star and financial recompensation

Um, Obviously because when you’re adopted by a white guy you automatically become white duhhh

this is about this post lmao and yeah youre absolutely right, you have to hand your poc card in when you get adopted by a white guy.

Do you think Cass would listen to Yanni, the YouTube channel epic symphonic rock, or some other stuff? There's some cool mashups but idk if that's up your alley, I kinda feel like I'm pushing it with my weird taste of music by recommending an orchestra cover of metal, but i just love that sort of thing and mashups :P @harvestyourcherries

i haven’t heard of that? but in my personal (correct) opinion steph listens to classical music, and then both modern and older, and then also stuff like black sabbath, iron maiden, but also hardrock and hardcore. i like the idea of cass just liking the most extreme screaming songs full of noise and then also listen to pachelbel’s 370th sonata yanno? THANK YOU for the rec tho

speaking of ur cass playlist hc...reminds of the time (yesterday) i found 2 playlists randomly on spotify from the same user. one was abt 3 hours of instrumental/classical "dark" & "nostalgic" music. the other almost 11 hours of nothing but hardcore bass/synth/electronic music. just an incredible tightrope act to put on in public. the synth one was also called like "psalms for synth sluts" which is Also incredible

tbh i LOVE synth SO MUCH like for no reason at all but then also cannot handle a poppy electronic beat lmao. but this seems like the kinda thing i’d do but just in one (1) playlist bc i just sort songs by vibe instead of genre? that’s how i end up with britney spears and billy ray cyrus in the same playlist.

Oh, I want Kate Kane playlist next! It would be amazing if you could do one when you have time and will 🙏

how rude would it be of me to just say no? like sorry kate but idk you and also you seem way too keen on the us military for an institution that homophobically targeted you? (and also commits war crimes) but let’s unpack the fact that the institution that caused the death of your mom and sister and also got you blacklisted for being gay is still one you align with???

'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' --- when i tell you i fucking screamed LOL!!!!!!! i can imagine the cameraman not knowing if he should cut to commercial or keep it on these two weirdos fighting on stage (bruce definitely ruffled dick's hair/noogied him right??

about this post but yeah lmao. this cameraman just turns to like the audience to get a reaction and it’s just multiple moments of CLEAR shock.

you are the only funny person on this hellsite

how egotistical is it for me to say that i get this ask multiple times a month? bc it literally happens so often it’s hilarious to me.

Wish there was more john/Bruce content 😔😔😔 was so hungry I actually looked at canon media 😔😔😔 (Justice League Dark babeeeyyyyyy)

check out batman: damned for some mediocre content but at least it’s john/bruce (also very interesting story and stuff, just got very >:( over this weird part where harley quinn tried to r*pe bruce or something? it’s not for everyone)

dick grayson but he's nicki minaj

his anaconda don’t want none,,, unless......

Dick Grayson was never a cop, he played Marshall on Paw Patrol

you are SO right. also paw patrol is a fucking good show idc. that shit could’ve been the new steven universe on this hellsite.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CS1lI0bLI7-/?utm_medium=copy_link

...

why do people keep reposting my CONTENT. if you are not funny yourself don’t just grab shit off of tumblr and post it on insta,,, get a life. sidenote: should i start an insta and get all these ppl to take my content down that would be funny as hell.

Might I suggest for a Gotham City Meme: something about the true crime fandom thirsting for the rogues gallery

ok can i just say something slightly controversial?? no? i don’t find true crime ppl who are into criminals funny, that shits disturbing irl im not gonna bring that into my very chill universe.

i may have never seen a 'jason cleaning guns in sink' fic but i do know he WOULD

THANK YOU

bestie im sorry to say this to you but while you can, and people do wash their guns in the sink, that is a lot of lead in a very vital part of the kitchen.

people tend to do it in the bathtub.

WHY???? like damn why do you even have guns

i dont think i read many gun sink fics exactly but i have read lots of fics where jason cleanes his guns in the living room. usualy dissembles them and cleans them with a rag i think

lmao fair enough, like i think that’s a large part of what i remember as well.

if you say you've seen/read gun sink fics I believe you. I think those of us who didn't see them are lucky or maybe didn't search for fics by tags or something idk

i mean ive never sought them out but i HAVE seen them,, like definitely i know almost for certain.

saw your tags and I'm interested in Steph/Kara now. They would be the most chaotic couple <3

literally thoooo, i have a wip where they get together in a zombie apocalypse and like UGGGHhhh i am so in love with them.

I am the Breece anon. Thanks for the recommendation; am reading now. I’ve always been a hardcore Superman fan because I love my pure himbo farm boy. My logic is, if one Bruce is a Broose, then multiple Broose are a herd of Breece. And this is a hill upon which I will perish.

fair enough,,,, like moose, meese, goose, geese, bruce, breece. i get your logic and i stand by it as well. (glad you enjoyed the comic recs!!!!)

It's a beautiful day in Gotham, and you are a group of horrible Breece

OH my god dude lmao

there only being 42 fics on ao3 for tim and bernard is honestly so sad i need more

it’s like twice that now!!! we did it lads. (tho very sad that my fic isnt number one but like number 4 :(((( )

i'm too late you already did the poll lol but may i suggest bethy (bernard + timothy)

shit dude that wouldve been so fucking funnyyyyy. think ppl have just stuck to timber tho, tim/bernard kinda died down recently and i think it’s too bad, they’re a great couple and i love them.

Wait, hear me out

Bernothy @redlightofdawn

great recommendation (lmao this ask is from like a month ago) but very sorry to announce that NARDTH is the superior shipname

Wait, we know that bernard likes milfs (Tim's step-mom) but what about dilfs? gilfs?

Wait no, I regret sending that ask

these were two seperate asks and they’re HILARIOUS. in my personal opinion tho,,, milfs, gilfs, dilfs are just about vibes and bernard is just attracted to sexy ppl who may sometimes be milfs, dilfs, or EVEN gilfs.

crime in bludhaven would drop to half if nightwing had a boob window. in this essay i will-

WHERE’S THE ESSAY ANON, WHERE’S THE FUCKING ESSAY

Wait if Barbra and Tim r at opposite ends at all times what happened to Barbra once everyone’s Tim’s ever love before started dying lol

she won a lottery ticket and spent 2 weeks on a resort in the bahamas before returning home and finding out that the joker was arrested for tax evasion and then spent a month staying at her big tiddie goth girlfriend’s house before conner came back to life and she broke her pinkie playing table hockey.

Why is the opposite end thing so funny and compelling to me. Tim comes back from his depression quest for Bruce and Babs is now a literal god

lmao when tim loses his spleen barbara reaches nirvana.

Are you still taking music recs because I have three songs that remind me of Jason that I think you'd like

send to me or lose a toe

🌸 ⭐ put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs. it’s time to spread positivity! ⭐🌸😋

thanks, i wont tho on account of i wont.

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMduBy3Sr/

⬆️

This is the whole of Blüdhaven and everyone anywhere.

Nightwings ass alone saves more people in a calendar year and does more for so society than most heroes do their whole career.Also u are one of the funniest tumblr pages out there. The vibes are unmatched and the memes and tags ✨send me✨.Thank u and goodnight @julia-flow

fanksss also lmao.

That's going to be a little bit difficult to explain, but

There's some music that you listen to and you think, "oh my gosh, I can perfectly imagine Dick Grayson singing this song, with the same voice as the singer because that voice matches with Dick Grayson"?

oh yeah totally lmao. i have a lot of songs that i think are just entirely dick grayson yanno? kind of all of my playlists have that vibe, but i really find bleachers to fit with dick? idk.

"Lois lane/Superman" fics this, "Lois lane/Clark Kent" fics that, (/lh) let's get into the real good stuff. Some people ship Lois, Clark, and Superman as a throuple. Most popular fic tag for sure

yes totally, i think they’d be absolutely killer on ao3 and clark gets so fucking embarassed about it.

I miss your post, hope you’re doing okay!!

haha this was like 2 months ago, but i was doing fine then too! just didn’t have a lot of inspiration in terms of content.

Doot doot!

noot noot

I’m confused. What did DC do now? Like with nightwing? And another sibling? Please spoil everything for me

lmao they gave him a secret sister plotline where they had his dad cheat on his mom with tony zucco’s wife, bc dick’s life wasn’t traumatic enough yet.

sorry but it's so funny that batman is called "the dark knight" when the gotham city baseball team is called the gotham knights. it'd be like if a vigilante was running around new york called like "the scary yankee"

lmaooo no. but like yankee comes from dutch names or something so wouldnt it be HILARIOUS if gotham knights came from like german names and bruce would be running around called the dark KLAUS UND NIEK @graysonnightwing

(not a batcest shipper) it’s so funny to me that the responses are “i’m a batcest shipper because i can differentiate fiction from reality and and it doesn’t bother me personally, but i understand why you oils think it’s weird” to “i wish all batcest shippers a very fucking die”

yeah lmaoo. i personally basically flipped my entire stance around to ‘i dont care please leave me and everybody else alone’ bc i think there’s really no point in starting a moral dillema over some fucking fandom bullshit. Please just,,, go home,,, log off, find a nice forest to have a little walk in and remember that somewhere in history, somebody probably died in the place you’re standing. and you will also die someday, and somebody will have to look at your internet usage and see you fighting multiple people anonymously while being named ‘nightwingsbuttchin200186′ like... calm down, we’re all gonna die this is not the thing to worry about.

so since like "wards" don't really exist in modern society almost all the batkids are foster kids, right? i used to work in the system and imagine: monthly visits from social workers and guardian ad litems, bruce having to get permission to take the boys anywhere out of state, calling their social worker at like 8 a.m. like "yeah dick broke his arm again... a gymnastics accident this time...." their poor social worker. bruce send her a huge bouquet and box of chocolates every month to stay on her good side

i imagine the social worker just getting into the case like ‘yeah let’s get this kid a good guardian’ and then ending up having to work with 22 y/o bruce wayne and his 50 y/o dad. and so this social worker is like ‘okay we can work with this, this is the best home i can find’ and then like it ends up landing on its feet and then the kid gets adopted and then they get a call a year later like ‘uhm so hi, this kid tried to steal my tyres can i adopt him?’ and like 3 years later. ‘okay so basically, my neighbours’ kid imprinted on me and now they’re dead, can i keep him?’ two years later it’s like ‘okay so this assassin child-’

ever since I saw that one post of yours, the meme that's something like "I know that abba's backup dancer got me" with a picture of discowing, I've been haunted. Every once in a while I'll be minding my own business then the image of abba's backup dancer dick grayson aka nightwing aka discowing will flash in my mind and I'll be frozen in place. Today at work I was in the middle of folding clothes and suddenly once again discowing entered my mind and I suddenly lost the ability to see anything except He. Thank you.

wow. the IMPACT.

Braver than any US marine man props to you🤝

this shit is about the time i wrote an article on batcest, like man,,, the fact that i didn’t get cancelled is MIRACULOUS. also like,,, uh if anybody on here did gossip on me,, send screenshots i’d love to see it.

Hello, just wanted to say your article was great. Thank you for taking the time to provide an unbaised answer. It should provide people with nuances they couldn't possibly conjure on their own.

May I ask where your username originates from?

yes you may (also thanks!!!) i thought it up when i was trying to find an original username bc i didnt want to be called like ‘timdrakes something something’ or ‘jason todd something smoething’ or ‘dick grayson something something’ yanno? so i thought batarangs, they sound so dumb and that’s my username story... now it’s my whole entire brand lmao.

yno that bit in kick ass where red mist asks kick ass if he wants a hit of his blunt, was that the inspo for stoner tim

no? it’s bc i think stoners are hilarious and drugs are great. (dont do drugs tho)

How would u feel if someone actually wore one of those bruce or ollie pride shirts u edited

fenomenal next question.

Dick as lil huddy and Jason as James gave me radiation poisoning and now I’m screaming crying throwing up so thx for that

(Rico suave as Tim is perfect tho literally no changes needed)

i was so funny for that shit wasn’t i??? lmao i loved those weird ass fancasts

You're doing the Lord's work by providing us with all these Gotham/Metropolis citizens memes, thank you for being so relentlessly funny @nellethiel-aranel

you’re welcome!! i really enjoy making memes, but getting validation for my content and my memes is REALLY nice.

Bruce is such a slut in your memes and honestly i love that for him @rhodey-rhudert-rhodes-main

he’s that much of a slut irl too dw.

Bruce and Alfred have an emergency pride flag for the batkids. Oliver Queen printed an emergency "I love my gay son" t-shirt and as soon as Roy told him he was dating Jason, Oliver started wearing that shirt everyday and Roy always cringes when he sees it. Oliver also has an emergency "I love my lesbian daughter" shirt just in case for Cissie.

lmao YES i had a post like this bc like all of their kids/family members are so gayy

stop bringing back batfam fancasts it is not real it is not real it is not- 😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀

oh yes it is my darling.

did discowing burn down the notredam because he hates the bees? @allulily

no he did it bc fuck the french.

im gonna beg for 1 thing and 1 thing only. please please please put physical by olivia newton john on dick's playlist

okay then beg. bc i wont. physical reminds me too much of glee and that hurts me mentally.

your playlist is sorely missing some Madonna. Specifically Into the Groove, Like a Prayer, and Vogue

i’m scared of madonna that’s why she’s not on there. she haunts me in my dreams.

suggestion: son of batman by aaron dews for dick’s playlist🤩

sorry, i listened to it and the vibe didn’t agree with me.

Hear me out, metropolis citizens sending rare pair fics of Clark Kent x Superman fics to Lois to edit

yes, absolutely hilarious. even more funny if they send like physical copies, no address attached and lois sends it back marked with red ink, SOMEHOW

Imagine all the smut Clark must of read editing the fics

clark reads smut confirmeeed

NOT LOIS READING SUPERBAT PORN AND EDITING IT A 2AM

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

hc that alfred is a meta that boosts healing factor of the people around him. if the bats are injured as much as they seem to be they would be doing bat stuff MAYBE half the year. no one including alfred knows about this. whenever the kids move out they inexplicably dont recover from injuries as fast and feel better whenever they visit the manor they just chalk it up to homesickness. bruce just thinks he heals really fast. alfred thinks everyone doesnt take care of themselves properly @finchcollector

that’s actually such a great idea, but i think that alfred would find out and learn how to concentrate it better so he can help more people, bc he’s great and i love him.

One of your dickfast posts reminded me of that tweet that goes: 'so you've had sex how many times? Yeah technically that's not a bromance' lol that's dickwally or dickroy

literally tho. like that’s all of dick’s friendships. once it gets past a certain time dick is like ‘wow i wonder what it would be like to make out with wally, wally come make out with me’ and wally’s like ‘we’ve done this like 40 times, dick, you know what it’s like’ and dick is like ‘sorry are you complaining?’ and they just make out.

superfam and batfam associations??

-batman and superman

-dick/barabara and supergirl?

-conner and tim

-jon and damian

pls enlighten me I am confused

nope,,, uhm batman and superman, but dick and superman as well, and then conner and tim, jon and damian and steph + babs with supergirl

I came across a fic in which Wonder Woman calls Batman "Stella" (like Stellaluna, the children's book) and I can imagine the batkids hop on the trend and maybe copies of the book appear at random places (aka, everywhere Bruce frequents)

sorry can’t reciprocate that was the name of my high school chemistry teacher and it gives me nightmares to think about.

good human what are your pronouns?

wouldn’t you like to know?

I need me some gothamites preferring harley over joker memes

everyone prefers harley over joker youre just very fucked up if you dont

don't understand why people try to add like veteran policy to the batfamily

dick pulling out his veteran batfam member card so he can eat first: step aside, peasants

Do you know the song Simmer by Haley Williams? It (the first verse anyways) reminds me of Jason? It's about rage.

damn yeah i LOVE HAYLEY!!!! youre right thoo

Okay so I like listen to your stoner Tim Drake playlist 24/7 but would he listen to skegss? Also I keep adding songs mentally it’s killing me 😩✋🏼 Anyways,, I literally love and worship your playlist 😃🤞🏼 And uh yeah have a good day ✨

stoner tim drake playlist is lyfeeee. also dont know who skeggs is? i’m stupid? have a good day!!

All the Robins (and Batgirl) decide to trade costumes for one night just to fuck with Batman and all the villains in Gotham. @subspacecadet

batman knows it’s them youknow but like,,, what does he call them? he’s like ‘red hood?’ and 3 people answer and he’s not about to compromise some identities so he’s just Pissed.

I aspire to treat cops the way my dad treats them. This man is a 45 year old Asian immigrant to the US and the treats them like his pets. He talks about them like unruly children. Sometimes he pays off local cops to shut up and stop acting racist. And usually it works. I don’t know why but I can see Oliver Queen doing this

vibes... and also yes? oliver queen handing a local cop a donut to shut the fuck up lmao. but yanno i commit enough crimes to not really want to ever see a cop ever, so they kinda scare the everloving fuck out of me.

seeing as tim hasn't aged in years, that means he was 17 at peak emo tumblr era. im back on my emo tim bullshit and im not letting it go

emo tim had a wattpad account send tweet

People seem to think that batman is so dark and serious when the rainbow batsuit is right there. He wore it with no shame.

dude the 60s were a DIFFERENT TIME

dick grew up in a circus, jason grew up on the streets, and tim was probably raised by the internet

all of them cuss every other word and you cannot tell me otherwise

bitch i KNOW but dc has to change to an 18+ rating if they want to sell comix with swear words in them so we gotta deal with imagining the swear words in ourselves

thoughts on teen titans and young justice

haven’t seen teen titans on account of havent seen it and young justice was LITERALLY my favourite thing ever, tho i do gotta admit it’s not at all similar to the young justice comics unfortunately. i really wouldve liked to see timmy bart kon cassie and cissie animated on tv!!

ew ew ew how to delete batcest shippers I genuinely digust them

log off tumblr?

Okay as poc who was called racist for calling an Italian pastabrain: in the batfam are Italians bit Damian just yells various insults about the others being Italian. Just him yelling “What are you doing you moronic spaghettihead!” At steph etc

huh? i meant real italians. homeboy is telling steph he hopes she chokes on her fucking garlic.

I think it's dumb as hell to pull the batman is the best fighter in the batfam argument because like it's just irresponsible of Bruce to let his kids fight when they couldn't possibly be on his league or something

fair enough, but also like who cares they could all kill you just sit down and take a beating.

lady shiva, thalia al ghul and Selina Kyle are all milfs @notanothertimburtonenthusiastugh

unfortunately, i have to admit,,, you’re right

why tf didn't someone give joker a death sentence already? like he's a mass murderer...give him the electric chair treatment wtf

idk i think plenty of people would have tried to murder him already (boring answer is: he is a popular character so they can’t kill him off bc he brings in lots of money)

There’s no such thing as “ copaganda”.

all american media is propaganda. happy to clear this up for you

is it bad that I find lady shiva owa owa

no. find her as owa owa as you want.

aight I'm guessing the order of your favs in batfam:

1. tim

2. Steph

3. dick

4. Duke

5. the rest

you’re wrong but it’s cute that you tried, i generally don’t have favourites, but i have a special place in my heart for steph, tim, dick and cass. bc they were like my introduction to batfam. but damian, jason, duke, bruce, babs and alfred are NOT FORGOTTEN OR UNLOVED

oh my god i was literally just readily willing to believe that italians werent white ty for clarifying it was a joke im so dumb sdkvjskdfs

i mean some italians aren’t white? italian is a nationality as well as an ethnicity, so like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

since I saw so many people doing headcanons about the nationalities of batboys, I see Dick as an Italian.

dont know if youre serious or not, but sure.

super random but

jason 🤝 damian

old english

lmao fair enough.

tim absolutely has 1 gay uncle and his parents shit talk said uncle all the time so after bruce adopts him he specifically reaches out to this uncle to be like "heyyyy just so you know you majorly influenced my life yes i know i havent seen you since i was 5 and at the family reunion yes i know you dont remember my name idc thank you im gay too" and then they never talk again.

yuppp lmao that’s definitely something that could happen. i can also consider tim having no family members, like none. until he does like a dna test and he realises he has like an aunt living barely 2 miles away from him who’s like some illegitimate child of his grandpa.

I dare you one of them sends clark superman/clark fic and clark corrects the shit out of it and then goes like ps his dick is not that big, just telling as someone who has seen it. internet either explodes or goes who tf did he not fuck at this point.

i think everybody would call clark a buzzkill and try to cancel him over that.

so you're telling me Tim Drake wouldn't buy Starbucks?

no. dunkin donuts all the way

One of my favorite things is imagining people finding out jason came back from the dead and being like "oh no does he have magic powers now?!?!?" and he just pulls out a gun and tries to shoot joker

now he doesn’t even have the gun :) lmao

my favorite batfamily fanfictions are the ones where they use their shitty codenames, unironically, in any context

bruce gets codename ‘ugh’ everytime. he hates it.

crazy that tim being a 17 y/o ceo and a stoner who does brand deals are all actual canon things written in detective comics comics and not made up for shits and giggles by you, tumblr user batarangsoundsdumb @rowdeyclown

SO CRAZY HUH?

batman au where everything is the same but his utility belt is bright pink

absolutely, but i raise you, his boots light up like sketchers when he kicks people.

unbeknownst to the superhero fandom writers in the dcuniverse, clark and BRUCE are one of the most prolific fanfic writers in the superhero rpf tag on ao3. clark writes the best lois x superman angst, full of unhappy endings and scenes that are a so detailed you'd think you were in the middle of a superhero beatdown. bruce made an ao3 account to fuel "the do the butts match" thing, and makes batman/bruce fics from time to time. he wrote a superbat fic as a joke but ended up making it REAL porny. @concrastinator

dude they’re WAY too busy for that. Oliver Queen and Hal Jordan on the other hand are the most prolific fanfic writers in the superhero rpf tag writing what is Mostly porn.

When the dining table topic gets to politics, Steph says "eat the rich" as the solution

bruce just silently takes away her fork and knife while she’s talking.

#literally if you got through this i just respect you #this is mainly just for the people who sent me an ask in the past few mask #i hope your ask is in here :)#sorry for everybody else #ask #bataranswers #this took me 4 hours to do so i hope youre happy #also sidenote #does anybody know the latin translation for 'to become'#bc i just used future of 'esse' but it could be a different verb #who cares tho latin is a dead language #big congratulations to everyone who translates my sentence #here's a bonus sentence: tuam matrem futueram

39 notes · View notes

mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years ago

Text

Awaken

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Hwang Hyunjin (some mentions of Y/N x Seo Changbin)

Word Count: 7.5K

Warnings: Explicit smut and language, use of vibrators, Hyunjin is kinda obsessed in this one

Genre: College AU; Professor AU

Summary: When Y/N transferred into a prestigious all-girls university, she never expected to be on the receiving end of a very handsome professor’s near-constant attention.

It had been a difficult decision - transferring from my previous school into one of the most Elite universities in the world. I understand that it might seem contradictory, but there were several uncertainties that impeded my ability to make a decision. The first being an existential dread surrounding the idea of leaving behind my best friends, including my off-and-on again boyfriend, Changbin. The second reason involved my new university’s strict mandate that it would only accept female applicants.

Yes, the school only admitted women, and as someone who maintained a diligent sex life with previous boyfriends, I was not excited by the prospect of being forced into celibacy.

But the pressure from my parents and close academic advisors eventually forced my hand, and I found myself dragging most of my belongings out of my dorm room with a few friends helping me along. “What the hell is in this suitcase, Y/N?” Jisung asked, grunting with the effort of dragging my bag along the sidewalk.

“Probably just clothes,” I said, shrugging because I was trying to remain perfectly nonchalant about my transfer, even though I was having a total meltdown on the inside.

“I think that’s all of it,” Changbin said, and he was giving me that same somber look that I was starting to hate - the one that told me he wasn’t very happy about my transfer. “You know,” he continued, bracing himself against the side of my car. “If you ever need me, I’m only a phone call away.”

“Quit trying to get your dick wet, Changbin, and grab something!” Chan snapped. “Or, are those arms just for show?”

Changbin rolled his eyes, but he leaned down to grab my laundry basket before bringing it to the trunk. “Are you gonna miss us, Y/N?” Jisung asked.

“Not as much as you’ll miss me,” I said. “Who else will edit your essays, Han?”

Jisung frowned as if he was actually thinking deeply about my question. “Maybe I could just email them-”

“Jisung,” Chan interrupted, knocking against his shoulder with an affectionate smile. “There’s still one more box inside.”

“I’m on it!” Jisung shouted, and I grinned at the sight of the younger boy pumping his arms as he jogged back up the staircase.

“He doesn’t really get the severity of the situation,” Chan said, leaning next to me to against my car.

“It’s okay,” I said, looking down at my shoes. “I’ll miss all of you.”

“Y/N,” Chan said, “I thought we weren’t gonna cry until after you left.”

I sniffled around the rising urge to do exactly that before tossing my arms around his neck for a long embrace. “You’ll come see me, right?”

“Of course,” Chan agreed, pulling back to meet my gaze. “Ya! Don’t cry over this, Y/N. It’s supposed to be your big opportunity.”

“Yeah,” I murmured, but it didn’t really feel like it anymore, and when my eyes connected with Changbin’s, I couldn’t help but feel a terrible weight pressing down on my chest.

Maybe this was the worst idea ever, but I was already enrolled for the upcoming academic semester. I would do my best, of course, but I desperately hoped that my parents might reconsider another transfer. Because these were my friends (and my sometimes boyfriend), and I belonged with them.

“Don’t think too much about it,” Chan instructed me firmly. “Call us if you ever want to hangout.”

“I will,” I promised him, and he brushed a friendly kiss across my forehead. It was the ultimate sign that I had truly signed my life away on the enrollment papers for the school in the next town. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad once I made new friends, but at this moment, everything hurt and I was doing my best to hold myself together as I drove away with my old life waving goodbye from the rear-view mirror.

Upon the start of the Spring semester, I was officially moved into my new dorm room which I was sharing with an very enthusiastic young woman named Claire. Her optimism was unmatched, and she had spent most of the day dragging me around campus while pointing out anything that seemed remotely interesting. “You’ll love it here, Y/N!” she promised, and I feigned a smile mostly for her benefit.

“It seems nice,” I told her later on after we returned to our shared dorm room.

“Oh, yeah, the teachers are great!” she said. “What’s your schedule like?”

I shrugged with vacant dismissal, reaching into my bag to hand her the folded piece of paper I had received earlier that week. “You got in Mr. Hwang’s class!” Claire abruptly squealed. “You lucky bitch!”

“What’s the big deal?” I grumbled, snatching my schedule back out of her hands.

“The big deal!” Claire shrieked like I had just committed an unforgivable crime. “He’s only the hottest teacher on campus!”

I rolled my eyes because I should’ve anticipated something superficial. But I was beginning to understand that most of these poor girls were thirsty for anything remotely attractive, and I had even witnessed one girl lusting over a much-older professor just because he still had all of his hair. It was everything I feared about an all-girls institution, and I was beginning to experience the same mania as the rest of them.

But my thoughts usually went to Changbin, and there was no way I would ever fantasize about one of my teachers. “How old is he?” I asked.

“He’s only 27!” Claire giggled. “I’m not kidding, Y/N, it looks like he was literally sculpted by the gods!”

“That’s original,” I muttered. “Well, I hope he’s good at poetry.”

“Oh, he’s the best,” Claire assured me, but I didn’t think I could take her word for it because she was certainly biased when it concerned his looks. “He’s been published all around the world!”

“He must be decent,” I said because the school’s academic reputation wouldn’t allow anything less than acceptable.

“My friend had a class with him last semester,” Claire continued, and I regretted not changing the topic earlier. “Apparently, she could hardly concentrate on the lesson because she couldn’t stop staring at his ass.”

“Your friend sounds dedicated.”

“There’s also a rumor going around campus that he only got his position because he seduced our admissions advisor!”

I snorted at the idea. “I doubt I’ll be that interested in him.”

“Whatever you say, Y/N,” Claire sing-songed. “You’ll change your mind when you see him.”

“I highly doubt it,” I muttered, and I glanced over at the side table where my phone was waiting. “I’ll be back,” I said, and I left the dorm room and found myself in an isolated study room which I ensured was locked before dialing Changbin’s number.

Then, I settled down against the couch and closed my eyes, shoving my hand underneath the waistband of my sleeping shorts to gently graze my fingers against my clitoris.

Graciously, Changbin picked up after the fourth ring: “Y/N?” he said. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

Changbin chuckled, and the static from the phone made it sound far more guttural. I bit my lower lip as I dipped one finger inside my tight heat. “How’s your new roommate?” he asked. “Chan told me that she was unbearable.”

“She’s chatty,” I said, taking a deep breath before asking him: “Changbin, I miss you.”

He was silent from the other end, and I could only pray that Changbin had read the situation correctly, especially when I offered a quiet moan into the receiver. “Are you touching yourself, Y/N?” he asked, and I nodded even though he couldn’t see me.

“I wish you were here,” I told him, and I smiled at the familiar sound of Changbin’s zipper as he tugged his pants down those thick thighs that I loved.

“I’m here, babe,” he said, and there was a slight desperation to his tone. “What are you thinking about?”

“You,” I said, hissing around a stuttered exhale when I grazed a sensitive spot. “I’m thinking about your cock, Changbin.”

He moaned from the other end, and the slick sound of Changbin lubing up his erection was particularly raunchy. “I want you here with me, Y/N,” Changbin said, and I could easily imagine him jerking off his cock from behind my eyelids. “I’d have you on your hands and knees, fingering that little pussy of yours.”

I gasped at his words, arching my back against the couch as I shoved my fingers even further inside. Changbin had an uncanny gift for dirty talk that I attributed in large part to his irresistible baritone voice. “Tell me more,” I begged him.

“Are you wet?”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” Changbin growled. “I could just slide right in.”

“Oh, fuck,” I cursed, and I imagined everything as he continued to describe it to me - moving my fingers even faster at the phantom sensation of his cock filling me up so well like he always did whenever we had sex together. “I want to come so bad for you.”

“Then do it,” Changbin said, grunting from his end as he undoubtedly brought himself to completion.

And I eventually came with a loud moan - shameless despite the thin walls of the surrounding dorms. But I was on cloud nine, savoring the necessary heat of my well-deserved orgasm. “Call me tomorrow,” Changbin said after a while, and I had almost forgotten that we were still talking.

“Yeah,” I panted around a sigh. “I will.”

The bell-tower struck noon when I entered Hwang Hyunjin’s poetry class for the very first time. I had already anticipated a large class, but I was still surprised by the sheer number of students who were crowding the front rows of the classroom. I rolled my eyes because I was forced to sit at the back, and it certainly did no favors for my poor vision.

Regardless, I was also frustrated because there was a small part of myself which remained curious about this mysterious teacher. I could tell that all the other students were practically gushing with excitement, but I schooled my expression and slumped down in my seat as I pulled out a fresh notebook. What the hell were they expecting? A striptease in the middle of our lecture?

However, the most frustrating part of all was the grand entrance of the elusive teacher who had enraptured most of the population. And I couldn’t be any less impressed with him as I rolled my eyes over his tall, lean form. Yeah, he was pretty to look at, but he certainly wasn’t my type. I sighed as my mind instantly reminded me of an image of Changbin; specifically, a sweaty Changbin who had just finished up in the gym - wearing nothing around his waist except for a towel.

“Good morning, everyone,” Mr Hwang finally spoke, and there was a deeper aspect to his voice that I wasn’t expecting. “My name is Mr. Hwang, and this is our poetry 278 lecture.”

There was a collective sigh over his words, and I held back my laughter at the pathetic way everyone was swooning over him. “Let’s start with introductions,” Mr. Hwang suggested, and I groaned because I loathed ice-breakers. “When I call your name, you can give me your year and intended major.”

God, was this Elementary school?

Nevertheless, I waited for my turn, listening as the other students went above and beyond the call of duty to provide Mr. Hwang with as much unnecessary additional information as they could. “I study political science,” one girl said. “I was the leader of my high school’s debate club, and I won an award at the state convention.”

“Impressive,” Mr. Hwang said, and I briefly entertained the idea of the girl fainting on the spot. “Y/N?”

I glanced up to meet Mr. Hwang’s gaze. “Third year,” I replied. “I just transferred, and I’m studying English.”

“Oh, really?” Mr. Hwang inquired. “Do you have any interest in writing an honor’s thesis?”

I blinked twice at the question because he hadn’t bothered to push anyone else for something more. “I’d like to in the future,” I told him, and I squirmed around uncomfortably in my chair when his gaze lingered for several beats too long.

Thankfully, he quietly moved on, and I was able to relax in my seat once again. The lecture proceeded from there, and I sighed when I realized that we would be talking about Emily Dickinson who I had already studied numerous times in my other classes. But I guess that left me the rare opportunity to doodle nonsensical images on my notebook while thinking about my friends, wondering what Jisung, Chan, and Changbin might be doing at that moment.

In another universe, we could be sharing this class together, and I felt a pang of homesickness for my previous school as I listened to Mr. Hwang’s voice at the back of my head. But after another hour, our class concluded and I breathed a sigh of relief as I packed up my belongings. I wasn’t able to finish my picture of Munchlax, but maybe I could work out the details later on. In the meantime, I hoisted my bag over my shoulder as I tried to fight my way around the crowd of students who were all waiting around Mr. Hwang’s desk.

And I was almost at the exit when his voice suddenly stopped me. “Y/N,” Hyunjin said, and I paused mid-step because I wasn’t expecting to hear him call my name. “Can you stay behind for a moment?”

“Sure,” I said, even as I bristled at the thought of having to wait for those other girls to leave first.

They all insisted that they had so many questions to ask Mr. Hwang, and I was left to stew in the corner while crossing my arms over my chest. I had another class in half an hour, and I couldn’t afford to stand around all day while I waited at the behest of a teacher who had somehow won the affections of every student in this stupid school simply by being the prettiest in the room.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Mr. Hwang said with a bright smile to the last girl who scampered out of the room with a breathless giggle.

Finally, it was just me and Mr. Hwang, and I hesitantly walked over to his desk. “You needed to see me?”

“Yes,” Mr. Hwang said as he looked up at me from his grade-book. “Is there something wrong with the way I teach?” Mr. Hwang asked, and I was surprised to see him pouting at me with his lower lip sticking out.

“Uh, I don’t know what you mean, Mr. Hwang,” I said, adjusting the strap of my bag.

“Well, it didn’t seem like you were too invested in my lecture,” Hyunjin explained.

Oh, great, he caught me daydreaming about Changbin.

“I’m sorry, sir,” I said, searching for an excuse. “I’ve been having a hard time adjusting.”

“Ah, that’s right!” Mr. Hwang nodded. “You transferred here for the new semester.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, and I chanced a step back towards the doorway. “I’ll do better in the future.”

“Well, hold on for just a minute, Y/N,” Mr. Hwang said. “I’m here to help my students when they’re struggling.”

“It’s not really a struggle,” I said, but I held my tongue when he pulled out a piece of paper and scribbled something at the top.

“Here,” he said, holding out the paper for me to take. “It’s my personal phone number,” Mr. Hwang added with a wink.

Personal number? “Oh, thank you, sir,” I offered in return because I wasn’t sure what the appropriate response might be in that situation.

“Call me anytime,” Mr. Hwang insisted, and I couldn’t help but notice the mischievous gleam in his gaze like we were playing some kind of game and I was the one who was losing. “I’ll see you on Thursday.”

One Week Later

Despite my new school’s formidable reputation, I was doing exceedingly well in all of my classes. Most of my instructors were greatly impressed, and a few English teachers had already brought up the prospect of mentoring me for the honor’s thesis. Yet, there was one class that I couldn’t quite get a handle on, and I was shocked to see another giant C- written across the top of my latest essay.

I swallowed hard when Mr. Hwang returned to the front of the room to conclude his lecture. What the hell was I doing wrong? I had even sent this paper to a former TA at my previous school who offered to look at it before I submitted the damn thing.

But instead of feeling disappointed about my failure, I sensed a rising anger directed at the man standing in front of the room. Everyone else around me celebrated their A’s while I was left with a nasty letter grade that would hardly reflect well on my GPA. What could the rest of my classmates be doing differently?

“That’s it for today!” Mr. Hwang announced. “We’ll pick up on this again next time!”

I frowned as I stuffed the essay at the bottom of my bag. It still wasn’t too late to switch out of this stupid class, and then I could finally re-orient my focus. “Y/N!” Mr. Hwang called out when I passed by his desk. “Can I have a moment of your time, dear?”

Dear?! “Sure,” I grumbled, once again waiting for the masses of Mr. Hwang’s admirers to leave the room before I confronted my teacher.

“Well,” Mr. Hwang began with an exaggerated sigh. “What will we do about these poor grades of yours?”

I bristled at the comment because it sounded strangely hostile - perhaps even threatening. “Don’t worry, sir,” I said. “I’m transferring out your class. You don’t have to concern yourself with me.”

I turned my back on Mr. Hwang as I started for the exit. “Don’t be silly, Y/N,” Mr. Hwang said. “I’ve spoken to your other teachers, and they tell me that this a requirement for your major. And I’m the only person who teaches the subject.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I hissed under my breath, but I did my best to retain a neutral expression as I returned to his desk. “What’s the problem, sir?” I asked. “I had the last essay peer-checked by a former instructor.”

“Our grading standards are much higher, Y/N,” Mr. Hwang informed me haughtily. “I think the real issue is your attitude.”

“My attitude?” I repeated - completely dumbfounded by the accusation.

“You don’t really show any engagement with the material,” Mr. Hwang elaborated. “You always come to class, but I can tell that your attention is elsewhere. And you don’t even bother to come to my office hours to talk about the topics we cover.”

“I didn’t realize, sir,” I said, and I was shocked that he considered me disinterested in my studies.

“It’s okay to ask for help, Y/N,” Mr. Hwang explained. “You’re the only student who never stays behind to talk to me.”

Because I have better things to compliment your face! “I have another lecture after this one,” I offered as a response.

“Then it seems to me like I should make an effort to meet you outside of designated hours,” Mr. Hwang said. “I have an apartment off-campus. Maybe you can come over this weekend?”

For a moment, I was completely stunned by his proposal. “I don’t think that’s appropriate, Mr. Hwang,” I said, taking a step back away from him.

“Why not?” Mr. Hwang asked. “It’ll just be me and you.”

“Uh, I don’t know...”

“Oh, Y/N, I have to insist,” Mr. Hwang said, and I watched him open his grade-book. “You won’t even muster a C in this class if you keep going at this rate.”

It seemed preposterous that I could make straight A’s in every other class but still fail this one at the same time. “I’ll think about it,” I said while doing my best to ignore his pleased smile.

It was late that night when my phone lit up with an incoming notification. I groaned in response because I wasn’t expecting anything from the boys, but then again, maybe Changbin needed fresh jerk-off material, and I could always send him a picture of my tits. But I was surprised to realize that I was wrong on all accounts, and my heart started beating faster when I read the message:

From Unknown:

Y/N, it’s Hyunjin from your poetry class.

Hyunjin? Oh, right, that was Mr. Hwang’s first name.

To Unknown:

Me: How did you get this number?

From Unknown:

H: The student profiles.

“It’s still an invasion of my privacy,” I grumbled.

H: We can be very casual with one another outside of class. Wouldn’t you agree?

I narrowed my eyes at the informal suggestion.

To Unknown:

Me: If that’s okay with you, sir.

I waited for several moments, but it seemed like Mr. Hwang was finally done texting me. I shrugged at the unusual conversation, but before I could place my phone back on my nightstand, it vibrated with another incoming message. This one had a picture attached....

“Holy shit!” I gasped, dropping my phone onto the bed as my heart started to thud violently inside my chest.

From Unknown:

H: Do you like it, princess?

“Is he crazy?” I decried, and my hands were trembling when I brought my phone screen closer. Because the attachment contained a very obscene picture of a dick, and I didn’t need more than two guesses to assume that it was Mr. Hwang’s.

My fingers were shaking as I stared at the image - zooming in closer to observe the delicate bead of precum glistening at the tip. There was also a hand wrapped around the base, and even though I didn’t have much experience with sex, I could still acknowledge that it was a very nice cock. But did I really just get a dick pic from my poetry teacher?

To Unknown:

Me: I’m not sure what you expect me to say.

I sent the message before attempting to fan my flushed skin - feeling overheated because this was not what I had been expecting when Mr. Hwang sent me the first message.

From Unknown:

H: It’s alright, princess. I’m not much for talking either. Why don’t you come over this weekend so you can show me your reaction instead?

Oh, god, I was definitely teetering on the precipice of very dangerous ground. I’m talking the same kind of inappropriate that could get him fired and me expelled. What the hell was he even thinking? Was Mr. Hwang trying to hit on me?!!

I shook my head because it was suddenly very difficult to concentrate, but I was also feeling the vestiges of panic creeping around the edges of my vision. My hands could barely hold the screen long enough for me to type out a quick response:

To Unknown:

Me: Maybe some other time.

The next morning, I was still shaken from my unexpected text conversation with Mr. Hwang. For most of the night, I simply stared at the ceiling while my phone continued to vibrate with incoming messages. Eventually, I was forced to mute his number, and I still couldn’t fall asleep.

I was barely functional the next morning, but I was also strangely horny, which is why I didn’t hesitate to encourage Changbin when he sent me a message asking if he could come visit. I waited and chose a time when my roommate would be gone - sighing in relief when I heard him knocking on the door. I threw it open quickly, and he was clearly caught off-guard by my eagerness. “I’m so glad to see you,” I said, and I didn’t hesitate to lock my lips with his, kissing Changbin with all the nervous energy that I had tried to keep to myself all weekend.

“Wow,” Changbin managed when we both pulled apart for air. “The no dick policy at this shithole has fucked you up.”

“Yeah? I need you to fuck me, Changbin,” I said, and he must’ve saw something in my eyes that changed his mind.

He pushed us both into my room, turning around to lock the door before reaching down for the hem of his t-shirt. “Bend over for me, baby,” he said, and his voice was husky as I took off my clothes and braced myself against the desk.

“I really need this,” I told him from over my shoulder - shameless as I explored every inch of his toned form.

“I got you, baby,” Changbin said, and he moved behind me to spread my legs, taking a few moments to finger me with his long digits, stretching out my opening while stimulating my clitoris with his thumb. “You definitely need to be fucked,” Changbin remarked. “Your pussy is so tight.”

“Please,” I whispered, and Changbin was quick to replace his fingers with the same cock that I often drooled over when I masturbated late at night. He set an urgent pace from the start, grabbing my hips between his hands to hold me in place as he filled me with his cock over and over again. “Changbin,” I whined, burying my face in my forearms and trying to ignore the pain in my stomach from where he knocked me into the wood on every thrust.

It wasn’t equivocal to one of our more passionate rounds of lovemaking, but it was everything that I needed. Enough to wipe all consideration of Hwang Hyunjin clear out of my head as I enjoyed the delightful friction of Changbin’s cock rolling against the constricting walls of my cunt. “It feels so good,” I whispered, and I closed my eyes in pleasure.

“Tell me when you’re close,” Changbin said. “I wouldn’t want your roommate to come back.”

However, the inherent risk of being caught by my roommate was also a factor in my rapid ascent to orgasm. “Coming!” I shouted while feeling myself unravel around his cock as he rammed himself inside.

Thereafter, I settled on top of my bed while Changbin tied off his condom and tossed it into the trash. I smiled when he crawled in next to me, reaching for his jeans hanging from the edge and pulling out a package of cigarettes. “Open the window,” I instructed him. “I can’t have you polluting my room.”

Changbin chuckled, but obeyed nonetheless. He also drug the ashtray on the windowsill closer before lighting the cigarette and bringing it to his swollen lips for a long inhale. “I really missed you, Y/N,” Changbin said, taking another drag from his cigarette before placing it in the ash tray next to the open window.

“I missed you too,” I told him, closing my eyes for a moment as I relaxed against the pillows - savoring the warmth of Changbin from next to me.

“I had a nice time with you,” Changbin added. “Maybe we could...try dating again?”

I froze at the words I had been dreading to hear. You see, Changbin and I had been dating off-and-on for many years at this point, and we both knew that we didn’t work well as a couple. Yet, that never stopped him from encouraging us to try again, and as much as I loved the sex, I couldn’t tolerate the complicated feelings involved.

“I don’t think so, Changbin,” I said, wincing when I heard him sigh. “You know that never ends well for us.”

“Yeah,” Changbin agreed, although it hurt my heart to see him look so sad. “I can’t help it, Y/N.”

“We can still keep doing this,” I said, reaching over to place a tender kiss on his bicep.

“Maybe,” Changbin agreed, but something in his tone told me that this might be the last time I ever enjoyed Changbin’s company in bed.

“Could I at least show you around campus?” I asked him. “I’ll even treat you to lunch?”

Thankfully, Changbin managed a smile at my offer.

By the time Changbin had left campus, I was feeling strangely alone when I settled at a cafe in the student union to work on some homework. I couldn’t help but feel like I had disappointed Changbin, and I prayed to anyone who was listening that we might still be friends. Because we had been close well before the sexting and late-night phone conversations that always ended up with an orgasm or two.

Changbin was the epitome of the type of guy I usually lusted after: strong, handsome, and intimidating. But we always argued too much whenever we tried the whole couple thing, and that was enough to ruin any preconceived notions I held about a relationship with the object of my most intimate fantasies. “You always manage to ruin everything, Y/N,” I muttered to myself, and it was suddenly way too difficult to focus on homework.

But I was still distracted enough that I almost failed to recognize the man who had just walked into the cafe...until he was standing right next to my table. “I always enjoy seeing my students outside of our lectures,” Mr. Hwang said with a smirk. “Do you mind if I join you?”

It took me a while to respond to his simple inquiry because my mind instantly returned to the picture of his cock that still sat in my messages. “Sure,” I eventually mustered, willing my stomach to settle down while ignoring the harsh smell of his cologne.

“Is that my assignment you’re working on?” Mr. Hwang inquired as he took another sip of his coffee.

Is he just going to pretend like everything is okay? “Yeah,” I said, sliding my laptop screen closer. “For the author essay.”

“Do you mind if I take a look?” Mr. Hwang asked, and I shivered at the dark look in his gaze.

“I guess so,” I said, and I passed off my computer screen, observing the way he read over the words before sighing.

“You just don’t seem to understand, Y/N,” Mr. Hwang said, and I could feel myself almost snapping.

“What don’t I understand, Mr. Hwang?” I asked with barely constrained frustration.

“Oh, please call me Hyunjin,” he replied. “Mr. Hwang makes me sound so old.”

“Fine,” I huffed. “But the essay?”

“It lacks passion,” Mr. Hwang explained. “Your writing is decent, but it’s very by the books, you know? I’m looking for my students to play around with their words and have fun! We read enough academia as it stands.”

“Passion?” I repeated. “And how do you suggest that I learn passion?”

Mr. Hwang smiled, and I felt like I had just walked right into a trap. “You’re a very young and attractive woman, Y/N,” he said. “Have you ever been in a relationship before?”

“Several,” I said, keeping my responses short and vague on purpose. Because i couldn’t figure out where he was going with this strange conversation.

“Several?” Mr. Hwang repeated. “Well, that’s a shame then.”

“What do you mean?”

“The sex must be very boring,” Mr. Hwang said. “If you’re still writing this way.”

I didn’t even bother trying to stop my mouth from falling open. “I really don’t think it’s any of your business!”

“I have to make it my business when your grades are this atrocious,” Mr. Hwang insisted, and his eyes rolled over my form. “I find myself quite attracted to you, Y/N. Perhaps I can help solve this little dilemma of yours.”

Fuck it! I thought to myself as I leaned in closer - ready to risk it all because I wouldn’t tolerate his attitude for another moment! “To tell you the truth, Mr. Hwang,” I said, feeling triumphant when his eyes flashed in annoyance at my blatant dismissal of his earlier request. “You’re just not my type.”

“And what is your type?” Mr. Hwang snapped. “Certainly not that little jock you were walking around with on campus?”

“Changbin?” I said without really thinking, but then I found myself wondering how he even knew about that in the first place. “How did you know?”

“I saw the two of you,” Mr. Hwang said like it wasn’t a big deal. “I couldn’t help but notice, Y/N, and that poor boy was following you around like a lost puppy.”

“This is crossing a line,” I said, slamming my laptop closed. “I can see anyone I want.”

“You’re not interested in doing better?” Mr. Hwang asked. “Trust me, Y/N. I was there once, and most college boys like him are only interested in sticking their dicks into something warm. I think you need someone mature who isn’t only interested in their own satisfaction.”

“Changbin’s sweet to me,” I insisted, and Mr. Hwang scoffed.

“I bet he is, especially if you’re always willing to spread your legs for him.”

“Like you could do any better!”

“Wouldn’t you like to find out?”

I fell back into my seat as I slowly processed his words. “Sir, I-”

“You can’t possibly know if I’m your type, Y/N,” Mr. Hwang continued. “I think I deserve a fair chance to prove you wrong.”

I could scarcely believe how casual he was acting - like this wasn’t completely against thousands of school rules. It was entirely scandalous, and there were so many inherent risks if we were to ever get caught....but, yet, somewhere deep down inside of me, I felt the familiar heat of arousal.

“You’re thinking about it.” Mr. Hwang smiled. “Come over this Friday, Y/N, and I’ll show you what a real man looks like.”

I had never been this nervous before in my entire life, wiping my sweaty palms against my jeans as I walked up to Hyunjin’s apartment. There was a far more rational part of myself that was screaming at me to run in the opposite direction, but the incessant desire to knock on the door far outweighed the consequences. And my breath hitched in my throat when I saw him standing in the doorway dressed to the nines in tight skinny jeans and a white, button-up shirt while I looked like I had just woken up,

“There you are,” Hyunjin said with a sultry tone, and he reached for my hand to pull me inside. “Sit down for a moment,” he encouraged me, smirking at the look on my face as I took in his lavishly decorated apartment. Still, I managed to obey him as I sat down on the leather futon in the center of the room.

“Your apartment is nice,” I commented, and I held my breath when Hyunjin sat down next to me - stretching out his long legs while he studied me with an impenetrable gaze.

“I have a few rules tonight, Y/N,” he said, and I forced myself to nod. “Are you aware of the color-light system?”

“Color-light system?” I repeated.

“How adorable,” Hyunjin said with a mocking tone. “You’ve made it seem like you know your way around a cock, but you’re clearly more innocent than I assumed.”

My eyes widened at his filthy language. “Sir?”

“That’s a good start,” Hyunjin said. “You will refer to me as sir tonight, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” I said, and Hyunjin smiled at my easy compliance.

“As for the color system,” Hyunjin said. “I want to make sure that you’re comfortable, Y/N. Green means that you can handle whatever we’re doing, yellow means that I need to slow down, and red implies that we’ll stop completely. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good,” Hyunjin purred. “Would you feel more at ease in the bedroom?”

I offered him a timid nod, and Hyunjin held out his hand which I accepted - hoping that he wouldn’t notice the evidence of my nerves. But I was half-way expecting something truly horrible, which meant that I was also genuinely surprised to discover a normal bedroom - sparsely furnished with a king-sized bed with a beautiful silk comforter. “Why don’t you take your clothes off for me, princess?” Hyunjin asked, and I shivered at the familiar pet name. “Lay down on the bed, and I’ll grab a few things before we start.”

I waited until Hyunjin turned his back to me before undressing and leaving my clothes in a neat pile on a nearby chair. Then, I hesitantly lowered my body onto the mattress while resisting the urge to cover myself. Especially when Hyunjin returned with a bundle of interesting items, placing them aside while he looked me over from head to toe. “Oh, princess,” he said. “What a beautiful body.”

I could feel myself flushing at his words and Hyunjin laughed. “Where’s that feisty attitude from before, princess? Or was it all for show?”

“Mr. Hwang-”

“Sir,” he quickly corrected me, and I stiffened when he presented a bright red blindfold. “We’ll put this on first,” Hyunjin said, and he ordered me to sit up long enough for him to secure the tie in the back - taking away my sight and leaving me anxious for his next move. “This will make everything feel so much better,” he said, and I jumped when his fingers started to trail down the smooth skin of my stomach. “Oh, you must be very sensitive,” Hyunjin remarked, and I didn't quite know what to do with my hands when he parted the delicate folds of my pussy. “Y/N, are you already wet?” he asked, and I tried to hold back a moan when he inserted one finger, moving it around before leaving me feeling empty once again.

“Let’s try this,” Hyunjin said, and I gasped when I heard the familiar sounds of a vibrator. “You’ve probably used this plenty of times,” Hyunjin continued. “When you had to finish yourself off after those little boys tried to please you.”

He started with my nipples - moving in small circles around the hardened peaks. It wasn’t anything overwhelming, and I enjoyed the pleasant sensation. However, the soothing action didn’t last for long, and I gripped the silken sheets between my fingers, spreading my legs wider on instinct when Hyunjin trailed the vibrations down to my sensitive pussy lips. “Oh, shit,” I said, nearly exploding when the vibrator made contact with my clitoris. Especially when he increased the power - turning the damn thing up to its highest setting as he held it there in the same spot.

I was gone before it had even started, convulsing around nothing as I came hard against the sheets. And I fully expected him to stop since he had gotten his way, but Hyunjin only surprised me when he continued to move the vibrator against my throbbing clit, refusing to relinquish the stimulating vibrations as everything started to burn with the threat of yet another orgasm slowly building.

“Fuck, you’re leaking everywhere,” Hyunjin said, but there was only awe in his tone, and I could practically feel the weight of his gaze. “Such a good girl,” Hyunjin added, and he started moving the vibrator in faster circles while he refused to take it away from my poor, aching sex.

I moaned around my second orgasm - coming hard again, but there was also an undeniable sensitivity that had me trying to escape the cursed vibrator, but Hyunjin only used a firm grip on my hips to hold me in place.

“Please stop!” I cried.

“Color,” Hyunjin growled, and he continued to press down even harder.

“Y-yellow,” I stuttered, and the vibrations slowed down to a more acceptable level as Hyunjin circled the head around my clit.

“I want one more from you, Y/N,” he said. “Then, I think you might be ready for my cock.”

I almost fell apart at his words, and I found myself unable to deny that everything was so good with him. There was also a strange and foreign part of me that desperately wanted to please him, and I started rolling my hips in time with his circles, chasing another high as I nearly screamed from the intensity. “Look at you,” Hyunjin sneered when he turned off the vibrator, and I could feel the bed dip beneath his weight. He snatched away my blindfold, and I blinked rapidly at the returning light before focusing on the obscene image of Hyunjin jerking himself off in front of me. “You have to be honest with me, princess,” he growled. “Is my cock better than his?”

“S-sir?” I questioned, having trouble focusing because of the thick haze surrounding my frazzled brain.

“That little prick you were with,” Hyunjin said. “Is his cock better than mine?”

I was smart enough to know the right answer, and I shook my head from side to side. “Your cock is better, sir,” I said, and Hyunjin brightened with a grin.

“It’s big, isn’t it?” Hyunjin asked, and he was shuffling over me with a sardonic grin. “Why don’t you touch it?”

I swallowed hard, but quickly acquiesced, wrapping my hand around his impressive girth before allowing myself to give him several strokes - making sure to give some attention to the head. “Oh,” Hyunjin moaned, looking down at me with sultry eyes. “That feels good, princess, but would you rather have my cock somewhere else?”

I whimpered at his words. “Yes, sir.”

“Tell me where,” Hyunjin demanded. “I want to know exactly what you want me to do, princess.”

“I want your cock in my pussy,” I said. “I need you to fuck me, sir.”

“Shit,” Hyunjin snarled, and he moved my legs apart to expose my cunt. “How can I possibly say no when you asked me so nicely?”

But I was a complete mess at this point - debauched and overcome with pleasure. Yet, when I felt the tip of Hyunjin’s cock penetrate my weeping sex, I could already feel myself growing excited all over again. He wasn’t gentle either - spearing me with one harsh plunge of his erection against the resisting walls of my pussy.

“Oh, fuck,” Hyunjin said. “Are you sure you’re not a virgin, princess?”

There were tears in my eyes when I reached out for his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he started moving himself around inside of me. Pulling back to leave just the tip of his cock at my entrance, before thrusting forward with unrelenting strength. In spite of his skinnier stature, Hyunjin wasn’t to be underestimated. He knew exactly how to use his hips, and he continued to breach my constricting cunt with everything that he had.

“You’re taking me so well, princess,” he said, forcing my legs even further apart, and finding a better angle to attack the delicate g-spot that rapidly sent me hurtling for my fourth orgasm of the night.

I was completely spent, barely holding on to consciousness while Hyunjin finally came with a hoarse cry of my name - dragging his cock in and out of my pussy as he milked himself for every last bit of cum. Then, he pulled himself out with a far more gentle touch, leaning down for the first time that night to connect our lips in a surprisingly warm kiss.

“Is that what you were expecting, Y/N?” he asked with a playful smile. “Am I still not your type?”

I shook my head because words were the last thing on my mind. But Hyunjin simply chuckled at my speechless state, and I watched him move around the room completely naked as he cleaned up the mess we had made. Meanwhile, I held up my hands to make sure that my vision had returned to normal.

Eventually, Hyunjin settled back down behind me, and I was somewhat surprised that he hadn’t kicked me out of his apartment. Even more so when he started to run his fingers down my waist. “I think you finally learned passion, Y/N,” he said, and I couldn’t help but agree with him.

“Can I start writing acceptable essays?” I asked him with a more confident tone.

“Of course,” he agreed. “But Y/N,” Hyunjin added, and I groaned when he cupped the heat between my legs. “You better call me Hyunjin from now on.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, grinning when I heard him growl in warning.

“You’re asking for it, aren’t you?”

I gave him a coy smile in return, watching as he rolled over top of me to spread my thighs again.

The next day in class, I smiled when I saw an A+ written at the top of my latest essay assignment. One that I had stayed up late to complete while sitting at Hyunjin’s desk with his cock buried inside my wet heat. Apparently, my first lesson was complete, but I couldn’t help but think that there was still a lot more left to learn.

“Everyone did well,” Hyunjin said as he paced at the front of the room. “I’ll see you all again soon.”

The dismissal was met with the beginnings of several conversations throughout the lecture room, and I simply organized my things before tossing my bag over my shoulder. Yet, on the way out the door, I couldn’t help but smile when I heard Hyunjin’s voice from behind me. “Y/N?” Hyunjin called out, and I could already feel the arousal gathering between my legs. “Why don’t you stay after class?”

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mylifeisactuallyamess · 4 years ago

Text

General Hux x Female Reader

A/N: Oh yeah this is still going 😄 (The poem is not mine! Credit to the person who did write it!) Follows TFA as a bit of a filler. Like I said I am working my way to Hux’s speech 😅

Warnings: Erm, fluff? Hux and Ren with their usual hatred. Not much in all honesty, at least I don’t think so. (Let me know if that needs changing!)

Word Count: 3973

Read Part 5 on AO3 here.

He was reading a report from one of the other ships when the door opened and he looked up in surprise. Phasma entered but she didn’t sit down like normal and Hux placed the pad down.

“We have a situation.” She stated.

“What situation?” He asked wearily, pulling his gloves back on before standing and leading the Captain to the bridge which was abuzz with activity.

“Sir! An unsanctioned departure has been reported from the main hangar, a Special Forces TIE is attempting the leave, communications have not been established with the pilot…” Hux felt anger flood his system. What was happening? Why all of a sudden was everything going wrong? He turned to Phasma, his posture stiff, his hands tightly gripping each other as he fought his rising temper and waited for her explanation.

“It was one of our own. Reports of a stormtrooper leading the prisoner to the hangar and entering a ship.” Hux felt a curse filling his mouth but stopped himself from spitting it out. A trooper? One of his own men was defecting. He felt momentarily rigid, the audacity of this trooper rendered him speechless.

“Who?” He spat, his eyes glaring into her helmet but he could tell by the line of her shoulders she was just as angry as he was.

“I shall run the register and find out,” she snarled. He looked out of the viewport to see the lone TIE fly out into space.

“Well don’t just stand there! Shoot them!” He commanded loudly.

“Sir, they’ve taken out our turbo lasers.” Hux did a quick mental check of his ship's weapons, deciding what would be the best to use.

“Use the ventral cannons.”

“Bringing them online,” reported Mitaka.

“General Hux.” Of course. “Is it the Resistance pilot?” Hux bit back the first thing that came to mind when he saw Ren, if the stupid oaf hadn’t brought him onboard none of this would be happening right now.

“Yes and he had help.” The words made his mouth dry out. He was still not accepting that one of his own men could betray him like this and he was determined to make an example of them. “From one of our own. We are checking the registers now to identify which Stormtrooper it was.”

“The one from the village, FN-2187.” Hux schooled his features to one of indifference, of course Ren should already know that information. It made him question though, if the Commander knew of the troopers mind why he didn’t mention this earlier? Was it to see how Hux would deal with this? Was it to try and undermine him? To shatter Leader Snoke's faith in his abilities? Whatever it was, he wasn’t going to let this slide.

“Sir, ventral cannons hot,” reported Mitaka.

“Fire!” Hux enunciated firmly, his wrath barely contained as more information came to light about what was transpiring.

“General,” he went to stand over with Phasma by the holoprojection where she had pulled up FN-2187’s records. His eyes travelled over the information not seeing anything out of the ordinary.

“FN-2187 reported to my division, was evaluated and sent to reconditioning.”

“No prior signs of non-conformity?” He asked curtly, wanting her personal opinion.

“This was his first offense,” she stated bitterly and Hux could tell she was smarting heavily under that armour.

“General, they’ve been hit.” He moved round to the screen.

“Destroyed?” He asked hopefully.

“Disabled. They were headed back to Jakku, the fighter’s projected to crash in the Goazon Badlands.” Hope flared in his gut.

“They were going back for the droid,” he thought out loud. “Send a squad to the wreckage and double the troops on the ground. Do not come back empty handed but destroy the droid if it cannot be captured.” His gaze slid to Phasma and she nodded in understanding before marching off the bridge to carry out his orders. Ren stepped before him and Hux had to stop himself from rolling his eyes in annoyance.

“Destroy the droid?” The dark presence questioned loudly.

“Leader Snoke was explicit.” Bristled Hux. “Capture the droid if we can but destroy it if we must.” He hated repeating the instructions that were said to both of them like he was talking to a child.

“How capable are your soldiers, General?” Hux didn’t miss the sneer emitting from the black mask.

“I won’t have you questioning my methods,” spat Hux, the venom in his voice evident. Kylo started to move and Hux stepped up beside him, not ready to let this conversation go.

“They’re obviously skilled at committing high treason. Perhaps Leader Snoke should consider using a clone army.” You absolutely pathetic individual! Hux could feel his lip curling as his mind fired off all the insults he could spew at the Commander. He stepped before Ren bringing the larger man to a sudden halt, his gaze staring fiercely into the ridiculous mask.

“My men are exceptionally trained, programmed from birth…”

“Then they should have no problem retrieving the droid. Unharmed.” Ah. So that’s what he was fishing for this whole time. Hux smirked coolly.

“Careful Ren, that your personal interests not interfere with orders from Leader Snoke.” Ren pointed a finger in Hux’s face emphasising his words.

“I want that map. For your sake, I suggest you get it.” He stalked off and Hux was left looking at the bridge of his ship almost vibrating with unmatched hatred. He didn’t miss the threat in Kylo’s words but he was the one who had screwed up here, not Hux. His feet were moving before he could process where he was going, taking him through the corridors of his ship right to your door. He didn’t knock this time, letting himself in and hoping you could forgive the intrusion.

You looked up from what you were reading on your datapad, at the sound of your door opening. It had been hours since you’d seen him but you didn’t think he’d be back any time soon. He strode in, his face impassive and ruddy as he paced the length of your quarters and back to the door. He was agitated, you could see his gloved hands behind his back clenching and releasing with every step he took. His hair was falling slightly loose and his green eyes blazed with annoyance. You weren’t sure what to do, he clearly thought of your quarters as a place he could come when he was this wound up and it made that ball of warmth expand in your chest.

You wanted to speak but you weren’t sure how well it would be received so you settled down and just took the time to admire this fine man strutting up and down your living area. He paused and looked like he was going to say something but thought better of it.

“Can I help in any way?” The sound of your voice made him inhale and his gaze finally alighted on you, his pacing slowing but not stopping.

“No, but being here is helping.” You were burning to ask what had happened, what had got him so worked up and you wondered if Kylo had done something to annoy your General.

“Would you like me to read to you?” You asked calmly, picking the datapad back up. “It’s just some poetry from the core worlds.” You looked up at him noticing the frown that marred his sharp features, but he nodded slightly and you took a breath in.

“Is all we do for nothing?

In the end, I mean.

Is any of it worth it?

Truly?

Don’t you know that only

A few of us reach the stars?” Your gaze drifted to him to see his pacing had stopped but the frown was still in place as he regarded his boots. You continued.

“The rest of us claw at the ground

Below our feet

Wondering why we

Could never quite grasp the moon

Or even touch the clouds.

Why do we continue?

If we cannot gain glory

Why bother attempting?

Why bother a chance with a

Flickering light when

You could gain certainty?

Because only legends get to carve their names in the sky….” You looked up to see he was looking at you now. An intense glower lit his gaze, his hands were fidgeting at chest level and you felt your heart flutter against your ribs. “That’s what you’re going to do,” you said softly. “When Starkiller is ready, your name is going to be carved into the history of the Galaxy.” He stepped forward, his fingers flexing as a heavy breath left his chest. The moment suspended around you both as you stared deeply into each other, the intensity of his expression made your insides quiver. His name fell unbidden from your lips hoping you could convey enough feeling into that single word. Your heart was pounding now, a dull ache inside you at the memory of his kiss from the other day. Your lips tingled and subconsciously you ran your tongue over them which drew his gaze to your mouth but to your disappointment he backed away and you couldn’t stop your heart falling into your stomach. The sound of your door closing after him splintered your heart and you curled your fist in defeat. You didn’t know how to get him to open up, to get him to see he was worthy of your attention.

Hux strode down the corridors, his body flooding with adrenaline, his heart galloping against his ribs accentuating the tight feeling in his chest. Every breath felt like a chore as he struggled to get air into his lungs. His mind could barely gather a worthy thought and the image of your open expression and gaze of pure admiration shook him to his core. He didn’t know what to do with it, this feeling that snaked around his insides whenever he thought of you, and now he had the image of you looking at him like that imprinted in his mind. He wrung his hands together, suddenly finding himself back on the bridge.

“Report!” He barked.

“S-sir….” He looked up at Mitaka noticing the nervous look all over his face and he just knew something had gone wrong.

“Well?” The poor man was shaking in his boots but Hux didn't have time to pussy foot around his Lieutenant today.

“The droid got away.”

“The pilot?”

“Not found.”

“FN-2187?” He asked abruptly, already fearing the answer.

“W-with the droid.” Mitaka licked his lips before continuing, his back almost bowing under the pressure of Hux’s intense glare. “They escaped on a YT model freighter.” Fury swept through Hux like nothing he’d ever felt before, his hands gripping each other tightly as he tried to rein himself in from doing something he’d regret. Is this how his father felt? Whenever Hux did something wrong? The difference was Brendol set his son up for failure, Hux had everything in place so these miscreants could not possibly fail.

“Report to Ren at once.” He ignored the way Dopheld blanched at the order and Hux tried not to think it could be the last time he’d see him. Giving news like this to Kylo Ren was usually a death sentence. But someone had to take the fall for this failure, this failure that had nothing to do with Hux at all. In fact if Kylo had exercised his special abilities on the surface of Jakku none of this would have happened. Hux stood stock still in his office, the urge to sweep everything off his desk was monumental but also a waste of effort, so he fought the urge. Automatically his strung out mind thought of you, the scent of your hair as it brushed past his cheek, the warmth of your body as you leaned into him, the taste of your lips on his mouth, and he realised he owed you a decent dinner. He opened the door to his office only to find the Captain on the other side.

“Yes Phasma?”

“Commander Ren has…destroyed a control panel.” This wasn’t news to Hux, he knew the man would exercise his temper and destroy something on his ship.

“Mitaka?”

“Alive, he’s in the medbay as they had to sedate him.”

“The man is….” He couldn't say what he wanted to say about the huge blundering fool that seemed to just destroy everything he looked at. He bit back the rest of the sentence slipping behind the mask that helped him cope. “Send out to our informants we are looking for this BB unit. Source a description from the troopers that saw it. Now I am off to have dinner. I don’t want to hear from you or Ren or anyone unless Mitaka dies. Also give the heading to go back to Starkiller. Understand?”

“Perfectly.” She smirked, standing aside to let him pass. He strode down the corridor feeling an odd sort of confidence knowing he was coming to spend time with you.

“Back so soon?” You asked when the door to your quarters slid open but when you looked up your blood ran cold. Commander Ren stood just inside your doorway, his entire body seemed to vibrate with a dark energy you could feel and it frightened you. Hux coming in here steaming was one thing, Kylo Ren was an entirely different animal. “Can I help you Commander?” You asked softly not wanting to startle him or show any signs of aggression in case it triggered him. His breath was heavy and ragged as it filtered through his mask. You found yourself wondering what was under the helmet, was he human? Did he wear the mask because races other than humans weren’t generally accepted in the First Order? You tried to keep your expression blank as his hands rose slowly, the hiss and click of his mask sounded loud in the quiet and he pulled it off his head revealing a human face. The first thing you noticed was his shock of dark hair, you weren’t sure why but you weren’t expecting it to be hidden under that helmet, and the length...it showed he had no regard for the First Order regulations. His eyes were bright, a rich honey colour and they were fixated on you, his lips were full and plush, freckles dotted his pale skin and you couldn’t help but trace them to his ears. The tips protruded from his hair giving him a boyish look, he looked so young. So this was Leader Snoke’s apprentice, the wielder of the darkside and wrecker of your husband's ship.

“I had nowhere else to go.” His voice was deep and rich, it’s tones pleasing on your ears but you didn’t believe him for a second. Goosebumps rose over your skin as he reached for you, the tendrils of his power licking up the side of your neck and you shook your head.

“I can feel you.” You almost snapped and he withdrew. Surprise marking his handsome features and you realised he must wear the mask all the time so he wouldn’t be any good at hiding his expressions. “Why do you do it?”

“I want to know more about you.”

“Then just ask?” You didn’t have time for this, you knew Hux could appear at any moment and you didn’t want anything upsetting the General anymore. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“You have a sense of calm about you. It’s appealing.”

“That may be, Commander. But you need to find somewhere else to go.” You saw his gaze turn to the door moments before it opened, a look flickered across his face and his hands tightened on his helmet. Your breath stuttered as Hux walked in, if he was an animal his hackles would have been raised. His shoulders were back pushing his chest out, his green eyes spitting fire at the Commander, their gazes locked in a silent battle. “The Commander was just leaving.” You said loudly leaving no doubt from your tone that he was an unwelcome guest. Hux moved behind Ren breaking the eye contact between them, the taller man looked at you and momentarily he looked lost. It was fleeting, a haunted shadow flying across his expression and it sowed that single seed of doubt in your mind. The mask was slipped back over his head and once again he was the faceless monster that terrorized the contents of the ship. He left without a word and you looked at Hux, one hand was behind his back, the other was clenched before his chest as he surveyed the rushing light of hyperspace out of your viewport. You got up and went to stand next to him, you wanted to reassure him but something told you not to speak at all. You noted the way his jaw clenched over and over again, his thumb flexing over his closed fingers, the way his nostrils flared slightly as he took a breath making his chest heave. The tension in the room was becoming unbearable and you desperately wanted to say something to break it, you wanted him to yell or tell you off, even just look at you. Anything was better than this gut wrenching silence. You toyed with the hem of your outfit trying to distract yourself from what was possibly going through your husband's mind. It was late and you were tired, so he must be utterly exhausted. You turned to him, your sudden movement making him flinch slightly.

“Are you hungry?” He barely shifted to acknowledge your question but you were already moving. “I have some Jogan fruit I can prepare.” You didn’t wait for a reply. Dragging a knife from the stand in your little kitchen area, grabbing a plate and you began to slice the fruit into slices. You pulled a bottle of wine from the cooler and laid it all on the table, but he didn’t move, his back still rigid with whatever feeling he was trying to contain within himself. You broke to seal and poured two glasses, slowly moving back to his side and offering him the glass. To your relief he took it, a soft nod dislodged some of his flaming red hair and it fell across his brow. You eyed it for a moment before commenting. “It looks long,” you said softly.

“Yes, I noticed that this morning.” His voice cracked slightly and you wanted nothing more than to take him into your arms and stroke his hair until he fell asleep but you knew he’d recoil if you did, so you settled for comforting him in the only way you knew he’d accept. Just standing in his presence and silently letting him know he wasn’t alone.

“Who normally cuts your hair?” His feet shifted and for the first time you watched as he ran a hand through it, ruffling more strands and a look of disgust crossed his features for a moment.

“I don’t know, I try not to look at them because…” he trailed off looking down at his glass and it dawned on you, they would have to touch him. You felt your heart expand, what had happened to make him so fearful of something as simple as touching?

“You know, I used to cut my fathers hair. I could give it a go.” He looked at you, both brows raised in surprise as he rolled his lips after a sip of wine, you couldn’t help but smile slightly now he looked like he was relaxing a little. “Only if you want me to….”

“Yes.” His answer seemed to shock him slightly and he took another gulp of wine, his gaze turning back out to the lights and you marvelled at how they reflected in his eyes and darted across his handsome face giving him an otherworldly appearance.

“Now?” You asked hopefully. His fingers fiddled on the glass, his gaze darting to the side and you saw his throat bob as he swallowed hard. “We don’t have to,” you suggested trying to backtrack.

“It needs doing.” He necked the rest of the wine and turned to pour some more.

“Ok well I’ll need it wet, luckily for you I have a comb and some decent scissors from Arkanis.” His face paled and he rocked on his heels slightly, his knuckles whiting out with his tight grip on the glass. You stepped into the refresher and laid a towel for him. “I’ll wait outside, I just need you to wet your hair,” you reassured him. Your entire body ached seeing him react this way and you made a note to question Phasma in more depth about his past. He strode past you without a glance and locked himself in the ‘fresher, you had no idea how long he’d be so you decided to sit and wait at the table. Picking up your datapad you’d barely read a page when the door reopened.

Your breath puffed out of you at the sight of him with wet hair, his tunic was undone at the top and you tried to keep your expression neutral as a rich flush threatened to engulf your body. He was the most handsome you’d seen him and he was letting you touch him. You couldn’t ruin this now. You gently tapped on the chair and he made his way over to you, sitting carefully down, his bare hands tugged on his top like he was uncomfortable, his back was dead straight and the first thing you did was put his glass back in his hand. You stepped behind him seeing the subtle shift in his shoulders as the tension gathered in his neck, the muscles corded and you could see his jaw clenching tightly.

“I’m going to brush your hair,” you stated softly. The comb was dark as it ran smoothly through his stunning hair, you’d never seen a colour like it, so bright and vibrant. The appropriate crowning glory for such a man. “Now I’m going to start cutting, please don’t move.” You bent down using the comb to create a straight line and you just trimmed and blended his hair in as much as possible. For the top you ran your hand through the silky firery strands, trying not to get carried away with the feel of them between your fingers. The dampness was cool on your skin and you bit your lip as you tried to concentrate. You wanted nothing more than to touch his hair all the time, this was the longest you’d been in close proximity to him, physically touching him and it made your heart thud loudly. When you came to the front you saw his eyes were closed, a little wrinkle appearing as he screwed up his nose at the sensation of stray strands landing on his face. You softly blew on his pale skin, close enough to see the gentle smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks. He flinched but didn’t pull away even if his hands balled into fists. You murmured an apology, running the comb through once more before declaring he was done. You went to brush off his shoulders but he rose suddenly and you caught the way his hands shook as he dusted himself down. He swept them over his shoulders and down his arms before straightening his uniform, his hair freshly washed and cut meant it fell freely across his brow and he ran a hand through it, clearly irritated that it was in his face. His eyes met yours for a moment before he cleared his throat.

“I should be going.” He said firmly, picking up his gloves from the table and heading to the door.

“Goodnight, Armitage.” You turned to gaze at him over your shoulder and he dipped his gaze slightly.

“Goodnight.” He replied through stiff lips before leaving you alone, once again.

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stanzoeywade · 4 years ago

Text

Poppy x MC Tinder AU

Summary: based off that one tumblr post about a girl who never experienced an orgasm and their friend hooks them up with their lesbian friend. aka, the au that no one asked for.

in which Veronica and Chloe find out that Poppy's never experienced an orgasm and they decide to help her out by creating a tinder account for her, cue MC finding her account and shenanigans happen.

Warnings: swear words maybe some smut but nothing too graphic. (OWO)

If anyone wants to be added to taglist please reply. As always these are only my headcanons so enjoy my take on that tinder au anon asked @somewillwin about. Your brain anon omg.

Taglist: @somewillwin @belvoiresqueenbee @origmansello @clownery-is-a-new-personality @kamilahtrash @poppysminion @poppysimp @captain-hanadeleine @poppysmc @iiizdumb @uselesslesbianfr @scattered-to-the-winds @idiot-justidiot @toyhenoctus

First of all this discussion happens one night where Poppy, Chloe and Veronica get their asses drunk at a frat party. Believe or not the top 3 girls of Belvoire actually care about each other, they just have a really weird way of showing it.

A heart to heart talk starts and the three of them start to confess things that they would never talk about when sober. Cue Poppy saying "I've never experienced an orgasm in my whole life."

Chloe and Veronica just look at Poppy shocked and their jaws drop. Veronica just looks at Poppy with a weird look of pity, whilst Chloe just stares.

After realising what she said Poppy quickly sobers up and clams her mouth shut. "What do you mean you've never had an orgasm before?!" Veronica all but yells. "Gee V, couldn't you have said that any louder, I don't think the whole school heard you." Poppy replies sarcastically.

Veronica just rolls her eyes and says "Girl, you're not getting out of this convo that easily. Now spill the tea sis." Chloe and Veronica look at Poppy expectantly, waiting for her to elaborate. Poppy just sighs and looks away cheeks flushed, as if embarrassed.

The two don't stop pestering her, so Poppy has no choice but to raise her hands in mock surrender. "Fine, I'll tell you" she says as her eyes narrow dangerously. "But if you tell anyone about this, I will actually erase the both of you from planet earth."

Poppy begins to explain that none of her exes made her feel good, and that whenever she had sex with any of them she always had to fake it, so much so that she's started to find sex boring.

Veronica and Chloe share a look and nod at each other. The both of them say "We're gonna set up a tinder account for you to find a good lay (basically the british version of saying good fuck), because that's just pretty fucking sad. Why didn't you tell us sooner, like bruhhh??."

Poppy just looks away and says "Its not like I can just go up to you guys and say 'I've never orgasmed before'". The two just nod their head in understanding before taking Poppy's phone and installing tinder.

They spend some time taking and choosing the best photos for Poppy to use on her tinder profile. (If anyone has seen Euphoria, you know that scene where Rue helps Jules take nudes, it's like that but PG-13) Considering that the three of them were pretty drunk, it was surprising to see how well it turned out.

Feeling sleepy, both Veronica and Chloe retreat back to their room, and Poppy just feels so tired that she falls asleep as soon as the other girls leave.

Waking up the next morning Poppy wakes up to the sound of her phone beeping numerous times and annoyed by the constant ping, she picks it up to see that almost all the notifications were from tinder.

Poppy is confused because wtf? When did she download tinder??? And then it hits her like a truck, 'Oh shit, we were all drunk as fuck last night, I thought that was some bizarre lucid dream but I actually have a tinder account. Fuck.' - she thinks to herself, embarrassed that Veronica and Chloe know her secret.

She sees a few messages from the group chat. Veronica sent her a message. "Poppy, istg if you delete tinder after all the time we spent making your profile look cute, I will post the ugliest picture I have of you on my insta." it reads. What surprised her is that Chloe actually backs Veronica up by saying "Yeah Poppy, it took our three collective brain cells to curate that account so you better use it."

Poppy giggles a little amused by her friends' reaction and she messages them back by saying "Fine, but if it doesn't work out you guys have to pay for my next shopping spree." Chloe and Veronica just agrees albeit unwillingly, but they know not to argue back.

Poppy decides to check the messages and matches that she got on tinder, disappointed but not surprised, most messages say "Send nudes" or a nude pic is attached to their messages. Poppy just rolls her eyes as she immediately unmatches them.

You were looking on tinder for your latest hook-up with no strings attached because ewww commitment and no one really caught your eye, except Poppy. Imagine your surprise when you find Poppy's profile on tinder, deciding that it was a troll account you decide to message them saying "Wow, of all the people you could choose to pretend to be, you choose the HBIC of Belvoire. Stop trying to catfish people, that's just shitty."

Poppy shocked at the sudden message that she gets from you scoffs and replies back "I'm not pretending to be anyone, Farmsville, in case you didn't know even I'm allowed to use tinder."

You just roll your eyes and text back "If you really are Poppy Min-Sinclair, prove it. I might hate Poppy's guts but trying to ruin her reputation by doing shit like this isn't funny."

This catches Poppy's attention, and suddenly she's curious. 'Why would she even stand up for me?' she can't help but wonder.

Poppy screenshots your conversation and sends it to Chloe and Veronica who have vastly different reactions. Veronica's response compiles of this emoji 👀, and the words "Farmsville likes girls, we been knew." and Chloe's response is more of a "WTF, I thought she was dating that Zoey girl."

The girls tell her that it would be fun to mess with you, and they tell her that she should prove that the profile is hers. Veronica also messages her privately saying "girl, her bio legit says 'not looking for commitment' this is like your chance to sleep with her and if you don't, I will." Poppy just grunts in annoyance and decides that fine, she supposed that you were attractive enough for a hook-up.

When you don't get a reply within the next ten minutes you scoff and roll your eyes. 'Damn, people really stoop so low huh.' - you think to yourself. There's a slight disappointment that crosses your mind once the account stopped replying to your messages. You were kind of hoping that it was the real Poppy after all.

Against her better judgement (gay denial right here folks, you're the first to see it), she decides to take a selfie and sends it to you.

Right as you're about to unmatch to what most likely seems to be a fake account, you're surprised to see a message from Poppy's supposed account. It was a selfie of Poppy, where instead of her usual pink fur coat, she's wearing something casual, and to be fair it's a really nice mirror selfie. (This is what I imagine) (I still stand by my headcanon of Poppy looking like Chungha but I couldn't find a good photo lolol)

Doubting that it's really Poppy, you decide to check your socials to see if she's uploaded any new images, and so far you haven't found anything. However you're nothing if not stubborn. You ask if she could prove that she's real and not some weirdo.

Poppy just rolls her eyes annoyed that she's being questioned, as a last ditch effort to gain your trust she sends another selfie, which is a bit more revealing than the last and once you see it your brain stops functioning.

Regaining your composure, you message her saying "I thought you had a boyfriend? What the fuck?" The only response you get is a reaction gif of some girl rolling their eyes. Being the little shit you are you decide to annoy her by sending selfies back, each photo more provocative than the last.

Poppy amused by the photos decides to get you back and it becomes a game of one-upping each other to see who takes better thirst traps. This continues on for an entire week (It's such a stupid competion and both of you know but you're both competitive af so yeah.) until Poppy snaps and contacts you using her actual phone number instead of the app.

Poppy's already frustrated and she's annoyed because she can't stop thinking about you and your stupidly hot, gorgeous body - oh my god I'm going insane she thinks to herself. She decides enough is enough and messages you. "FUCK YOU FARMSVILLE! BACK DOWN ALREADY!"

You wouldn't be yourself if you didn't have a sassy comeback ready so you reply with "FUCK ME YOURSELF YOU COWARD!" sending her yet another thirst trap, this one more revealing than the others.

Poppy snaps when she sees the message and she's quick to make a reservation to her favourite hotel in NYC, because as if she'd be seen taking you to her room. She gets the biggest room because she's extra like that and she knows she deserves the best.

The only response you get is a pinned location on the map, aptly captioned, "Meet me here Farmsville and I'll make you eat your words."

Still feeling feisty you reply with "Is that a threat or is that a promise? 😘😜" and Poppy just tells you to hurry up.

This is a really stupid idea - you think to yourself. You can't help but be suspicious of Poppy wanting to meet up, after all she can use this information against you. However none of that matters to your lust riddled brain, considering the last hook-up you've had was with Professor Kingsley and that was quite some time ago and you're really horny for some action.

You quickly dress in your best underwear, and choose something fashionable yet casual to wear because let's face it even if you hate Poppy, you don't want to look like a loser if you're gonna hook up.

Once you get there, you quickly make your way to the designated room that Poppy told you to go to. Knocking on the door, you're lowkey expecting Belvoire students to berate you, but once the door opens all you can see is Poppy.

Poppy is dressed in nothing but her underwear as she pulls you into the room. Feeling a bit awkward, you decide to break the ice by saying "I lowkey expected this to be some weird plan where you embarass me in front of your clique."

Poppy just looks at you and she scoffs as she says "As much as I hate you Farmsville, even I wouldn't stoop that low. Plus it's a crime to share nudes without a person's permission." You just look at her in disbelief jaw dropping as you take all of her in. I mean if you thought she looked good in the photos, then damn seeing it in real life was a different experience entirely

She notices that you're staring and she just flashes you a smirk and says "See something you like?" and all you want to do is wipe the smirk off her perfect face.

Stepping closer to Poppy, you make the first move and kiss her roughly, each kiss longer than the last and you can feel your heart pound as your nervousness dissipates and all you can focus on is the smell of Poppy's perfume and how it drives you wild. As well as how soft her skin feels against your hands and it's enough to drive you over the edge.

Poppy pulls away and you follow after her, annoyed by the fact that the kisses stopped. You can hear her pant as she struggles to breathe.

As soon as Poppy catches her breath, she says "I'm starting to feel under dressed so let's fix that shall we?" She pulls you towards the bed and she strips your clothing off, and you can't help but stare because holy shit this is actually happening. You start to wonder if you're dreaming until you feel Poppy kiss you again, this time slower and softer and you can't help the wistful sigh that escapes your lips.

You decide to take the lead until you hear Poppy say something. "Wait a minute Farmsville." You stop and listen because no matter how sexually frustrated you might be at the moment, consent is always important.

You wait patiently for her to start talking and she says "Don't make fun of me, but I've never known what an orgasm feels like." You can tell that she's flustered by the way she looks away and refuses to make eye contact.

Your eyes soften up and you kiss her gently on the neck and whisper "I guess that's something we can improve after tonight, but if you feel uncomfortable at any moment in time just tell me to stop." Surprised that you even cared about how she felt Poppy just nods her head softly at you.

"I'm gonna start touching you, okay Poppy?" you say your voice gentle, as you hope that it soothes her nerves. "Just relax and let me do the work, alright, I promise I won't hurt you." Poppy just shoots you a shy smile and your heart pounds because fuck that's the cutest fucking thing you've ever seen.

Kissing your way to her inner thighs, you can hear and feel her squirm against your touch. In order to keep her still, you place her hands on your hair and assure her that it's okay if she tugs on it. You place your hands on her hips to keep her steady as you tease and suck on her clit.

Poppy's small moans of contentment makes you want to do more, so you try extra hard because you want to hear more. You can feel Poppy's body begin to shudder and you can tell that she's close and spurred on by that you insert your fingers into her core and thrust until you can hear scream in pleasure.

You can't help but stare as her body starts to spasm and you let her grind so that she can climax again and it's the most erotic moment of your life.

Poppy feels her whole vision turn white for a moment and she feels euphoric once she realises that she came.

As soon as she regains her bearings, she turns to you, who looks very satisfied, and omg did she just see you lick her juices off your finger. That sends a wave of arousal straight to her core and she looks away embarrassed from being turned on again just a few seconds after coming.

You put your hand on her chin and turn her face towards you forcing her to make eye contact. "It's not over yet, Princess. I'm pretty sure that we can wriggle more of those out of you and the night is young." you say your voice dropping an octave.

By the time that you've finished, Poppy's mind has gone blank and she feels so tired that she doesn't think she can move. She's got to give you props though, because goddamn that was the first time she actually enjoyed sex and she actually got to cum too.

Noticing that Poppy's too tired to move, you decide to lift her up in a princess carry and surprised by your sudden action Poppy's about to protest until you just tell her to be quiet.

Placing Poppy in the bath tub, you turn on the faucet and makes sure that the water isn't too hot or cold as it fills up. After the bath has been filled you slip into the bathtub behind Poppy as you help her clean up.

'Okay now she's just being unfair, why is she being so nice.' Poppy thinks to herself. Trying to make conversation Poppy says "Why are you taking care of me, I half expected you to leave after we fucked." You rest you chin on her shoulder and say "I didn't want you to catch a cold, and besides what kind of a person would I be if I just left you on your own? I like to think of myself as a gentlewoman." You start to place soft kisses on her shoulders and Poppy just sighs wistfully, feeling at peace as she leans back against you. "Don't tell anyone but this was actually the most fun I've had. Hell I don't think any of my exes would have compared against you." Poppy says shyly.

You can't help the smile that creeps it's way to your face. "You can't say shit like that Poppy, I'm pretty sure you're gonna give me a heart attack if you act this soft." you say teasing lilt in your voice and you can hear Poppy giggle. It sounds so soft and you realise that it's a sound that you want to hear.

Your relationship as enemies with benefits start and the both of you can't really keep your hands off each other, God forbid if you're in the same room.

Intense stares from across the room that everyone assumes to be glares, but little do they know that it's your own way of communicating.

One day Poppy calls you up and tells you that you're going shopping, but in reality it was just an excuse to spend more time with you. On the way to the mall, you guys get frisky in the car and before you can stop yourself you say "Babe" and you can't help but think that you've fucked up.

Poppy doesn't say anything but she likes the new pet name and can't wait to hear you say it again.

You guys go to a high end designer store and one of the staff approaches you and says "You guys look good together." While you're quick to deny it, Poppy just thanks them, but as she hears you deny it her eyes widen and you can see her heart break in front of your eyes. Poppy runs off and you're confused.

The employee looks at you and says "I probably shouldn't say anything else today but you should go after her. It's obvious that you both like each other."

Searching the mall, you're relieved once you see Poppy sitting down on a bench, and you approach her carefully. You see that her eyes are red and you feel shitty because you're the reason why she's crying.

Poppy notices you and she's about to run off again until you catch her wrist in your hand. "Poppy please look at me." you plead and she doesn't budge as she tries to get away from your grip.

Seeing that she can't outrun you considering you're holding onto her she just sighs and looks at you. Her face is covered in tears and you use your other hand to wipe them away.

"You know after you called me babe in the car, I was so happy because I thought that it meant that we were dating, but I guess I was just another girl for you to fuck." Poppy says and your heart breaks.

"I thought that you didn't like me that way, so I quickly denied that we were dating. I do like you Poppy, but you never made it clear that we were in a relationship. Though to be fair I should have tried to clear things up too. I guess we're both idiots huh?" You say as you hold her face between your hands.

Leaning in you capture Poppy's lips and she eagerly kisses you back, happy to resolve the misunderstanding.

Unbeknownst to the both of you a Belvoire student caught everything on camera and by the next day everyone on campus knows that you guys are dating.

No one dares to say anything because uhhh POWER COUPLE and they're highly scared of Poppy killing them lol.

Long story short Poppy sees your tinder account and you compete for better thirst traps and well you start fucking and it ends up with you two dating.

Well that was long, hope you guys enjoy, don't forget to like or reblog if you like it.

#playchoices #poppy min sinclair #queen b #poppy x mc #poppydailychallenge #choices #makepoppyali2020 #queen b poppy #choices stories you play #tinder au #veronica lombardi #chloe st. james #headcanons #choices fic #i hope y'all enjoy reading #these is just my take on the Poppy tinder au that anon asked @somewillwin #squint squint #veronica x mc but its one sided bc mc is only interested in poppy

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thejakeformerlyknownasprince · 5 years ago

Note

Brooklyn 99 AU? If you haven’t seen that, just think like an Office or Parks and Rec-esque work sitcom

“Make Terry do it,” Santiago whispered. “He’s good at babysitting.”

“Make Terry do what?” Jeffords looked up from his yogurt, expression concerned.

The informal conference in the precinct break room exchanged a glance.

“We may have arrested a few underage tourists from out of town,” Peralta said. “They may or may not have been drunk, but, uh...”

Peralta glanced at Boyle. “But we left them unsupervised in the back of the police van for, like, two minutes,” Boyle explained quickly. “So by the time we got the breathalyzer working, they were all sober.”

“They all puked?” Scully asked, appalled.

Santiago shook her head sadly. “They all morphed.”

“Wait. You mean...” Jeffords craned his neck to look out across the main room. He caught a glimpse of the group of kids currently sitting in the Nine-Nine’s holding cell, and his expression went slack in horror. “No. No. No, Terry has not had nearly enough low-fat peach-mango yogurt to deal with this today.”

“They’re famous!” Peralta made jazz hands at the rest of the squad. “That’s kind of cool, right? That Marco kid’s a movie star, Tobias definitely counts as a cryptid, and... the others... do stuff...”

“Yeah.” Santiago crossed her arms. “They kill people.”

“There was a war on!” Peralta protested. “Aliens invaded, Boyle’s mom got possessed by a scary slug thing and tried to kill me —”

“She said she was sorry for mistaking the Sharing for a ferret-themed lomage fanclub,” Boyle said.

“Yeah, no, anyone could make that mistake.” Peralta pivoted back to Santiago. “The point is, they killed people as part of a war. And that, like, doesn’t count or something.”

“What’d they do?” Jeffords asked.

"It was only a few murders,” Boyle said.

“Today!” Jeffords gestured to the front room, where the delinquents in question were clearly sitting in their holding cell. “Why’d we arrest them?”

Santiago pulled out her phone, calling up the relevant statement. “They’re claiming they were provoked when, quote, ‘Some guy wolf-whistled Cassie, and then that guy’s biker gang objected to Rachel’s attempts to rip his arms off and feed them to him, and really it was their fault all along.’” She looked up. “Signed Jake Berenson. Which begs the question: did we get ID from any of them?”

“They all morphed,” Boyle pointed out. “Who else could it possibly be?”

“So that explains the entire cell’s worth of muscular guys with mild-to-moderate grizzly bear wounds downstairs,” Scully said, staring upward in wonder.

“That’s it, we’re all babysitting them,” Jeffords declared. “And by that, I mean that we’re getting them out of our hair as fast as we legally can, whether or not we charge them with anything in the process.”

“Agreed,” Santiago said, shoving open the door to the main room.

The scene in the holding cell was... not pandemonium. Jake and Cassie were sitting on the bench at the back of the cell, Cassie’s head leaning on Jake’s shoulder. Rachel leaned against the bars, picking at her nails. Tobias sat on the crossbar next to her, preening. All in all, the kids seemed to be cooperating, which was a mercy. It wasn’t like the Nine-Nine had the budget for even one-tenth of the equipment necessary to actually contain an Animorph, after all.

Still, it was probably for the best that some wise soul had moved all the other prisoners downstairs.

“...and you can conceal up to 15 knives in the interior pockets alone,” Diaz was telling Marco. He watched with rapt fascination, leaning over her desk, as she unfolded a butterfly knife one-handed and then swung it closed again.

“Rosa, did you let him out of the cell?” Santiago asked, exasperated.

“Nope.” Diaz shrugged. “Must’ve broken out on his own.”

“He didn’t break anything,” Jake called from inside the cell. “Marco has not damaged or defaced any government property, nor have any of the rest of us.”

“And yet somehow, there are not one but two delinquents meandering unrestrained around my precinct.” Holt had emerged from his office, and was now looking slowly from Marco to Ax.

“Yeeeaaah, he’s not technically under arrest.” Peralta jerked his chin at Ax. “Seeing as he’s not from Earth, we probably can’t arrest him? And even if we can, it definitely wouldn’t be worth the headache of trying to charge him with anything in intergalactic courts.”

“If you’re not under arrest, you may leave,” Holt told Ax sternly.

Ax straightened up from where he had been eating... something... off the floor of the microwave. “I am not going anywhere without my friends!”

“That’s so beautiful.” Boyle swooned against the door frame. “It’s like you share a six-way love whose unmatched intensity pours out of you...”

“Not in front of the kids, Charles,” Peralta said.

“What? I was just—”

“If you’re allowed to leave, could you at least go get us some hot dogs or something?” Rachel asked Ax, ignoring the cops.

“Nah, hot dogs are a Chicago thing,” Jake pointed out. “Go for knishes, or pizza, or... what else is in New York?”

“Those little paper packets of honey-roasted peanuts,” Cassie suggested.

Everyone glanced over when there was a loud thud from across the room, and then back to the conversation when they realized it was just Marco trying, and failing, to get one of Diaz’s knives to stick in the surface of her desk.

«Tacos.» Tobias looked unerringly at Scully. «There has to be a taco truck around here somewhere, right?»

“Don’t you worry.” Scully pulled his partner to his feet, gasping at the effort of unsticking Hitchcock from his comfortable chair. “Me and Hitchcock’ll show him all the best food trucks in Brooklyn.”

“How many — any — are there?” Ax asked eagerly.

“Two hundred seven, if you don’t count pushcarts or ice cream vendors,” Hitchcock said immediately.

“We shall return with a bounty as great as three sets of human arms can bear,” Ax promised Rachel.

She flashed him a thumbs-up.

“Hot wings!” Cassie called. “That’s a New York thing, right? Hot wings?”

“Have we got a sauce for you,” Scully promised, a hand on Ax’s shoulder.

Jeffords ran to intercept them at the door. “You can’t just wander in and out of the precinct with suspects, Scully!”

«If you don’t like Ax coming and going, you could always just arrest him,» Tobias said acidly.

There was a long silence. During this silence, Ax slipped out the door with Hitchcock and Scully behind him.

“Kids these days and their attitudes,” Jeffords complained, spinning around too late to intercept Ax and then turning back to give Tobias his sternest stare. “I should speak to your parents or guardians, young man.”

Tobias laughed. «Joke’s on you, since I don’t have any parents or guardians.»

“What?” Jeffords ran forward to press himself against the bars, appalled. “Do you want to come home with me? Cagney and Lacey keep telling me they want an older brother, and Sharon makes excellent chicken cacciatore — you don’t have any food allergies, do you?”

“He’s ours and you can’t have him,” Rachel snapped, standing up to get in Jeffords’s face. She didn’t seem to care much that she had to tilt her head back at a 45-degree angle to make eye contact, and somehow succeeded in conveying that she was looking down at him.

“Duuuuuuude!” Marco exclaimed loudly from across the room. “You really mean it?”

“Sure.” Diaz rested a hand on the hatchet that lay across her desk. “I teach people how to throw ‘em all the time.”

“Marco!” Rachel turned away to whack on the bars. “Quit fraternizing with the enemy.”

Peralta gasped loudly. “We’re the enemy?” he asked in delight. “Are we your nemeses? Does this mean that we’re as scary as the Yeerk Empire?”

“Why?” Jake stood up, making eye contact through the bars. “Do you want to be? Are you saying that you’re controllers?” He took a step forward, not breaking his stare. “Or was that just an expression of sympathy for their cause?”

“Uh.” Peralta laughed nervously. He’d taken several steps back in the last few seconds. “You know what, never mind. We’re cool, right? Alllllll cool. Super cool. The coolest.”

“That’s easy to say for someone currently holding us against our will.” Jake still sounded unamused. “We have complied fully with your demands up until now, and will continue to do so unless you give us a reason not to.”

“Are you threatening my detective?” Holt asked, very mildly.

“Are you charging me with additional crimes?” Jake’s voice wasn’t mild at all.

“Have I mentioned that I’m a big fan of you guys’s work?” Peralta asked, making a grand gesture to include all of the Animorphs. “Because I’m thinking maybe that didn’t come through. Huge fan. Love the way you squash those yeerks. It’s a delight having you here.”

“Of course we’ll go along with whatever you think is best, Officers.” Jake sat back down. He had yet to look away from Peralta.

“Amy I think I changed my mind about having kids,” Perlata said all in one breath, smiling and nodding as he continued to back away from the cell.

“No, chicks dig hatchets,” Diaz was explaining to Marco. “Guys tend to get all weird about it if you start flinging weaponry around.”

“Oh yeah, that makes sense.” He was still hanging on her every word.

“The trick with guys is to pull out a little bit of that feelings shit.” Seeing the expression on his face, she shook her head. “You don’t have to go full-hog and reveal your real name on the first date or anything.”

Marco laughed. “Oh good. Because I am not looking for that kind of commitment. I usually don’t want any commitment to anyone, ever.”

“Good policy.” Diaz clapped him on the arm. “Nah, with dudes it only takes a little bit of sappy stuff. I’m talking a moderate-tier confession, like...” She considered for a second. “I keep one of my knives hidden in my boot, and it doesn’t set off metal detectors when I gotta work government buildings.”

“Uh-huh.” Marco bent over the sheet of paper on his lap, scribbling frantically.

“Are you taking notes?” Rachel called, disgusted.

“More importantly, is he taking notes on the back of his own arrest form?” Santiago rushed across the room to rescue the rest of the paperwork from Marco’s defacing.

“Nah, it’s cool.” Diaz held up the back side of Marco’s paper. “It’s just the arrest sheet where Peralta made four attempts to spell ‘Aximili’ before declaring that we probably couldn’t arrest an alien anyway.”

“Those two events were entirely unrelated!” Peralta said loudly.

“Of course, we all believe you.” Santiago leaned over to pat him on the arm.

“If they can’t arrest Ax, can they arrest you?” Cassie asked Tobias.

He shrugged, or at least it looked like that’s what he did. «They still haven’t processed me, so I suspect not.»

“We are going to process you,” Boyle said, “just as soon as we figure out how to scan your fingerprints.”

«But I’m not under arrest yet, am I?»

“Aren’t you guys legally required to release him, then?” Cassie turned back to the room at large.

“We can hang on to all of you for twenty-four hours,” Santiago called back.

“The question is,” Peralta muttered, “do we want to?”

“I’m gonna keep this one around to bring me iced coffees and gas up my motorcycle.” Diaz was watching Marco polish one of her axes. “For a kid, he’s pretty dope.”

Marco gasped, a hand over his heart. “You don’t mean it!”

She held up a finger. “Too sappy.”

“I have a hatchet?” He held it up in offering.

“Better.”

“Speaking of our legal rights,” Rachel said, “can I call my mom? She’s a lawyer, after all.”

“Yeah, well my mom’s a teacher,” Peralta said immediately. “And you don’t hear me bragging about it.”

“That’s not the point.” Santiago sighed loudly.

“The point is,” Holt interjected, “she asked for a lawyer, and we need to provide her with one.”

«Can your mom be my lawyer too?» Tobias asked.

Rachel shrugged. “Sure. I think. Jake already took his phone call, and Cassie wasted hers on checking in at the hospital—”

“I just wanted to be sure that we didn’t permanently injure that man,” Cassie said mildly. “Only showed him the error of his ways.”

“You did that, all right,” Diaz said. “I like your style, for what it’s worth.”

Rachel rolled her eyes.

“I like your style,” Marco breathed, staring up at Diaz. “Teach me everything.”

“You want to be a cop?” Cassie asked him.

“What? No!” Marco turned quickly to Diaz. “No offense, it’s nothing personal, they don’t mean it, but also...”

“Nah, it’s cool. You’re a smart kid,” Diaz said. “Cops are losers.”

“Excuse you,” Santiago said, “Could a loser win both the ‘Most Organized Seminar’ and ‘Highly Relevant Community Announcements’ awards from the same commissioner in one year?” She gestured pointedly to a matching set of plaques on her desk. “Checkmate.”

“I have brought a bounty of wings!” Ax declared. At least, it was presumably Ax speaking from behind the teetering stack of take-out boxes that went clear over his head and somehow didn’t include the four additional plastic bags of Chinese food hanging off his arms.

«Ax-Man, you are a god among insects,» Tobias said.

“Not on top of the binders!” Santiago lunged to shield them with a drawer before Ax’s tower of food boxes could topple onto the front desk.

“Can I have some?” Peralta asked wistfully, watching as Ax slotted an entire pizza box through the bars to where Jake and Cassie could pry it open.

“Here Jakey, we got you a tub of Wing Slut sauce.” Scully set it reverently on Peralta’s desk.

“Really, you shouldn’t have.” Peralta scooted his chair back several inches, eyeing the tub with suspicion.

As the better part of the Nine-Nine watched in horrified fascination, Tobias tossed his head back and swallowed a Buffalo wing whole. After a second he made a hacking sound and spit up the bone, now completely cleaned of all meat.

“You eat wings?” Boyle asked, leaning in to peer through the bars. “Is that cannibalism?”

“It’s an open question,” Cassie said. She folded a paper plate taco-style to protect the lo mein inside, sliding it out to Ax. “Can you make sure Marco eats something with lots of carbs before he goes hatchet throwing?”

Ax took the plate, saluting her with his free hand. “The sauce is most excellent, sell-lent, when consumed through a straw,” he told Peralta in a conspiratorial whisper as he went by.

Peralta pushed to his feet. “Yep, I am never having kids, and I am never eating food ever again.”

“Human bodies do not continue living if you do not consume sufficient nutrients.” Ax pointedly set the lo mein in front of Marco.

“Ha!” Peralta said. “That’s what everyone said about drinking water, and yet!”

Marco grabbed a handful of noodles straight off the plate and dropped them in his mouth. “The bagels might be better here, but you can’t beat California’s Chinese takeout,” he concluded after chewing for several seconds. “Sorry,” he added, glancing up at Diaz.

“If you suck up any harder, you’re going to injure something,” Rachel snarked.

“Why, are you jealous?” Marco batted his eyelashes at her.

“No, she just remembers that we’re all under arrest right now,” Jake said loudly. “And that we’re under no obligation to say or do anything without a lawyer.”

“Which is why I’m here. To ensure you do not talk yourself into any more trouble than you already have.”

Everyone turned to look at the newcomer.

“Hi Aunt Naomi,” Jake said, voice small.

Rachel rounded on him. “You used your phone call to contact my mom?”

Jake held up both hands. “I didn’t say anything about the alcohol!”

“Alleged alcohol,” Naomi said loudly. “Which these minors have not admitted to purchasing or consuming, because they have not made any statement admissible in a court of law, because you have been holding them all here illegally without an advocate.”

“Ma’am, I think you’ll find that we made every effort to secure advocacy and legal representation for these children with all due haste.” Holt moved smoothly across the room to shake her hand, and then ushered her into a chair. “Detective Peralta deemed it necessary to hold them here for their own safety until such time as we could obtain statements from everyone involved.”

“Has anyone pressed charges yet?” Naomi sat in the folding chair like a queen on a throne, and glared at Holt until he — with a wincing glance at the dust on the seat — sat across from her.

“No, ma’am. The only person likely to do so is still at the hospital,” Holt explained.

“Oh yeah, he said he wasn’t going to,” Cassie called over.

“What,” Peralta said, laughing. “You just called him on the phone and talked him out of it? Just like that?”

Cassie shrugged. “I asked nicely.”

“It’s Cassie,” Marco told Diaz in a stage-whisper. “She does stuff like that.”

“Hardcore.” Diaz looked Cassie over.

“But I’m still more hardcore than her, right?”

“Too desperate.”

“I have four knives?”

“Better. Only four?”

“Where else am I gonna put them? I can’t morph and wear a leather coat at the same time.”

“Point.”

“If they’re not being charged with anything,” Naomi said overtop all of this, “and they’ve already given their statements, then you need to release them from custody.”

“I’m not comfortable doing that if we’re not releasing them into the hands of a parent or legal guardian,” Holt said. “I’m given to understand from their earlier statements that Jake is your nephew and Rachel is your daughter?”

Naomi nodded.

“Then I can only release those two to you.” Holt seemed genuinely regretful that this was the case. Then again, it was Holt, so it was hard to tell for sure.

«Look, if Jake can go with his aunt, I can go with my uncle, right?» Tobias said.

“Yes, that would be acceptable,” Holt said.

“Thank you, human captain.” Ax gave a small bow to Holt. “I accept this responsibility.”

“Wait, wait.” Santiago looked Ax over. “No, we’re not going to just... How old are you, anyway?”

“I am eight-six years old,” Ax announced.

“Eighty-six,” she repeated.

Ax stared back at her, implacable.

Holt sighed. “Obviously, he is referencing the fact that andalite years are approximately point-two-four-one-zero-nine times the length of human years. However, since the law does not specify whose years one must count in order to determine whether an individual is over the age of eighteen, I believe I take his point.”

“Does this mean I’m eighty-six too?” Marco asked quickly.

“Were you born on Earth?” Santiago raised her eyebrows at him.

“Uh.” He glanced at Diaz. “Wouldn’t you like to know!”

Diaz gave him a subtle fist-bump.

“My son is not an adult, nor does he mean to indicate that he wishes to be charged as an adult,” Naomi said quickly.

“‘Son’?” Marco squeaked.

“‘Son’?” Holt asked, frowning.

“Yes?” Peralta stuck his head up, took stock of the scene, and quickly sat back down.

“Son.” Naomi stared straight at Holt. “In fact, I will be taking all four of my children, both adoptive and biological, when I leave here today.”

“You adopted me?” Marco demanded. “Do I get a say in this?”

“Do you have proof to back up your assertion that you are these children’s mother?” Holt hadn’t broken Naomi’s stare either.

“The way I see it, you have two choices.” Naomi reached into her purse, pulling out one of her own business cards and setting it on the desk between them. “Either you allow us to walk out of here, in which case I promise you’ll never see any of us again... Or you continue to hold these minors without formal charges and without counsel, in which case I promise to pursue legal action against whatever stray bricks of this precinct are left standing after my daughter and her friends exercise their legal right to exit the building with as much force as they deem necessary. Which option would you prefer?”

“See?” Jake whispered loudly to Rachel. “I knew I made the right call by calling your mom.”

“I take your point,” Holt said, after a moment of consideration. “Very well, you and your children may leave. Do keep them out of trouble in the future, won’t you?”

“Thank you for your cooperation, Captain Holt.” Naomi shook his hand.

Boyle was quickly fumbling for the lock on the cell door. “Can I have your autograph?” he asked Rachel as she went by.

Rachel looked him up and down, and then kept going without a word.

“Here, I’ll do it.” Cassie took the paper and sharpie from him.

“Can you make it out to ‘Nikolaj’?” Boyle asked, eyes wide.

“Maybe.” She uncapped the pen. “Can you spell that?”

“N-I-K-O-L-A-J, oh and can you add something about always listening to his dreams, and also the music of Diana Ross?”

Slowly, Cassie looked up at Boyle. She capped the pen — she’d settled for “to Nikolaj, from Cassie” — and handed everything back to him.

“Marco, dude, we’re going,” Jake said. He currently had both arms around Marco’s waist and was pulling him backward from Diaz’s desk.

“But... but...” Marco looked up at Diaz. “Call me?” Immediately he shook his head and said, “too desperate?”

She smirked. “Nah, you’re cool.”

He let out a lovelorn sigh and went limp, which was all the excuse Jake needed to haul him over one shoulder and head out of the building. Cassie and Ax followed, Tobias fluttering up to land on Rachel’s shoulder as she headed out too. Naomi brought up the rear, casting a pointed look around the room as she went.

“Man,” Jeffords sighed, “I should’ve gotten an autograph for my kids too.” And then he rounded on Peralta, midway through sneaking the Wing Sluts sauce tub into the trash can. “What did we learn today, Peralta?”

He considered. “Lawyers suck?”

“No!” Jeffords said. “Well, they do, but... Santiago?”

She looked up from where she’d been making an incident report to this exact effect. “Next time we’re thinking about arresting a whole batch of superpowered child soldiers on questionable misdemeanor charges... don’t?”

Holt nodded gravely. “Well said, Santiago.”

#animorphs #brooklyn 99 #animorphs au #brooklyn 99 au #long post #ficlet #brooklyn 99 crossover #animorphs crossover #aus #food #vomit mention #i know nothing about how police work #that i didn't get from watching this show #no research was done in the making of this crackfic #anonymous #asks

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drink-n-watch · 6 years ago

Text

Genre : Action, fighting, supernatural

Episodes: 12

Studio: Platinum Vision

Something has awakened. Something that’s been slumbering for a long time is beginning to stir and the shockwaves are being felt all over heaven and earth. Demons are getting restless and the attacks on innocent villages have become routine. Thankfully, the Sanzo party is here to protect the good people from the fiends that would do them harm. Never mind that they happen to be just as fiendish themselves. As long as you can pay for the services, you can trust them. Probably. After all, you have to be able to trust a venerable Sanzo monk now don’t you? He’s the one smoking and getting into a fist fight with his demon buddy while screaming obscenities. Yeah, this should work out just fine!

The journey for this little title to make it on my to watch list went something like this: this looks like an otome adaptation, it’s probably really stupid, I’m gonna watch it. a week later – yeah there’s plenty of stupid out there, maybe I don’t need this one, I’m going to flush it. Wait the summary says Yokai, I like Yokai, I’m going to keep it. OK, I guess I should really watch this at some point…

yeah…this is a smart way to start this post…

If you didn’t pick it up from my little skit there, I did not know what I was getting into but I sure thought I did. The production value for this show is decent. animation can get a bit visibly cheap with reused scenes and stills with offscreen battles but for the most part, everything is well done. Voice acting is quite good, colours stick to a signature palette, design and art is pretty.

Unfortunately, I think this pretty design and art is in fact doing Saiyuki Reload Blast a disservice. I took one look at those chiseled young men and their intricate costumes (all different and this is important) and I immediately thought, this is clearly an otome. At best it’s a poor man’s Touken Ranbu which remains one of the best cute boy shows I’ve ever seen and also only. The lack of a clear female lead was pushing me towards option number two but I was expecting some basic slice of life nonsense with historical flourishes thrown in for flavour. Some manservice and if they wanted to push it maybe a drop of hoyay suggestion.

look at all that…mancandy?

I judged it entirely on it’s cover I have to admit. I’m willing to bet I’m not the only one at that. That’s the problem you see. Those that are generally uninterested in those types of shows probably dismissed it offhand. I don’t blame them, the aesthetic is pretty glaring, and it’s not entirely wrong, the show is classified as Josei. But aside for a few scenes in the OP, there’s no fanservice at all (unless you count the lady monk with the super tight outfit) and none of the expected staples of the genre. Someone specifically looking for the show insinuated by those visuals, would be disappointed or at least, confused.

The narrative and execution of Saiyuri Reload Blast is closest to a rather traditional fighting shonen. If you had switched one of the main characters’ design to a sexy lady without changing anything else at all, you could have marketed it as such easily. The season is roughly separated into three arcs. The opening establishing arc plays out as a series of monster of the week episodes, with our main party going from one village to the next and saving them from demon attacks. It’s fine, a little dry but I’ve seen worse.

I said it was ok….

The second arc is a flashback to 500 years prior where the story starts to really from and the foundations are laid for the greater lore. It quickly became apparent the this show was basing itself on a Journey to the West, which is pretty awesome. It’s a very loose retelling but there were enough similarities for me to recognize it pretty easily, that made my appreciation for the series rise quite a bit.

This flashback arc was rich in references to classic Chinese folklore and filled with a tense atmosphere unmatched by the other episodes. I also found the flashback characters considerably more interesting. Despite how bloody and ultimately sad this arc was, it was by far my favorite part of the anime and I would have loved a season that explored just that story. The last arc brings us back to the present where past and future collide in an all out multiple episode battle.

After watching the show I found out that Saiyuri is an expansive franchise. Reload blast is only the latest in several anime incarnations, a whole series of OVAs, multiple rounds of manga, at least one movie and a stage play. This may in fact explain some of my gripes. You see, Saiyuri really plays up a lot of shonen tropes. The never ending battles, mid-fight monologues (this is so prevalent in fact that I think in the middle of battle is the only way we get an exposition), the best friend fisty cuffs, the super dramatic realization screams and the cathartic last minute saves.

Nantaku really needed more development mind you

They’re all there and all well done, except this is a 12 episode series. When you’re characters are going through this massive emotional struggle over what is a pretty silly situation in fact at episode 60, it works because you’ve grown to really know the characters and you accept their eccentricities. Also the stakes have been slowly rising so you got accustomed to it at your own pace before everything spilled over into ridiculous. Now you’re just kind of in for the ride. When the same thing happens at episode 4 you’re like, yo relax dude and this is kinda silly.

The low episode count and the need to fit in a fully realized three arc narrative with a centuries spanning background really condensed everything. To Saiyuri’s credit, the narrative was still pretty easy to follow and although the characters were pretty shallow, they weren’t completely 2 dimensional either. But the dramatic pacing is what really suffers here and ultimately will stop most people from engaging with what is at it’s core a decent, even interesting story.

mullets again…

If you happen to be interested in the Four Great Classical Novels of Chinese literature, I say give this anime a shot. It has some good moments and the parallels with Journey to the West are really fun to notice. If you like the character designs and are in the mood for a fighting anime that won’t make you commit to a high episode count, this could also be for you. Otherwise, it’s uneven and clumsy. There was enough there for me to be intrigued about the other anime seasons and-or manga but not enough for me to actively seek it out.

Also, in the very last episode we find out the jeep they have been driving in al along has a mind of its own and is in fact Hakuryuu which is Hakkai’s pet dragon. We find this out in the last 5 minutes of the last episode. Like wha??? OK, I’m done now. Oh no wait one last thing. There’s no Yokai. I mean the demons are technically yokai but they call them demons and they look like demons… this show has some failings is what I’m saying.

Favorite character: Field Marshal Tenpou (If there’s a season dedicated to the heaven’s arc – I will watch it!)

What this anime reminded me: This is the only way a monocle makes sense:

The problem with some people is that when they aren’t drunk they’re sober

Suggested drink: Berry Burbon Blast

Every time Sanzo is sleepy(ing)– take a sip

Every time Gojyo gets called a water sprite – take a sip of water

Every time Sanzo tells someone to shut up – take a sip

Every time we hear a stomach growl – get a snack

Every time Hakkai spouts random facts – humour him

Every time Gojyo’s chain scythe thingy appears out of nowhere – take a sip

Every time Nantaku gets hurt – take a sip

Every time Goku throws a fit – roll your eyes

Every time anyone smokes – take a breath

Every time there’s mid battle monologue – laugh, it’s all you can do at this point

Saiyuki Reload Blast – Journey to the Middle Genre : Action, fighting, supernatural Episodes: 12 Studio: Platinum Vision Something has awakened. Something that's been slumbering for a long time is beginning to stir and the shockwaves are being felt all over heaven and earth.

#action #anime #blonde bishie #fighting #Saiyuki #supernatural

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sunshinemiranda · 8 years ago

Text

King of the Lost Boys - Anthony Ramos x Reader (Chapter 4)

Summary: Nibs seems to see a certain spark between you and Pan. Some Pablo Neruda is traded for intimacy. A waltz ends up in a fight. Hook wants Neverland.

Warnings: Swearing! (it’s pretty much all Nibs that kid curses like a sailor)

Words: 5,299 (listen...just listen...)

A/N: oh my god i have sucked so bad with writing lately. this helped me get over a block but i also totally procrastinated studying for an exam haha priorities so that’s great! there is a song that plays in this chapter so i’ll just link it on one of the words in the scene. please listen to it, oh my god, it is so good. enjoy.

askbox | masterlist

Change was in the air. Everyone could feel it crackling in the air like electricity. The future loomed, clouded, unsure and threateningly close. Time seemed to pull to an immediate stop in Neverland, but as soon as you stepped one foot on the highway asphalt, it was if the world had to compensate for the temporary freeze by speeding up instead.

“God, before this term is over, Mr. Kravitz will actually kill me.” Nibs was groaning from the corner, buried in piles of textbooks, loose pages and half-finished assignments.

“You’ll be fine,” you chuckled. “Besides, it’s too hard for him to kill a student who never goes to his class.”

Narrowing his eyes, he flipped his middle finger in your general direction, to which you replied with an affectionate grin. Things with Daveed had smoothed over in a way that you had never thought possible. He was more insecure than anyone believed him to be and a new bond of trust between the two of you made talking through it much easier. You had worked past your prejudices, and he had finally gained a friend through more than compensation. It was the perfect equation.

“So, (Y/N), since you’re a new member of the Lost Boys,” he drawled, standing to make his way to sit across from you. “I’ve got to ask. When are you going to fuck Pan?”

You, in the middle of drinking from a mug of tea, choked ungraciously as you sputtered through words. “Oh my God. You can’t just spring that shit on me. The answer to that is: A, I don’t have to tell you anything and B, don’t ask stupid questions, dickhead.”

He reached one of his long legs out to kick gently at your shin, a bit of a laugh bubbling from his chest as you choked on mint tea. “You do have to tell me something because you’re one of us now, and my questions are gloriously stupid, thank you very much. It’s one of my talents with the ladies. They all think I’m dumb.”

You couldn’t help but snort out a laugh as he made a show of himself, puffing his chest out in mock pride and flexing to the point of it looking painful. “You know, that’s probably the truest thing you’ve ever said in your life. I always did wonder how you got so many dates. You have a truly unmatched talent and being unintelligent. Congratulations.”

“Don’t you try to get purposefully carried away now. We have to talk about this.”

“Nibs, there is nothing to talk about. Pan and I kissed like, once at a bar. He was drunk, I was drunk. People do that all the time and never even interact again.”

“First of all, Pan was sober as fuck when that happened. It’s not that he doesn’t drink, it’s just that he hadn’t gotten to it when you guys made out. He made that decision in good judgment and through a valid choice.”

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes. “Then let’s just say I was drunk. That still doesn’t change anything.”

“Actually, yes it does. It takes Pan at least, like, four shots to actually find a girl he’s willing to swap saliva with. It didn’t take any for you.”

“Gross. We did not ‘swap saliva’, Daveed.”

“Right. And I don’t think your friend is hot. Anyway, you’re right when you say people do that all the time and never speak again. Remember who you’re talking to, babe, I’m the master at avoiding. Problem is, you guys interact. A lot. And half of it is charged with this weird, frustrated, sexual tension that just makes everyone uncomfortable.”

You gave a groan and let your head fall back on the couch. “Can we please not discuss my love life? I already feel like enough of a sinner in your presence.”

“So it’s your love life with Pan, now? Hm. Interesting.” Daveed nudged your leg again, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Fuck you, Diggs.”

“Wrong person, (Y/N). The person you want is Anthony, who, by the way, should be getting here any minute now.”

You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Wow. You’ve really painted me into a corner. Way to use your clever wit. I’m not scared of being in his presence, Daveed.”

“I believe that,” he nodded, and it was sincere. “I just think it’s better for you guys to be alone, so I’ll be leaving when he gets here. That way, you guys can talk it out without other people in the room, and when I say talk it out, I mean use that couch for what it’s for.”

“Nibs, you don’t understand. He’s…different with me, and different with you. It’s like he has-“

“Two personalities.” Daveed gave a sigh, reaching into his pocket for a cigarette and a lighter. “I know. It’s a problem for him.”

“You knew this entire time?” You couldn’t do anything but stare. Up until this point, it had been a Jekyll and Hyde case with Anthony that you thought had been under wraps this entire time.

“We all do. It’s hard to talk about it with him, he gets so defensive. We were all hoping that he’d realize he doesn’t have to pretend to be a hard-headed dick in the public eye now that he’s met you.”

Eyes widening, you opened your mouth to pull a snarky reply together but the screen door clattering open dragged your attention away.

Anthony stood there, in all his leather-jacket clad glory and God, it seemed like he looked even more beautiful than the last time you’d seen him. His hair was down for once, and the sun had brought out his star-kissed freckles. He shot you a smile and the part of your brain that could not be controlled whispered, fuck. Daveed was right.

“Right, that’s my cue,” Daveed stood, throwing his leather jacket over his shoulder. “I should get going. Nice to see you, Pan.” He reached out and grasped his leader’s hand for a moment before sweeping by you, shooting you a quick, almost imperceptible wink as he exited.

Anthony took a seat, letting out a tired breath. The smile was still on his face but it was uneasy now. The atmosphere had changed. “Was Nibs bothering you?”

“Yeah, but just the usual kind of bothering. I don’t think Daveed can help but get on everybody’s nerves, at least a little.” You offered a smile, an olive branch of sorts.

“Oh, God, I know. I still don’t understand how these women fall at his feet while he manages to still be that childish.” A laugh fell from his lips and it was as if the sound dissolved all the uneasiness in the air. He was truly a magic kind of boy.

“He’s undeniably good at what he does,” you chuckled, leaning back on the couch as you took a sip of your tea.

He let out a breath, closing his eyes with exhaustion momentarily before he shook himself and glanced at the table in front of you. It was covered in different books, highlighters, colour coded page markers. A Pablo Neruda book was open on the table, orange highlighter picking out special lines.

“Did I interrupt anything?” He asked, concerned, and gave a gesture to the table.

His comment ripped you back to reality and, blushing, you reached forward to scramble your open books and highlighters into a pile. “No, no, I was…I was just reading.”

“You need all that,” he chuckled, moving from the wooden chair to take a spot next to you on the couch. “Just to read?”

“Well…yes,” you smiled, staring at the half-open Neruda book in your hands, still open to a poem titled Absence. “I can’t read a Neruda book, or Whitman’s words without knowing I have a highlighter. I feel like if I don’t remind myself which parts made me feel something, that I’ll forget it altogether and I’ll never remember why Charles Bukowski made me feel a certain way.”

A silence passed and you looked up to see him staring at you, eyes deep with awe and reflection. You blushed, looking away hurriedly, embarrassment coiling deep in your chest.

“It sounds stupid, doesn’t it.” You attempted a laugh, looking down at your hands as your face burned.

He paused, and then reached out, gently taking the Neruda book from your hands. Gently, he reached out to tip your chin up, encouraging you to meet his eyes again. He was smiling.

“I love Neruda.”

It was a silent assurance, a wordless comfort that he understood, more than anyone you had ever met, what it meant to be at the mercy of words.

“Then let’s read some,” you smiled, reaching to take the book from his hands. You flipped through the pages thoughtfully, silently wondering which beautiful passage to read from. Finally, you found something.

“Beloved of the rivers, beset by azure water and transparent drops-“ you started, but the look of recognition on his face dragged your attention to him.

“I love this one.” He grinned.

“Me too,” you admitted, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.

“(Y/N), please, could you continue?” He asked, voice soft. “It sounds so good when you read it.”

The way he stared at you with the wondrous eyes that seemed to reflect in the curious gaze belonging to children made your heart clench painfully. The realization that the two of you were still, simply kids came flowing back. Somewhere in the past, he had been let down and you felt a strong willingness to right every wrong committed against him rise up in your chest. You sent him a fond smile before continuing.

“Like a tree of veins your specter, of dark goddess biting apples; and then awakening naked to be tattooed by rivers, and in the wet heights your head filled the world with new dew. Water rose to your waist, you are made of wellsprings and lakes shone on your forehead. From your sources of density you drew water like vital tears, and hauled the riverbeds to the sand across the planetary night, crossing rough dilated stone, breaking down on the way.” In glancing up, you caught a sight of him mouthing the words of the poem to himself, leaning ever closer to hear you say them.

“All the salt of geology, cutting through forests of compact walls, dislodging the muscles of quartz.”

You set the book down and looked up to grin at him, to which he returned it.

“That one always reminds me of Neverland. I didn’t lie, you know?”

“About what?” you enquired.

“About it sounding good when you read it. It really did.”

“Thank you.” You found yourself blushing harder than you had planned. “You’ve got a good voice too, you know. You should read one.”

“Okay. My turn then,” he smiled and you reached to place the book in his hands. He flipped through the pages until he found a particularly highlighted page, marked all over with notes in the margins and orange streaking line after line.

“I have scarcely left you, when you go in me, crystalline, or trembling.” His voice struck a resounding, plaintive chord within you and the air itself seemed to still at the sound of his voice speaking poetry. It was all of a sudden imbued with a magic that was incomparable. It seemed that he was practically made to speak beautiful words. “Or easy, wounded by me, or overwhelmed with love, as when your eyes close upon the gift of life that without cease, I give to you.”

He looked up, saw the rapt attention with which you listened and moved closer to you, took one of your palms in his. His fingers ran rampant, tracing lines over your fingers, exploring, and yet still preoccupied with the words on the page.

“My love, we have found each other thirsty and we have drunk up all the water and the blood, we have found each other hungry and we bit each other as fire bites, leaving wounds in us.”

You could hardly breathe with his presence and yet you were so enraptured that your body seemed to tremble at his tone. It was overwhelming in the sweetest way possible.

“But wait for me,” his voice had softened. “Keep for me your sweetness. I will give you, too, a rose.”

The room fell so quiet that even the birds of Neverland ceased their singing. Then, in unison, the two of you drew a breath and released it at the same time, as if your lungs had synced on purpose, your hearts matched beat and oh God, his hand was still tracing shapes over yours.

“My turn,” you murmured, voice barely a whisper.

It didn’t take long to find the poem you had pored over endlessly. After the first night you had met this boy, someone who had managed to reinvent your world in the space of one hour, you had read these words over and over, finding relevance and bittersweet memories in every line. It was painfully familiar.

“We have lost even this twilight. No one saw us this evening, hand in hand, while the blue night dropped on the world. I have seen, from my window, the fiesta of sunset in the distant mountain tops.”

His fingertips started their motion again. You had to remember how to breathe before you could continue.

“Sometimes a piece of sun burned like a coin in my hand. I remembered you with my soul clenched in that sadness of mine that you know. What were you then? Who else was there? Saying what? Why will the whole of love come on me suddenly when I am sad and feel you are far away?”

You ventured a glance past the book and saw him staring intently at you, eyes searching, searching, and then finding. You weren’t sure what he had been looking for but by the look in his eyes, you assumed he had found it. Your stomach fluttered.

“The book fell that always closed at twilight and my blue sweater rolled like a hurt dog at my feet. Always, always you recede through the evenings, toward the twilight erasing statues.”

A prolonged silence marked the end of Pablo Neruda’s words flowing between you and his hands wandered past the heel of your palm, pushing back the leather jacket that marked you as one of his circle to start tracing shapes against your wrist. An involuntary shiver travelled down your back.

“There’s this one that always reminds me of you.” He whispered.

“Read it to me.”

He flicked through the pages gently, as if afraid that a sound too loud would break the balance you two had created with so much poetry heavy in the air. Finally he found the desired page and you caught a glimpse of the title: Sonnet XVII. It was your favourite.

“I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz, or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.” By the first line, his voice had punctured the air like a golden arrow. It was boyish and youthful, soft, powerful and undeniably magic. Everything with Pan seemed to be touched by fairy dust.

“I love you as certain dark things are to be loved: in secret, between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers; thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance, risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.”

You leaned closer to hear his words and revel in the atmosphere he created and so did he, an ever-present desire for closeness deep in his heart. Soon enough you were tucked against his side, hand on his chest as his voice created vibrations that tickled your palm. His arm draped gently over your waist and there you sat, knee to knee, hip to hip, side to side, as you listened and he read.

“I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride. So I love you because I know no other way than this: where I do not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.”

The air crackled as he closed the book and set it down. His eyes went to you immediately and stayed there, searching for that same thing he had been looking for just a moment ago and staying locked on that. You slowly realized that he had found it with more ease this time. You had let your feelings become too obvious and it was time to stop being a child. Pulling away quickly, something in the air broke and the world started to spin again.

“I have to go. I promised I’d meet Nat at the Lagoon for a few drinks.” You stood, posture wooden, pretending to brush at your clothing to avert your eyes.

He stood too and as you looked up, you were astonished to see that he hadn’t closed down and exhibited his defense mechanism of lashing out. There was a soft smile still on his lips.

“Okay.” It was a simple but genuine reply and before you could realize the significance of that, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss on your cheek, light enough to be the brush of a fairy’s wing. “Be safe, (Y/N).”

You could do nothing but smile as you nodded, pushing out of the screen door as your stomach tumbled like a clothes dryer.

Pablo Neruda would never be the same again.

“So you guys read poetry to each other…and still didn’t make out.” Daveed’s voice was disbelieving and you could see him cocking an eyebrow at you from where he sat.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, (Y/N), just jump his bones, it’s not that hard, I don’t see why-“

“Am I interrupting something?” Slightly grinned from the doorway, a messenger bag likely full of pages of writing draped over his shoulder.

“Nothing at all,” you replied, glad for another presence. “Come on in. Nibs was just being lecherous, as per usual.”

“You know it,” Daveed grinned, shrugging shamelessly.

“Why am I not surprised?” Lin laughed, setting his stuff down before taking a seat next to you on the couch.

“Hey, don’t you put this all on me. (Y/N)’s the one who won’t take initiative.”

“Oh, sure, ‘take initiative’, is that what you call it now?” You sent Nibs a glare.

“Ah. Are we talking about the sensitive subject of Pan’s softening towards our newest member?” Lin added.

“See? See? Slightly sees it too!”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” You gave a groan and fell sideways, head landing in Lin’s lap. He chuckled, reaching down to ruffle your hair.

“What? Trouble in paradise?”

“Lin, there is no paradise. Jesus, you guys just don’t get it.” You pouted.

Lin’s hands had began to smooth over your hair gently, not unlike a caring sibling would to quell your stressing fears. “(Y/N), reading poetry with Pan is pretty much as intimate as anyone has ever gotten with him. Ever.”

“Can we please talk about something else?” You groaned, about to huff but soothed by Lin’s touch against your hair.

“Sure. How about the fact that Slightly’s hair makes him look like one of the founding fathers?” Daveed grinned.

Wordlessly, Lin reached for a pillow and whipped it at him as you laughed, unable to stop your giggles.

“Fuck you, man. I like it long.”

“Totally. John Adams could only wish.”

Lin flipped him off with a huff. “Shut up. Besides, if I was any one of the founding fathers, it would be Washington, the guy was a badass. Do you guys have any idea what he-“

“No, we don’t, and we don’t want to.” Nibs interrupted, rolling his eyes.

As you giggled, Lin’s hand still tugging through your hair, a movement out of the corner of your eye pulled your attention.

Anthony swept through the door, a grin already in place on his mouth but it faltered as he caught sight of you, mid-laugh, looking quite comfortable on Slightly’s lap. What made it worse was that Lin had clearly made no attempt to curb that behavior and the sight of his hands brushing gently through your hair made Pan’s hands tighten into fists.

“Anthony, yo, what’s up man?” Daveed stood to reach out for a one-armed hug as a greeting. Pan went along with it half-heartedly.

“I…” he started, taking a breath before straightening. “I was just dropping by, wanted to see who was here. I should go.”

You frowned, sitting up from Lin’s lap as you fixed him with a curious look. “Why don’t you stay?”

“I’m just not feeling up to it, okay?” He threw back, a bit of bitterness leaking into his tone. You startled back, hurt and confused.

Daveed quirked an eyebrow, looking between Pan and you. “Oh…kay. Huh. Alright, well, see you around Anthony.”

Before Nibs could even finish his farewell, the screen door rattled closed and the room fell silent.

“What the hell was that all about?” You huffed.

“Oh, honey…” Daveed simpered, shaking his head. “You really don’t know?”

Lin sent you a sheepish smile. “I think he’s jealous. Sorry, I didn’t mean to make anything weird.”

“No, no it’s fine.” You breathed out, reassuring him with a half-hearted smile. “I should go explain.”

“Yeah, you should. Kiss him while you’re at it too, huh?” Daveed laughed.

You sent him a goodbye in the form of an affectionate middle finger before stepping out of the projection room, taking a breath of Neverland air that always seemed to be tinged with a sort of un-placeable sweetness.

Ahead you saw Anthony’s receding back, just about to enter the path that lead back to the highway. His pace was quick and you needed to jog to catch up but that started to become pointless too, so you called out.

“Anthony!” He didn’t turn at the sound of your voice but he did stop and that gave you enough time to make your way to his side. “Why did you leave like that? Is something wrong?”

The concern in your voice seemed to pull the tension from his shoulders and he deflated, looking down at the ground. “Just tell me one thing.”

“Anything.”

“Did you read poetry with Slightly too?”

So he was jealous. A small smile turned the corners of your mouth up and you reached out to brush your hand against his, just barely, pinky against pinky.

“No. No, I would never. What you saw back there was just friendliness. Nothing more.”

He took another breath then finally met your eyes and the relief that you found in his gaze both delighted and terrified you. Attachment could not be far behind and your heart quivered at the thought.

“Good.” He grinned. “Come on, I have something I wanted to show you, it’s what I came here to do.”

He reached and grasped your hand in his, a motion that seemed hauntingly familiar. It tingled an electric current through all your nerves, every limb of yours feeling a jolt of something you had never felt before. You followed happily, a part of you feeling terrifyingly satisfied with going with him anywhere he wished.

“Where are we going?” You questioned, eyebrow raised.

“It’s a surprise.” He shrugged, focusing forwards after a vague reply.

“Anthony, last time you showed me a surprise was-“

“Was when I showed you Neverland. And how did that work out?” He turned to you, raising an expectant eyebrow as a triumphant grin spread across his face.

“Okay, okay.” You resigned, pretending to grumble as a wave of curiosity and excitement rattled your stomach.

He took you down a path you had never seen before and the lack of familiarity delighted you. It was like taking a final plunge off a cliff’s edge or willingly throwing yourself into a dark room that you had no idea how to escape from. The possibilities became endless and soon there was nothing to concern yourself with other than Anthony’s presence and the forest around you. It wasn’t a long way to travel and after fifteen minutes of throwing banter back and forth, complete with a few Neruda references, you arrived at the mouth of a clearing. The grass seemed to thrive better in this area, becoming a healthier, deeper green. The trees seemed to take delight in the clear magic in the area, their branches reaching taller than any of the other pines in Neverland. Birds sang sweeter, the air was charged with a peacefulness that seemed to be balanced perfectly. Right in the centre of the clearing stood a huge stump, much too big for you and Anthony to wrap your arms around, even at full wingspan. It would have been a regular sight if it weren’t for the unmistakable glow that seemed to flow from every crevice and crack of the stump. Something inside was shining brightly and you weren’t exactly sure how the hell it could work but being a Lost Boy led you to leave logic far, far behind.

“I call this place Fairy Hollow,” Anthony smiled, voice returning to a shy softness.

“I can see why.” You sent him a smile, glancing to his face then back to the enchanting light that seemed to touch every surface in the clearing.

“Sometimes,” he whispered, eyes trained on you as if he couldn’t get them away. “You can hear music, if you listen really closely. It’s quiet.”

You nodded, following his advice immediately and nearly cutting off your own breath to keep the silence that suspended the clearing in a perfect sort of cradle. Frozen, the both of you waited with baited breath, not daring to speak a word. The only movement that could be visibly seen was the slow circles he traced into the back of your hand, your fingers still inevitably splayed into his.

You waited for a long time. Almost too long and you were considering giving up your temporary vow when suddenly you heard the first chords ring out, clear as day but whispered as if it the music was brought upon the wings of pixies. It was like the sound that came from music boxes with dancing ballerinas, or elegant carousels. The sound of a harp joined in. You turned to him, wonder glistening in your eyes and you found the exact same childish excitement in his gaze. Your grip tightened on his hand.

A string section seemed to join in and soon an entire symphony of melody was streaming from between the bark of what had just been an ordinary stump, the remainder of a tree. A choir started to sing and you didn’t wait to question such a phenomenon. It was only then that Anthony dared move again. He raised your clasped hands and stepped forward, his hand going to rest lightly on your waist. You, in turn, reached out and placed a cautious hand on his shoulder and soon enough he took a step back, leading you further into the clearing.

He bowed; you curtsied, unable to push away a smile. His hand reached out and you slid your palm into his, the warm of his touch creating a fire in your nerves. A smile from him reassured you that no previous experience was necessary. He stepped back, leading you and soon enough, you were engage in an airy waltz that felt like flying. Every step of his was planned out perfectly and with him leading you, nothing could go wrong. Each move was meaningful and as the music hit a crescendo he lifted you up, twirled you around with his eyes never leaving yours. Slowly, he set you down and you froze there, caught up endlessly in the way he looked at you, God he did that well. The clearing settled. The music faded.

“Anthony?” You could hardly dare to bring your voice above a whisper.

“Yes?” He grinned back.

“Tell me,” you breathed. “What-What are we doing?”

He paused, cocking an eyebrow before looking down, remembering the way you had stepped, perfectly in time, at his side. “Flying.”

“No, I…I mean you and I.”

His face clouded over as you said that. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t even know myself,” you whispered, reaching out tentatively to brush a fingertip across his cheekbone. “But I think that if I were to tell you I love-“

“Love?” He spat the word, pulling away from you within a moment. Too soon, did he leave your arms, pulling with him the delightful warmth you had felt just moments ago. You froze, a rolling wave of hurt attacking your chest as you waited for his next words.

“I have never heard of it.” All at once, he had closed himself off. You were now dealing with Pan.

“I think you have, Anthony,” you pleaded, desperate for just a second longer of that sweet boy’s presence, the truth behind an enigma. “Perhaps for someone long ago, someone you felt for-“

“You don’t understand, (Y/N).” A tone of desperation leaked through the coldness of his voice. “Everyone leaves.”

Your heart gave a great ache. He had been hurt, and bad. “It doesn’t have to be that way. There is more than just-“

“More than just what? I showed you Neverland, I made you a Lost Boy, I took you on adventures. What more is there?” He stepped forward, despairing, pleading for an answer.

“You’re just a boy,” you whispered, realization washing over you. He was still so young.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Anthony’s hands closed into fists, searching your eyes again but finding nothing.

“Anthony, I think…I think we need to grow up.” Even as you said the words they drilled holes in your heart. If only everything was as simple and innocent and magical as Anthony saw it.

“No,” he shook his head, creating further distance between the two of you. “No, you cannot make me.”

You plead with him silently, reaching out only to fall short as he flinched away. Slowly, your hands dropped and resignation fell like a rock into the pit of your stomach.

He stepped forward, gaze vulnerably soft for just a moment. “I want always to be a boy, and have fun.”

You closed your eyes and in a second saw so many possibilities: the adventures, the flying, and every bit of the world under the pad of your thumb. It was painful to watch.

“Then I can’t,” you shook your head, stepping toward the pathway. “I can’t be here.”

“Fine,” he threw back, arms crossed. “Leave, (Y/N), just like how everyone else does. You know what, while you’re at it, don’t bother coming back.”

You turned around, eyes bright with fury. “I will not be banished.” The statement took him by surprise but you ventured further. “Do whatever the hell you want with your Lost Boys, but there is a piece of Neverland that, whether you like it or not, belongs to me. You cannot keep me away from it.”

“Like hell I can’t. If you think-“ He was interrupted by Slightly’s voice.

“Pan!” His tone was despairing, searching. Something was wrong. Immediately, it took priority and your argument was left behind. “Pan!”

“What is it, Slightly?” Anthony replied, not even bothering to turn to his friend, fists clenched at his sides.

“Hook is here.” Lin was pale, out of breath and rattled. “He wants a fight.”

“How many of them?” Anthony asked, turning to face his comrade now.

“All of them. Pan, every single Pirate in town is here.” Slightly’s tone dipped with importance. “I think they want Neverland.”

#ok anyway i suck but i hope you like this #i took so many quotes from the movie holy shit but i love that scene #anthony ramos x reader #anthony ramos imagine #hamilcast imagine #king of the lost boys #kotlb

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derekswhore · 5 years ago

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RUSSIAN ROULETTE: CHAPTER ONE

kick-off chapter here

original episode.

"Last night, a team of two criminals was identified," Hotch said, "we originally profiled him as a couple, but we've recently learned that they're twins. Kitanna and Aleksander Egorova, originally Andreyev."

"They were caught on tape leaving a bar last night, and then a dead body was found in there only minutes after they left," JJ said.

"They work so well together everyone assumes that they're a couple," Cora said.

"Typically, siblings tend to argue over everything, especially if they've committed a crime like murder," Spencer spoke up, "but they don't. So everyone assumes that they're either friends or a couple, but didn't think of them as twins."

"What do we know about them already?" Maribelle asked.

"Uh— they were born in far eastern Russia, and into a very wealthy community in Nakhodka," Hotch said, "a fire on their birthday, February 14th when they were about seven, burned their entire family mansion and killed all of their family."

"They had eight other siblings, plus their parents, so in all, that was twelve people living there," JJ said, "they were almost never seen or heard from again after the fire."

"Except, they've been doing this since they were young," Elle said, "the original profile says that they've been doing work like this since a young age."

Hotch sighed. "That's where this case get's extremely morbid. They've been working for the Russian government as assassins and spies," he said, "they've been training since seven and going on missions since fourteen."

"They're wanted for murder, arson, kidnapping, torture, and espionage in almost every country that's not affiliated with Russia and controlled under it's government," JJ said.

"These kids have been used as weapons all most their entire life," Derek said.

"But they're adults now—" Cora started.

"They can't be more than what, 25? 26?" Derek asked.

"Then why not leave?" Cora asked.

"Their government still has leverage about something over them," Jason said, shaking his head, "they won't leave because they can't."

" do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment. " — gautama buddha

Maribelle sighed as she looked at the list of aliases Kit and Aleksander had used overtime. Samantha Windsley.

Maribelle looked up immediately. "That bitch," she whispered.

"What?" Cora asked, turning to her.

"When I first joined... Kit and Aleksander came to me for help," Maribelle sighed, "they said Kit had poisoned Russia's leader and that they needed to get away. I gave them the aliases Samantha Windsley and Connor Lucas. Those are aliases I gave to them so the Russian government didn't track them down."

"You helped two of the most wanted criminals in the world and didn't tell anyone?" Derek asked.

"Y-yeah," Maribelle said softly, looking down, "it was wrong, but—"

"But nothing!" Derek yelled.

"That's enough," Jason interrupted quickly.

"She shouldn't be working this case. There's a personal connection," Hotch said.

"Actually, it'd be beneficial if she were working this case," Cora spoke up.

Maribelle nodded. "I met the twins in my early CIA days. I know them and they know me. It'll help," she said.

Hotch glanced at Jason, who nodded. "All right. We'll see how it goes."

To put it simply, Kitanna Egorova was quite pissed off. Not only at her brother Aleksander, but at her boss and friend, Liv, as well.

A last minute mission. Were they crazy? If something went wrong, Kit and Aleksander were screwed. They weren't prepared. They hadn't trained at all before the mission had happened.

"Got anything, Liv?" Aleksander asked.

Olivia Latimoff was quite possibly the best tech genius you'd ever meet. Her skills, so far, remained unmatched by anyone Kit and Aleksander ever met. "Not yet," Liv replied, biting at her lip gently, "wait. Wait, wait, wait... Oh, never mind, they're only passing by."

"Who?" Kit asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

"The cops," Liv replied, "fuck, wait. Guys they're not just passing! It's the cops! They're searching the place!"

Kit panicked and glanced at Aleksander. They heard the warehouse doors open, causing them both to pull their guns. "Higher ground," Kit said quietly, "they won't see it coming." Aleksander nodded and lifted up his sister, Kit pulling herself up quickly and quietly. Aleksander lifted himself up, aiming his gun at one of the two officers that entered the building.

He fired, the bullet hitting his head. Almost right between the eyes, leaning towards the right. "Bet I could do better," Kit whispered, aiming her gun at the other officer's head. She fired, the bullet hitting him right between the eyes, "bullseye."

"Bitch," Aleksander scoffed, climbing down.

Kit smirked. "We got any thing to burn the Five-O?" She asked. Aleksander pulled a box of matches, "might not be enough, Alek."

"We can try, Kitty," Aleksander said. Kit rolled her eyes as Aleksander lit two matches, throwing them on the officer's bodies.

"Let's get out of here, we still have that strip club to hit," Kit said, walking out of the warehouse.

Aleksander followed quickly. "Yes, ma'am."

Maribelle sighed as she looked at the board. She bit her lip. "Guys," Derek said as he walked into the room, "two police officers were just found dead and burning at a warehouse."

"The warehouse was a hiding place to extremely important government documents," Cora said, "we checked security cameras, they said they needed to hit a strip club. There's four in the immediate area, so Spencer and Derek will go to one, Mari and me to another, Jason and Elle to one, and then Hotch by himself."

Everyone nodded. "We'll leave when the club opens. No drinking, keep badges and guns hidden," Hotch said, "I'll allow smoking if it helps you fit in. Just no drugs."

Derek glanced around the club. "I don't see her," Spencer said quietly.

"She probably fits right in," Derek replied, "or she's giving someone a lap dance in private." Spencer gave him a look, "you do know what a lap dance is, right?"

"Yes, I know what a lap dance is, Morgan," Spencer scoffed.

"Doubt that," Derek said quietly, causing Spencer to shoot him an offended look.

"Wait, look," Spencer said, hitting Derek's arm gently before nodding towards a group of people.

Kit was sat on a man's lap, Aleksander sitting across from her. Everyone in the group was drinking, smoking, or using some sort of drug.

"You stay and order a drink, pretty boy, I don't need you choking on cigarette smoke," Derek said, starting to walk over. Spencer opened his mouth to say something before sighing.

Once Derek had walked over, Kit looked up at him with a small smile. The man who's lap Kit was sitting on glanced at Derek before looking back at Kit. His phone went off. "I gotta go, doll, excuse me," he said. Kit stood up and backed up a bit, the man leaving.

Kit looked at Derek and bit her lip. Derek walked over and sat down, Kit sitting on his lap with a small smirk. Derek took a deep breath, placing a hand on Kit's waist gently.

Kit glanced at Aleksander, who shook his head. Kit raised her eyebrows before putting her cigarette out, turning to connect her lips to Derek's. Aleksander sighed and rolled his eyes, taking a hit of the blunt that was being passed around.

Derek deepened the kiss slightly, his grip on Kit's waist getting tighter. Kit smirked slightly as Aleksander's phone went off. He handed the blunt to some random chick next to him, standing up and starting to walk away. Kit pulled away from the kiss with Derek and got off his lap, following Aleksander quickly.

Aleksander and Kit turned the corner, Aleksander immediately stopping and looking at Kit. "You really can't help yourself, can you?" He asked.

Kit smirked, tilting her head slightly. "You've been getting high the entire night. I've been making out with random men and women. Call it even," she said. Aleksander pushed her against the wall, the back of her head hitting it, "ah! Ow!"

"Have a little self control next time," Aleksander said, before walking away.

"The weeds really getting to you now, huh?" Kit asked.

"Shut it." The two walked outside, spotting a ladder that leaded to the roof of the building.

The club had an upstairs 'VIP' section, so there was a staircase leading to the roof. The man who they were to kill stood up there patiently.

"You're the two best people Vladimir sent?" He asked. Irish. Noted, Kit thought.

"Is your reaction because I'm a girl or because we look like children?" Kit asked. Aleksander hit her arm gently, "what?!"

"We'll go with both," the Irish man replied. Kit rolled her eyes.

"Look, I just want to know if you got the weapons," Kit said, taking a step closer

"I do. But I won't deal with the girl here."

Any second now... Kit thought to herself, biting her lip. She glanced at Aleksander and he nodded. "Fine then," she said, pulling her gun. She shot the Irish man in the head twice.

"FBI, drop your weapon," Derek said. Spencer and Derek were now on the roof, Spencer having his gun aimed at Kit and Derek's at Aleksander. The two froze and Kit dropped her gun.

Spencer walked over, his gun still raised. Once he was close enough, Kit pulled a stun gun and stun gunned Spencer in the neck. He was down for a minute. Kit grabbed his gun and pointed it at him, Aleksander pointing his at Derek.

"Let us go and maybe I won't shoot the pretty agent," Kit said with a small smirk.

"In your dreams, Egorova," Derek replied. Kit sighed.

"You know, the more I look at his pretty face, the more I'm gonna regret it if I kill him," Kit hummed.

"Then don't," Derek said. Kit bit her lip.

"I have to," she said softly. Derek shook his head.

"You don't," he said, "I promise you, you do not have to kill him. Drop the gun and come with us." Kit sighed and tossed the gun, putting her hands up as Aleksander did the same. Derek walked over slowly, grabbing a pair of handcuffs. He began to cuff hit and she immediately spun around, kneeing him in the groin.

Aleksander ran over, wrapping his arm around Derek's neck. "We're 27 and already overpowering FBI agents," Kit smirked as Derek began to lose consciousness, "I'd say that's a pretty good win."

"Wait, wait, wait," Maribelle said, "you played lip guitar with Kit and then she stun gunned Spencer in the neck, then her brother choked you out?"

"Weak," Cora snorted.

"Oh, and what did you two do at the club?" Derek asked.

Cora and Maribelle glanced at each other with small smirks. "One got laid, one got high, we'll let you figure it out yourself," Maribelle said.

Derek's mouth went agape. "Cora said she wanted to stay a virgin until she got married—" Spencer started.

Elle snorted. "Ha. That's funny. Cora? A virgin? Nope," she smirked.

"Place your bets now. Cora got laid and Maribelle got high," Derek laughed.

"Guys," Hotch said, turning on a TV that was in the conference room. On the news was a raging fire at a government building, with pictures of Kit and Aleksander on the side.

"Who leaked the profile?!" JJ asked.

"Who knows," Maribelle scoffed, "plenty of cops that want them caught."

"But we specifically said not to release the profile to anyone. That it was premature," Cora said.

"Cops talk. Pissed off cops talk loud," Maribelle and Derek said.

Jason walked into the room. "There's talk of them at a warehouse. A hideout," he said.

Everyone looked at him and nodded. "Let's get going," Hotch said.

"So now what? We wait?" Kit asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Yup," Aleksander replied, turning to face Kit, "spar with me."

"Absolutely not," Kit said, "those agents could enter at any moment. If we spar, they will catch us."

"Fine," Aleksander scoffed, crossing his arms, "spread out."

"What? Why?" Kit asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

"They're used to us being together. Besides, more firing from different locations," Aleksander said. Kit nodded and sighed.

The twins heard the door open as they began to walk away. They both pulled their guns and turned around, pointing them at the FBI agents that had ran in.

"Kitanna and Aleksander Egorova, drop your weapons and put your hands on your head," Derek said.

"Well hey there, hot stuff, nice to see you again," Kit smirked, "and of course pretty boy."

"Drop your weapons," Derek said. Kit glanced at Aleksander and nodded, placing her gun on the ground. Derek walked over, grabbing a pair of handcuffs and cuffing Kit quickly, Hotch doing the same to Aleksander.

Derek caught sight of the A. 550 on the back of her neck and froze.

They branded the poor kids.

Kit sat in the interrogation room, tapping her fingers on the table as she bounced her knee up and down. The door opened and Derek and Spencer walked into the room. Kit jumped and looked at them, biting her lip.

"They branded you," Spencer said, placing the file down, "what else have they done to you?"

"You want it in exact detail or just a vague explanation?" Kit asked, raising her eyebrows.

"So I assume they've done a lot to you?"

"Yeah," Kit nodded, "they did."

Spencer nodded. "Agent Hotchner has talked with the US government about letting you and your brother stay under immunity," he said, "if you break immunity—"

"I know, I know," Kit said, "I get thrown in prison... Or I get deported. One of the two."

Spencer nodded. "Good to know you know your rights," he said.

Kit almost let a smile slip. "I'm not stupid, Dr. Reid," she said, biting her lip again.

"You know, you should stop biting your lip so much. There's a bit of blood," Spencer said as he and Derek got up.

"What're you sitting there for?" Derek asked, "you and your brother are on the jet ride with us."

Kit raised her eyebrows and got up slowly, walking with the two men. "Does it hurt?" Derek asked. Kit looked at him, confused, "the brand."

Kit smirked slightly. "Only when I think about it."

" the love between friends could create life. " — betsy cornwell.

DAI SPEAKS welcome to chapter one y'all !!!

#criminal minds #derek morgan #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #david rossi #jennifer jareau #emily prentss #jason gideon

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quynhchan · 8 years ago

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hay

When Mily Balakïrev composed his oriental fantasy Islamey in 1869, it was declared by many to be unplayable. Still, after its premiere by Nikolai Rubinstein, many tried... Alexander Scriabin even crippled his right hand in a fanatical attempt to master it (meaning we have Balakïrev to thank for Scriabin’s switching to composition). Today, Islamey is standard fare at piano competitions, and concert pianists play it faster, louder and cleaner than ever before. And there are more of them out there – a surfeit of fleet-fingered virtuosi, churned out every year by conservatoriums from Beijing to Belfast. But if everyone can play Islamey, what are the pianistic heights to which musicians must aspire? Clearly, it’s not just a matter of technique. That is why we set out in search of pianists who have set the standard with performances that are not only technically, but also musically, exceptional. Rather than choose our favourites, we asked more than 100 leading pianists to name the pianist who has inspired them most. As the answers flowed in, ten masters of the instrument emerged. But one legendary musician outstripped all others (by a healthy margin). If the piano is the king of instruments, this pianist is the king of kings. But who is he? 10. ARTUR SCHNABEL (1882-1951) Who was he? An Austrian pianist who specialised in core German composers and made the first complete recording of the Beethoven sonatas. What makes him great? A commitment to plumbing the intellectual and spiritual depths of a work, while eschewing displays of technical bravura. Essential recordings BEETHOVEN Piano Sonatas Nos 1-32 (Complete) EMI 7637652 SCHUBERT 4 Impromptus, D899; 4 Impromptus, D935; Allegretto in C minor, D915 EMI 5868332 Jonathan Biss On Schnabel’s living sound “If I was asked which pianist I loved the most, I’d never be able to answer -– too many possibilities! But if it’s a question of who has inspired me, that’s easy: Artur Schnabel. My first exposure to his recordings of the Beethoven Sonatas came in my early teens, and quickly led to an obsession with those works which I expect to last for the rest of my life. I could not understand how he could convey so much meaning – spirituality, even – between two notes, or how he managed to produce from this instrument of keys and hammers a sound which was so buoyant, resistant to gravity, alive. Those two aims – to make a sound that lives, and to find music not only in the notes, but around them – are still primary for me, nearly two decades later. When I went to study with Leon Fleisher, I was touched to hear him speak of Schnabel, his own teacher, with the same kind of awe. Fleisher’s own ideas about music are compelling, and he is matchlessly eloquent in expressing them, but it was often that he would simply tell us what Schnabel had told him about this piece or that, in a tone of voice which suggested that there was no greater authority. I like to think I may have learned something through this lineage, and each and every day I try to bring to my music something of the devotion, understanding and, above all, love, which emanates from every note the man played.” Also chosen by András Schiff, Ronald Brautigam, Garrick Ohlsson… 9. Wilhelm Kempff (1895-1991) Who was he? A German pianist who focused on the greats of German music and played concerts well into his eighties. What makes him great? Rhythmic inventiveness and a talent for bringing out the lyricism, charm and spontaneity in music, particularly in intimate pieces or passages. Essential recordings LISZT From Années de Pèlerinage: Sposalizio; Il penseroso, Canzonetta del Salvator Rosa; Sonetto 47 del Petrarca; Sonetto 104 del Petrarca, Sonetto 123 del Petrarca. Gondoliera, S162 No 1 (from Venezia e Napoli). Two Legendes for piano, S175 DG 4779374 BEETHOVEN Piano Sonatas Nos 8 in C minor, Op 13 Pathétique; 14 in C sharp minor, Op 27 No 2 Moonlight; 21 in C major, Op 53 Waldstein; 23 in F minor, Op 57 Appassionata DG 4474042 Cyprien Latsaris On Kempff in concert “I first heard Kempff live in Paris when I was about 13 years old and then I bought some Beethoven and Brahms recordings of his. He did not have the greatest pianistic technique, but he was very special. He created some sublime, divine musical moments that transported us towards the heavens. I am sure he would have been just as successful in concert today, because the most important factor for a musician is to have a very special personality, and he had that characteristic. He has also influenced what I do at the piano by getting me to put myself in a second state, a spiritual state, before playing. There are so many recordings of his that I treasure, as Kempff excels in Beethoven, Brahms, Schumann, Schubert and Bach. But, in particular, I would name the Klavierstücke of Brahms, the Beethoven middle sonatas and Concertos Nos 2 & 4, the Bach transcriptions, and the Schubert Klavierstücke.” Also chosen by Michael Endres, David Fray, Eldar Nebolsin 8. Alfred Brendel (born 1931) Who is he? An Austrian pianist and teacher now based in London, who has recorded four complete sets of the Beethoven sonatas. What makes him great? Rigorous adherence to the score without ever sounding dry or academic, and a knack for finding unexpected moments of humour, particularly in Classical repertoire. Essential recordings BEETHOVEN The Five Piano Concertos Vienna Philharmonic/Rattle Philips 4627812 SCHUBERT Complete impromptus Philips 4560612 Paul Lewis On studying with Brendel “I had lessons with Alfred Brendel in the 1990s, and he has been a great inspiration. He would talk about music and I would think, “Yeah, that really makes sense”. And then he would sit down and demonstrate things, and that’s when the light bulb really went off. The first time I met him was when I was 20 at the Guildhall School of Music. I remember feeling very nervous and intimidated. Seeing the silhouette of the glasses and the hair coming through the hall, I remember thinking, ‘Oh my god, it’s him!’ I played a Haydn sonata for him and it was clear from the very start that he was interested only in the music. That’s all that matters. You may feel worried about yourself but that’s not the important thing because he’s not the least bit worried about anything but what you’re playing. That tallied with the impression I’d had of him before I met him, from his concerts and recordings – that of an incredibly serious-minded musician. It was a great inspiration and privilege to work with him over those years.” Also chosen by Steven Osborne, Imogen Cooper, Till Fellner… 7. Glenn Gould (1932-1982) Who was he? A highly eccentric Canadian pianist who, after a stellar concert career, shunned the stage at the age of 31 to focus on recordings and experimental projects. What makes him great? A prodigious ability to sculpt the multiple lines of polyphonic music, such as Bach’s, with unsurpassed clarity. And a seeming incapacity for technical error. Essential recordings BACH Goldberg Variations, BWV988 (1981 recording) Sony 88697148532 BACH The Well-Tempered Clavier, Books 1 and 2 Sony SM2K52600, Sony SM2K52603 BACH, MOZART, SWEELINCK Schoenberg Salzburg Recital (1959) Sony SMK53474 Pascal Rogé On Gould the recreator “I first heard Gould play rather late, since in my youth at the Paris Conservatory he was completely unknown. None of my colleagues or teachers ever mentioned his name – until in 1966 I met Bruno Monsaingeon, who revealed Gould to me and the French audience through his marvellous documentaries. It is hard to say what makes Gould’s playing so special, since everything in his playing is special. One can mention the touch, the phrasing, the articulation… But most important is the conception, the architecture, the personal and ‘creative’ approach to every single piece he plays. He is a creator, much more than an interpreter: each time you hear a piece played by Gould, you discover the piece for the first time. I always refer to his line: ‘If you are not convinced you can play a piece in a completely new and unique way, don’t play it.’ It’s an extreme affirmation, but so full of truth! A case in point is his two recordings of the Goldberg Variations, an example of Gould’s genius in even being able to ‘re-create’ himself. They are both masterpieces, and his legacy for all musicians of the world. I am always blown away when pianists dare play (or even touch) this piece after Gould. Are they totally unconscious or utterly pretentious? In Bach he is completely unmatched. In fact, I am unable to hear, accept or conceive any other interpretation of Bach than his. I’d like to say he has been an influence on me, but no one is deranged enough to try and imitate Gould’s playing! Still, I remember when I recorded for French TV the complete First Book of Bach’s Well-Tempered Clavier. It was a project conceived for him by Monsaingeon, but Gould died before he could film it… And I was the one chosen to ‘replace’ him. Can you imagine the pressure? I think the legacy of Gould for any artist is ‘the freedom of creation’ towards any composer, but at the same time respecting the logic of the music and the spirit of the composer – a very challenging equation!” Also chosen by Vladimir Ashkenazy, Fazil Say, Jean-Efflam Bavouzet 6. Alfred Cortot (1877-1962) Who was he? A French pianist and professor at the Conservatoire de Paris. He was called a “poet of the piano” for his mastery of the lyrical works of Chopin, Schumann and Debussy, producing landmark recordings, and meticulous editions, of their music. What makes him great? A highly personal, subjective style that favours intuition and feeling over precise technique, resulting in performances of lush, transcendent musicality. Essential recordings CHOPIN 24 Preludes, Op 28; Prelude Op 45 in C sharp minor No 25; Prelude Op 28 No 15 in D flat major Raindrop; Berceuse in D flat major, Op 57; Tarantella in A flat major, Op 43; Impromptus Nos 1-4 EMI 3615412 CHOPIN, SCHUMANN Chopin: Piano Sonata No 2 in B flat minor, Op 35 Marche funèbre; Schumann: Kinderszenen, Op 15; The Prophet Bird Op 82 No 7; Carnaval Op 9 Naxos Historical Great Pianists 8.111327 FRANCK, RAVEL, SAINT-SAËNS Franck: Symphonic Variations for Piano & Orchestra, M46; Ravel: Piano Concerto in D major (for the left hand); Saint-Saëns: Piano Concerto No 4 in C minor, Op 44; Étude en forme de valse, Op 52 No 6 Naxos Historical Great Pianists 8110613 Stephen Hough On Cortot’s individuality “Cortot is sometimes remembered as the pianist who played lots of wrong notes. This is unfair – not just because he had a dazzling finger technique, but because he never allowed striving for accuracy to distract him from the bigger picture. His mistakes can sometimes be heard even in the first notes of pieces, but I find these fallible moments endearing: the pianist is consumed by spiritual inspiration and oblivious of the physical risks involved. Cortot was a great virtuoso, conscious of the power to excite and thrill that Romantic piano music has, but you never feel manipulated in his musical company. You feel that even his most extravagant interpretative choices come from complete inner honesty; he is not sitting in a spotlight forcing you to look at him, but rather holding a torch, leading you forward to enlightenment. I never tire of hearing his recordings, particularly those of Chopin and Schumann from the 1920s and ’30s. His combination of utter interpretative freedom (sometimes with a touch of eccentricity) and penetrating insight into the composer’s wishes is unique, in my view. There are artists who delight listeners with their wild and daring individuality, and there are others who uncover the written score for us with insight and reverence – but there are few who can do both. Cortot had a vision which saw beyond the academic or the theatrical to some wider horizon of creativity from whence the composers themselves might well have drawn inspiration.” Also chosen by Alfred Brendel, Benjamin Grosvenor, Stanislav Ioudenitch… Copyright Guardian News & Media Ltd 201 5. Emil Gilels (1916-1985) Who was he? An Odessa-born pianist who moved to Moscow in 1935, becoming, along with Richter, the leading Soviet pianist of his day. He and violinist David Oistrakh were among the first Soviet musicians allowed to concertise in the West. What makes him great? His “golden” sound – an ability to execute the most taxing passages without compromising his burnished tone or depth of feeling. Essential recordings BRAHMS Piano Concerto No 1 in D minor, Op 15; Piano Concerto No 2 in B flat major, Op 83; Fantasies (7 piano pieces), Op 116 Berliner Philharmoniker/Jochum DG Originals 4474462 LISZT, SCHUBERT Piano Sonata in B minor, S178; Piano Sonata No 17 in D major, D850 Sony 88697858242 BEETHOVEN Piano Sonata No 28 in A major, Op 101; Piano Sonata No 29 in B flat major, Op 106 Hammerklavier DG Originals 4636392 Cédric Tiberghie On the grandeur of Gilels “Gilels has this mixture of fantastic tone quality and an ability to make everything seem simple when you listen to him. Even when he plays a simple Bach prelude, or the Bach-Siloti Prelude in B minor, you think it’s simple to play, but then you buy the music and you’re like, ‘Oh my god, this is impossible!’ I first heard Gilels when I was eight or nine – his recording of the Brahms Second Concerto with the Berlin Philharmonic. I wasn’t aware it was Gilels – or even a Brahms concerto – just one of my dad’s huge collection of cassette tapes. But it was my favourite music, and still today I think it’s one of the most beautiful recordings ever made of a piano concerto. The quality of tone and line, the inspiration and the beauty of the sound – everything is so perfect. It’s actually quite intimidating when you have to play the concerto yourself. He plays the first movement so slowly, and you think, OK, I’m going to do the same – which is a big mistake because he’s Gilels and you’re not. You need that golden sound Gilels possessed – more than anyone in history – as well as a clear idea of the structure and direction; and for this you need a lifetime of experience. Also, if I compare my hand to his, his was probably twice as heavy as mine. It’s like Oistrakh on the violin, there’s that question of flesh, pure matter creating the sound. If you have extremely thin hands, the quality of tone will probably be clearer than Gilels’. So I don’t try to imitate an artist like him, but I try to keep in my head the grandeur of what he does. It’s something I always try to find, not artificially, but perhaps just to feel. So he’s a model for me in that respect.” Also chosen by Alice Sara Ott, Olli Mustonen, Lars Vogt… 4. Arthur Rubinstein (1887-1982) Who was he? A Polish pianist who left Europe after WWI, settling in the US. What makes him great? His interpretations of the music of Chopin, to which he brought a glowing tone and endless variety of phrasing. Essential recordings CHOPIN Nocturnes Nos 1-19 Sony 88697690412 LIVE AT MOSCOW GREAT HALL DVD Medici Arts 3078548 CHOPIN, BRAHMS Chopin: Piano Concerto No 2 in F minor, B43 Op 21; Brahms: Piano Concerto No 2 in B flat major, Op 83 Altara 1021 Roger Woodward on sharing the legacy of Rubinstein “When I was studying at the Chopin National Academy in Warsaw, our class sometimes met Professor Drzewiecki’s illustrious friends, one of whom was Arthur Rubinstein. He played for us and some students had the privilege of playing for him. Everybody in the class knew his recordings, as they were the classical Chopin interpretations that Drzewiecki had taught us. Grace, poise and thorough research were the hallmarks of his art, one that showed mastery but also enormous modesty and, contrary to what some ‘authorities’ had to say, a flawless technique. Rubinstein’s critics, and there were many, tended to forget how thorough he was in researching the repertoire he played. Where others posed and only pretended they had researched their subject, Rubinstein’s performances reeked of integrity. The earliest of Rubinstein’s three complete Mazurka recordings provided a high point for us in our study of Chopin, although for me it was his performances of the Nocturnes that provided the key to all other Chopin. I remain eternally grateful to Rubinstein for his recordings and what he had to say about them. Rubinstein was not blessed with the sheer virtuosity of Rachmaninov or Horowitz, but he developed a mastery of legato cantabile and tempo rubato second to none. This is evident in such miraculous pre-war ‘live’ performances as his historic recording of the Chopin Piano Concertos with Sir John Barbirolli, although his performances of the same with Witold Rowicki were even more beautiful – completely unforgettable. I will never forget his kindness and generosity to our class, and his charm, modesty and scrupulous research. Although I remain a student all my life and continue to listen to his many wonderful recordings, I consider myself fortunate to share such rich experiences with my own students.” Also chosen by Simon Trpceski, Jayson Gillham, Margaret Fingerhut 3. Sviatoslav Richter (1915-1997) Who was he? A Russian pianist of German descent who became the USSR’s pre-eminent musician. What makes him great? Rock-solid technique combined with an astonishing variety of sound. Essential recordings THE SOFIA RECITAL Philips 464734 REDISCOVERED: CARNEGIE HALL RECITAL RCA Red Seal 09026 63844-2 PROKOFIEV Piano Sonata No 2 & 9; Visions fugitives Nos 6, 18 Melodiya MELCD1001677 Barry Douglas On the intensity of Richter “I heard Richter play many times in England, France and America and what I loved about him was that he was able to make the piano sound not like a piano – it sounded like an orchestra or sometimes like a choir. Also, anything he did at the instrument always seemed totally right. It didn’t seem like his ideas; it seemed like the only way to do it. Every artist should aim, if they’re serious, to remove themselves from the equation and go to the heart or the essence of the music. Very few artists can do that, but for Richter it was totally natural. He was also a very serious musician: after concerts he’d often decide he needed to practise, and would go home and practise for another two hours. He also insisted that each recital program contain at least one new piece. So his repertoire was vast. I don’t think his studio recordings were that successful: they didn’t really represent him. It’s the live recordings which are amazing. Everyone talks about the Sofia recital from 1958 where he plays Liszt’s Feux Follets and Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition. Still, his recordings of the Beethoven sonatas are also second-to-none, not to mention the Russian repertoire – the little pieces of Tchaikovsky – and Prokofiev, who wrote his Seventh Sonata for him. When I was at the Tchaikovsky Competition in 1984 he sent messages to me through others saying how fantastic he thought I was, which was very sweet. I wish I’d had a chance to get to know him better. I will always look up to Richter. A performing artist mustn’t copy, but you can be inspired by the essence of what someone stood for, and that’s what I do with him. I know very deep inside myself I’m trying to grasp what Richter had, which is an amazing, fiery, burning intensity of passion for music – that’s what came across when he played. He was absolutely obsessed, and possessed, by music.” Also chosen by: Howard Shelley, Anna Goldsworthy, Piotr Anderszewski... 2. Vladimir Horowitz (1903-1989) Who was he? A Russian-born pianist who left for the West at age 21, where he was described as a “tornado unleashed from the steppes”. Most famous for his performances of Romantic piano repertoire and, surprisingly, Scarlatti, he returned to Russia for a triumphant farewell recital in 1986. What makes him great? Sparkling virtuosity and extraordinary use of tone colour, combined with a talent for thrilling his audience, creating a furore at his live recitals. Essential recordings SCARLATTI Horowitz plays Scarlatti Sony 88697806402 LISZT, CHOPIN, SCHUMANN The London recordings 1932-1936 Archipel Records ARPCD0246 HOROWITZ IN MOSCOW DVD Sony SVD64545 Ingolf Wunder On the god-like gifts of Horowitz “Horowitz combined high-class pianism with a unique taste in music and interpretation. What made him unique was his ability to chisel his feelings and moods out of the structures and harmonic material of the score. I think I first heard Horowitz when I was 14. I was just astonished by his tone and the variety of colours he could produce. And he always played as his hand was built, never betraying his taste and his view of music. He was always himself, and everything he touched became his own. His playing is never mediocre, it either works or it doesn’t. But if it does work, it’s simply god-like – incomparable with anything you’ve ever heard. In a way, Horowitz is the product of a time that produced so many great pianists. I believe the way of thinking and our life has changed since then. Now musicians can go on the Internet and hear almost every recording of any piece; back then they were forced to think for themselves. Small things were given greater importance because it wasn’t possible to go anywhere instantly. It was not necessarily about who can play the fastest or any other competitive aspect, it was more about the music. There are still a few musicians that are like Horowitz and those old greats, and that’s the school we ought to come back to.” Also chosen by: Freddy Kempf, Gerard Willems, Konstantin Scherbakov 1. Sergei Rachmaninov (1873-1943) Who was he? A pianist and composer born in Russia, who graduated from the Moscow Conservatorium in the same class as composer Alexander Scriabin. Among his compositions is the Piano Concerto No 2, often voted the most popular piece of classical music of all time. He left Russia in 1917, embarking on a career as a touring pianist in order to support himself and his family. He became a US citizen shortly before his death. What makes him great? An almost superhumanly clean finger technique, which allowed him to maintain clarity even in the knottiest passages. This was partly due to his famously large hands, able to span 12 inches, or a 13th (C1 to A2) on the piano. He also had a beautifully singing tone, likened to that of violinist Fritz Kreisler, permitting him to wring infinite sweetness from a melody. Essential recordings CHOPIN•SCHUMANN Piano Sonata No 2; Ballade No 3, Carnaval Naxos Historical Great Pianists 8.112020 RACHMANINOV Concertos Nos 1-4; Rhapsody on a theme of Paganini RCA 09026616582 BEETHOVEN, GRIEG, SCHUBERT Violin Sonata No 8 in G major, Op 30 No 3; Violin Sonata No 3 in C minor, Op 45; Grand Duo for Violin and Piano in A Major, D574; Fritz Kreisler v Naxos Historical Great Pianists 8.110968 Leslie Howard on the greatest pianist ever to make a record “What’s remarkable about Rachmaninov’s playing is how honest it is. Nothing gets between his playing and his idea of why the piece of music was worth recording. His playing is never cluttered, it’s never fussy and there’s a complete absence of cheap tricks – quite unusual for the time he was recording. I think he’s the greatest pianist of his age and I’m sure he’s the best pianist who ever made a record. Of course, his technique is extraordinary, but the gift of all good technique is that you’re not aware of it when you’re listening to it. If you hear him play Si oiseau j’étais by Henselt, for instance, it sounds like the most charming salon piece. But if you’ve ever sat down to play it, you’ll know perfectly well it’s an absolute terror. Rachmaninov also has a way of dealing with rhythm which makes him instantly recognisable. Sometimes he does it by playing a rhythm that’s not exactly what’s in the score, but it comes out sounding like what should have been in the score. Take his recording with Fritz Kreisler of the Opus 30 No 3 Sonata of Beethoven, for example. You hear every single note and every single note is as important as every other, which is how Beethoven ought to be played, but seldom is. Being a composer, Rachmaninov also possessed a formidable musical mind. He dissected every piece before he put his hands on the keyboard. And he could do that because his compositional skills were so refined. I sometimes think when he plays his own music he’s less careful – almost as if he doesn’t quite think there should be so much fuss made about him. But when you hear how utterly unsloppy, in the emotional sense, his playing of his own music is, it discourages pianists from wallowing in it, as so many of them do. Then, if you want romantic playing he can do that too, and again I think of one of the recordings with Kreisler of the Grieg Sonata No 3. The second movement is heartrendingly marvellous and the way he plays the tune is completely different from the way Kreisler plays it. It makes the piece sound more eventful than it actually is – it’s a cracker of a recording! There’s a reason why Rachmaninov didn’t record more, and that’s because of the strained relations he had with the people at the Victor Talking Machine Company, who thought he was getting too much money for his recordings, and who turned down many of the things he offered to record. For instance, he was going to give a free recording of Beethoven’s First Piano Concerto, as long as they would let him record his orchestral Symphonic Dances, and they refused the offer. The reason why the recording we do have of him playing his Third Concerto is, to many ears, a bit inadequate is because he had to go back and record the first side again four months later. He put cuts in it at the last moment because the producer Charles Connell gave him grief, saying he couldn’t play the piano and couldn’t compose either. In short he made the whole thing deeply unpleasant for Rachmaninov. So we’ve got this Mr Connell to thank for not having the Liszt Sonata, the Hammerklavier Sonata, the Waldstein Sonata, and the Chopin B minor Sonata. Of the recordings we do have, it’s very difficult to choose a favourite, but I absolutely love his recording of Schumann’s Carnaval. I think that’s perfect piano-playing from start to finish.” Also chosen by Stephen Kovacevich, Denis Matsuev, Alexey Yemtsov... Why are there so Many great Russian Pianists? “From the 19th Century there has been very systematic children’s musical education in Russia, which started back with the foundation of the Moscow Imperial Conservatory. Rachmaninov came to study there at the age of 14. He lived at the home of Nikolai Zverev, who had created a boarding school for young students, who were required to practise six hours per day, apart from their school study. [Other boarders with Zverev were Scriabin and Siloti]. That school transformed into the Central Music School in the Soviet era, and the system expanded throughout the country. Today in Russia there is serious musical education for kids starting from when they’re big enough to reach the keys. Vladimir Ashkenazy, Grigory Sokolov and Mikhail Pletnev are products of this rather strict Soviet school. So children study for seven or eight years at a special music school, then at 15 they go to music college for three years. And that’s all before they enrol in the Conservatorium. So if a kid is talented, by the age of 16 they can play basically everything. That means when Russian students come to the Conservatory, they are already professional pianists. They have almost no technical boundaries to overcome, and can just focus on becoming an artist. So it’s not like just having piano lessons with a teacher – it’s systematic and totally free musical education. Geniuses are born everywhere, but only in Russia are they nurtured in this way.” Elena Kuznetsova Dean of piano, Moscow Conservator - See more at: http://www.limelightmagazine.com.au/features/greatest-10-pianists-all-time#sthash.IghNbRez.dpuf

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