#shady-grades

[mintytealfox]

I not sure why yet, but this exchange is so EFFIN HILARIOUS TO ME LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL

just the

Norton: "my dude, what about me makes you think I enjoy latin, pshhh" Murro: "uhhhh because you zone out and quote it all the time???" Norton: "touche, you got me there"

[makarovspussy]

we can ask for weed money on here? like for real???

[birb-boyo]

I’m doing so good in biology that my teacher wants me to be a scientist and honestly, I love you, but-

[ladytee918]

The last little hellion is off to school. My nephew was too cool for first day of school pic he got dressed and left 😂😂😂😂

[ourbastardofsorrows]

you've heard of the associative and commutative properties of addition and multiplication, now get ready for:

the disassociative property of math, where any and all word problems are so far removed from reality that the concepts behind them are borderline incomprehensible

[fiyaharts]

artist friends. im thinking about switching to krita or clip studio paint (i guess the one time purchase only, idk how important the subscription updates are). does anyone have any input

[coolcoelacanth]

me starting drama in my friend group for no reason (jk theres actually many reasons)

[meiieiri]

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐩 [toji fushiguro]

synopsis: toji will never forget the first night he spent away from the zenin clan and the day he met you.

pairing: toji fushiguro x f!reader | song inspo: saw you in a dream, timeless | hidden inventory: the lost tapes series masterlist

warnings: mentions of emotional abuse but generally pretty much a fluff fic where toji and y/n meet for the first time. | a/n: finally launching my little love project called “hidden inventory: the lost tapes”! 🍒

Now isn’t this just perfect?

Toji’s is just one inconvenience away from just going back to the Zenin clan with his tail between his legs. First, he underestimates just how expensive living in Tokyo is so, with what little pocket money his emotionally distant mother gave him before he left the estate, the first thing he does is spend it all on a girl — in broad daylight — he’s heard his brother, Jinichi, talk about those cute little call girls that crawl the streets of Kabukichō with flyers in their hand for thirty-minute “massages”. Naturally, as a young man who is only first experiencing the carnal joys the city has to offer, Toji was curious and he took the bait.

A bait that cost him ¥30,000 and the girl was unfortunately sloppy at best.

Now, he doesn’t have money to buy so much as a soggy red bean pancake for dinner. He doesn’t know how long he’s been walking around this dingy part of Shinjuku but as long as the red light district’s trashy ambience is distracting him from the growling of his stomach, then, he’ll stumble around this hellhole until morning.

“Ha! You won’t even last two minutes out there!” That’s what Naobito Zenin, the head of the clan said to him when he left. “Only two things await you when you get out of here, either you’ll die hungry or a cursed spirit will get to you first — either way, you’ll die with your eyes wide open with no one!”

Overrun by his thoughts, Toji doesn’t even notice that he accidentally intruded on a random cockroach and curse-infested alleyway that apparently belonged to some junkie who is now angrily telling him to get lost. “I was just looking for a place to sit down,” Toji scoffs. Weren’t they both bottom feeders in this city? Why was this rancid-smelling meth addict acting like he’s any better than him?

“Well, go sit somewhere else, this place is off-limits!”

It was almost funny how Toji thought that the world beyond the gates of the Zenin estate was any better than the shit show he was born into.

He should have known better than to be enticed by the glitz and glamour of living independently from his abusive family who at least had the decency to feed him maggoty rice from the estate’s second storehouse dedicated to prepare the animals’ food. They also gave him shelter, of course, he’s had to live in the Zenin estate’s shed for a while now since his father discovered he was born useless without an ounce of cursed energy. But at least he was warm, and the termites made him feel less lonely.

He continues on in his aimless quest. The night is still young. There’s plenty of time for self-depreciating introspection.

Hopefully, that grade three cursed spirit that’s been following him around the block for a while now gets to him first before the rain does.

“That guy over there,” your coworker whispers to you from the cash registers. “He’s been there for a while now and he hasn’t ordered anything.”

You look up from your pocketbook, your eyes curiously trained on the rugged looking man whose eyes were downcast, trained on the service water he requested from the counter when he came in. As if he could feel a pair of eyes on him, he looks up, and glances your way for a bit but you quickly hide your face behind your book.

“He kinda looks like trouble, no? Shady too, just look at the scar on his lip…”

“It’s not fair to judge someone like that, Rika-chan,” you whispered to your junior, turning to arrange the menus, painstakingly wiping each one clean with a cloth dampened with sanitizer. A small smirk appears on Toji’s lips at your passive defense of his character and as if to goad you on, he drums his fingertips against the table daring you to say another word. “Anyway, I’ll handle closing the shop tonight. You need to get home since you have class in a few hours.”

That seemed sudden. Rika looks at you funnily before shrugging off her apron in favor of her raincoat. “Well, alright, if you insist. Should I clean up the kitchen at least?”

“I’ll handle it,” you give her a thumbs up, waving her goodbye as she leaves through the backdoor. Now that you’re alone, you could hardly stop yourself from glancing at the mysterious man, and Toji himself wonders if his presence here is starting to turn into a nuisance. You were probably waiting for him to step out so you could close shop for the night but it’s raining hard right now and there are no other places open nearby to take shelter in.

The chair’s feet screeches against the wooden floorboards and you head to the restaurant’s kitchen. Toji stares at your retreating form, looks like he overstayed his welcome. He searches around for a few coins to give to you for your hospitality, of course, it probably doesn’t mean jack shit, but you must have known he didn’t have enough money for a meal when he came in here. You would have realized that immediately. But you allowed him to stay regardless.

You return a couple of minutes later with a bowl miso soup with ginger pork gyoza and shredded cabbages. You set the bowl down in front of him and Toji is thoroughly taken aback, he looks at you dumbfounded. “I don’t have any money,” his voice comes out a little gruffly but you barely flinch at the sharp edge of his tone.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Refilling his water, you explained that while you could have easily stuffed those leftovers back in the freezer, customers wouldn’t want to eat frozen food, so, you decide to heat these items up to give to him instead. “Oh,” Toji answers a little dumbly. “Or you could have thrown them out.” He stares at the sumptuous meal in front of him. Even in the Zenin estate, he never had such good food laid out in front of him before and it was surreal to see a stranger do the things his family should have done for him.

You return to the counter, leaning on your forearms as you engage in light banter with him. “You’re saying I should feed rats over people?” you chuckled, sitting back down, smiling softly when Toji gingerly bringing the bowl of miso soup to his lips, the rich earthy broth warming his throat that he lets out a content sigh.

He smirks at your little remark. “I’m saying you shouldn’t make a habit of feeding strays.” He polishes his soup bowl clean within minutes and you have to remind him to slow down every now and then as you watched him eat ravenously. “You never know when you could get that dainty hand of yours bitten off.”

You blushed pink at that. He was right, being too generous could cost you dearly one day but being the altruistic soul that you are, you’ll probably continue to be graciously selfless despite the risk of being taken advantage of. It’s just how you are as a person who believes that a little kindness can make the world better than it was yesterday. “I…don’t really know about that…whether I get bitten or not by the people I help isn’t really something I can control. The world would be better off if people just learned to be kind to one another.”

Toji hums at your naive countenance, folding his arms over the table. The room is silent for a few minutes save for the occasional rumble of thunder in the distance. “You’re kinda dumb, aren’t ya?”

“And you’re a pessimist,” you answered, quirking an amused eyebrow at him. “Who doesn’t even know how to say thank you.” You stand up to clear out the table, a teasing glint in your eyes as your curious orbs collide.

Toji scoffs, leaning against his seat, crossing his legs. At his reluctance, you shake your head, giggling softly. What an infuriating interesting guy. Toji hears the rushing of tap water from behind the counter and he smiles inwardly. The rain begins to slowly stop and he takes this window of opportunity to leave.

You don’t even try to hide your disappointment when you come back to the dining room only to find it empty, the stranger having left nothing in his wake — not a goodbye, not a thank you, and certainly not his name — except a single rusty five yen coin on the table.

Clang-dong!

“Hello, welcome—“ You stop mid-sentence. Your throat constricting with a mix of emotions, the most dominant one being joy at this happy chance, you’d recognize those sharp dark green eyes anywhere despite only first seeing them a week ago. After all, they looked so dangerously beautiful under the dim light of the dining room’s ceiling lampshade. “—back. Welcome back,” you smiled brightly at Toji.

Toji nods, his hand coming up to cover his lips as he coughs once. “Thanks…ah, right — shit, where is it?” After rummaging around his parachute jacket’s many pockets, he finally takes out his wallet and you look at him, bewildered, when he hands a few hundred yen bills to you. “For last week. Sorry I couldn’t pay you back then.”

“It’s fine.” You take his larger, calloused hand and return the money which Toji responds to by stubbornly placing it on the table.

Toji pinches the bridge of his nose when you playfully return the gesture by rolling it up and placing it in his jacket pocket, buttoning it. “Look, it was real nice of you to treat me back then, but I’m not a charity case, alright? I just wanna pay my dues.”

“Then, a simple ‘thank you’ is enough.” Toji just couldn’t understand you. You have absolutely no reason to be nice to him, but you are. For a moment, he begins to fall into the enticing thought that maybe life outside the Zenin estate won’t be too bad after all if there are people like you still around just waiting at random corners to be found in joyful happenstances such as waiting out a storm at a random family-style restaurant over a heartwarming serving of miso soup with tender pieces of gyoza and cabbage.

Relenting, he smirks at you, unable to figure you out. “Thank you.”

“Anyway, need a table for lunch?” you smiled warmly at him as you lead him to the table he sat in a week ago which you now affectionately refer to as ‘his’ table instead of table number four.

Toji nods following your lead and chuckling when you hand him the menu. “Where’s that thing I had last time?“ he oddly flips through the booklet.

“Oh uh…it’s not on the menu actually, but I could make that for you if you’d like.”

“Sounds good.” Toji hands you back the menu. You are just about to scurry away to the kitchen when he calls out to you. “So, do you have a name or should I just keep referring to you as gyoza girl or something?” Embarrassed at the way your knees seem to become weak at his boyish grin, you have to take a few deep breaths before turning around to face him again. “I’m Toji.”

He doesn’t say his last name. He doesn’t feel the need to anymore now that he’s finally closing the door to his past. You nod, noting how the name suited him. It’s brief but strong, muted but loud in its rhythm. Toji. At that moment, you find it impossible to name a prettier sound. After a few excruciating minutes in the kitchen, you come back out with two bowls of miso soup this time around and you sit down on the chair directly in front of him.

“Y/N.”

Toji repeats the melody of your name in his head. “And how much do I owe ya for this, Y/N?”

You shrugged as the two of you dig in, your hand coming up to cover your mouth as you chew the steamed gyoza, joining him as he laughs (well, he’s scoffing more than actually laughing, really), his eyes alight with wonder, when you simply say, “Five yen.”

[teamcapwasrightandishouldsayit]

That poll is so good, both tropes, especially considering it means the hero or villain already knew where the other one lived and did nothing with that information until they were hurt or needed help, 100/10, very good poll

i've never gotten a review on a poll before, but thank you anon for understanding my Vision. also they fall in love no matter who went to who

[goggles-mcgee]

Phantom Fudge

I love the fics of Danny settling into Gotham and having some sort of business and just absolutely confusing the Batfam with how flippant he is about the crime.

My take is, instead of a coffee shop or bookstore or occult shop, Danny opens a fudge shop!

His parents taught him, and he found he actually really loved it, and besides, his dream of being an astronaut was out of reach due to his unique medical readings. In this au, his parents learned about him being Phantom and took it well after a good period of spiraling because-Holy shit they shot their son. You may be asking, Goggles, didn't you just make a post that was all about Jack and Maddie not taking the news well? Yes. Yes, I did.

I go back and forth with wanting to salt them and not. I like both.

So anyways, Danny is the heir to the Ghost Throne, but he won't actually take up the official title until his time on Earth is naturally over. After everything got better with his parents and his regular ghost fighting buddies, he actually was able to raise his grades and graduate. Many teachers were amazed at the progress but really, Danny may not have been as smart as his parents and sister (he is an unreliable narrator and is actually very smart just not as conventional as his family) but before his accident he had done pretty good in school. The GIW was still a thing, but without the Fenton technology, they weren't doing as well as they previously did. His parents broke their contract after they rescued him from the GIW labs, it was a little after he told his parents about his halfa status and they came storming in to save him and all the other ghosts that were captured. After that, life got so much better. His parents listened to him, and he got to teach them all about his people. They started publishing more papers with actually accurate information and were doing their best to overturn the anti-ecto acts. They haven't accomplished it, but Danny was sure they would.

That's actually why he moved to Gotham. Tucker had the idea of contacting the Justice League to help with the anti-ecto laws, but their calls weren't being answered. Neither were the...strongly worded emails Sam sent in. So Danny did what he did best and jumped into something not entirely thought out but hoping for the best. He moved to Gotham so he could get close to Batman and ask for help. He got accepted into Gotham University on a scholarship. But he wanted to make some money on his own without his parents sending him some kind of allowance, and he didn't want to work at Bat Burger. He started selling fudge around winter at his school, and he got permission to do so.

From there, he got enough money to actually open a small fudge cart. Then he got enough for a small shop near his apartment which was rather close to Crim Alley so he hired some working girls to help with the shop and he employed any Alley Kids looking for some cash as delivery workers. (They only delivered in Crime Alley, though, but that was fine with Danny.) Danny loved his little fudge shop that he lovingly named Phantom Fudge, and the sign had a cute little ghost eating some fudge on it. When he was in school for classes, he left the shop in his friend Ginger's hands. She had been a working girl before, but before that, she had had experience working a small mom & pop kind of shop, so Danny felt good leaving her in charge. When Ellie visited, she helped out with the shop too.

Danny was thriving. Then he started getting customers of the ecto variety because, of course, he would. Apparently, he was something of an ecto filter for the shades and ghost of Gotham, so they would visit his shop to soak up some of the pure ectoplasm in the air. Then he experimented and made some ecto-fudge, which is what he gave to any ecto beings that entered his shop. Most couldn't pay, but they would give him a heads up if they saw anything shady happening around his shop.

Like a little heads up that some robberies were happening in the area, or some rogue was getting close. It was a nice little system they had. Though some ghosts came in just to tell him their unfinished business and like...he wasn’t King yet, but these were his people, so he tried to help them out as best they could.

One particular couple showed up a lot and would ask him to help warn their son of any danger they heard was brewing. They would ask him to leave messages for the son or any of his kids but also the butler if needed. Danby thought this guy had some great parents. They didn't cross over because they needed to make sure their son was safe and taken care of. It was most likely that they wouldn't cross until their son did by the sounds of it. He got permission to call them Grandma and Grandpa, which was weird, but he didn't question it.

Martha and Thomas were nice spirits, so he had no problem helping them out. But Danny is Danny and his well-intentioned help of course caught the eye of the whole batfam.

They had been receiving letters in the Manor that appeared mysteriously. The first one they had all thought was a prank from the many people there. It was a simple, 'Don’t go to the gala. Something bad will happen.' That started it all. They were all baffled but laughed it off, and those who went to the gala didn't know how to feel when the seeming wait staff took over the event and held the guests hostage.

A coincidence surely.

Then they got another note, 'Freeze is planning to do a B&E and snatch some equipment from a Wayne lab. Idk which one since you have so many.' And just like last time, the note was speaking the truth. It continued from there, and everyone tried to capture whoever or whatever was leaving the notes, but any cameras they had glitched out before returning to normal and showing a new note had showed uo somewhere in the Manor. Bruce was going crazy trying to figure out who or what their messenger was.

Alfred once found a note that said, 'Tim has been awake and pushing himself too far. He is going to crash.' He took it to heart though and made Tim rest and take a break. He would not let the note happen. Tim had had far too many crashes the past couple of months.

The note that broke Bruce, though, was small in words, but it made him feel crazy. It was his parent's death anniversary, and when he went to visit the exact spot, he saw a sticky note on the floor. He shakily picked it up to see all it said was, 'It's okay.'

Now he is really worked up and determined to find the note messenger.

While that's going on, Danny also gets some local vigilantes visiting his shop, and he is so excited to see them and try and be their friend so he can ask for help. Plus they seem to be fans of his fudge and that just makes him happy.

The batkids thing the Phantom Fudge shop owner is suspicious, but hot damn did he make some bomb ass fudge.

[meliciousmel13]

➛ K I L L A

paring: killer!bsf!billie x reader

warnings: smut, mentions of blood (duh), kiddnaping, cheating, mesionary, doggy, billie calls r names (slut, like a few times), mean billie, mentions of alchool, kind of angst(?), strap-on sex, fingering, r has a bf, smut written by a minor. i think that's it, please comment if you find any more! ty

wc: 4,413

SYNOPSIS: billie kills, billie heals.

taglist: @chrissv4mp, @billiesguitar, @ilovebillieeilish2000, @d14n4ol, @raspberrymacaroon if your not a part of this list but want to be comment under my tag list post, which is on my masterlist.

an: so sorry this took so long, i had exams and was also busy irl with things, after finishing i feel so fucking tired and literally everything discusts me idk what tf is wrong with me.

he was sweet at first. you swore it. he was the type to give you flowers everyday. and used to send you good morning and goodnight texts everyday. until he didn’t. you don’t know when you detected that change in him. you don’t know if he just decided to be cruel one day.

he doesn’t even hit you. is what he says. it’s true. he doesn’t. but what he does do, is manipulate and completely destroy your ego with just words.

like when he pointed out that it looked like you were gaining wight. he didn’t even have to tell you. you were like his trained dog. his trophy wife—girlfriend. like you had no use beyond your looks.

he’d always let his “friends” touch you, always try to impress them with you. point out that you were his pretty, submissive, pet girlfriend. most of them were ugly too.

was what billie says. she said that you should leave the asshole or maybe break into his house kill him in his sleep. she suggested doing it, but you always laughed it off. saying he treats you completely fine.

she always came over at your house when she knew he was there. intruding on your weekly dates and sitting on your couch like it was hers. he’d always glare at her. and you understood she could be a little infuriating sometimes and a little possessive but if henry wanted you, then he’d have to deal with your best friend too.

you met billie in 3rd grade. when you were small and new to the huge school. she approached you, and asked you to play with her in recces. you had so much in common. she loved to run, and you loved to run…

you were good together. you balanced each other out.

but she scares you sometimes—considering she has a gun, she’d always pretend to be dead. but you were immune to her little pranks now. she did them too often. you were too used to them.

you went to the bar just to get a drink or two. to get a break from your annoying boyfriend and equally annoying best friend, you loved her. really, you did. but she tires you out.

until you saw an incredibly hot boy walk toward you.

“hey,” he said, with a pretty smile, he was beautiful, you knew boys weren’t supposed to be beautiful, but he was.

“hi,” you said back, slightly looking up at him, tall too.

“think i can buy you a drink?”

you bit your lip, didn’t even think about henry, didn’t even think about your boyfriend.

you nodded, “i’m quinn, and you are..?” he asked, waiting for you to say your name.

“y/n.” you answered.

he was sweet and polite—talked with you a little to see if you were interested, not the intrusive, even-if-you-say-no-i-still-wanna-annoy-you type. told you he could drive you home, even asked for your number

you listened. found yourself in his jacked up car. didn’t even question why it smelled so awful in there (billie’s pranks made you not even question it). or why he had a shady duffle bag in his back seat.

“you want some water?” he asked you, driving away from the bar, and to the main road.

“yeah,” you nodded, taking a few sips and recapped it, placing it in the cup holder in the dashboard, “thank you.” you mumbled.

“you’re welcome.”

you don’t know exactly when you blacked out. it happened all at once almost. his hands on your body tying you to a wooden chair. when you woke up you were in a big warehouse. drowsy, quinn. on your phone, scrolling.

“what?” you say, looking up, and looking around. trying to find out why you were tied to a chair. when your gaze fell on him.

“your awake.” he smiled, “i think i used too much powder.” what the fuck?“you slept for too long.”

how. how the hell. did you get kidnapped. it was infuriating. all you wanted was to relax and have a drink. but you get into even more annoying bullshit.

he stayed on your phone for at least 30 minutes, or at least that’s how much it felt like. quinn groaned, massaging his temples and looking up at you.

“you got a charger?” he said, and you shake your head. which made him sigh even louder.

it took a while but he found a charger in his duffle bag. found a plug and sat down on the dirty floors continuing to scroll through your phone. also a creep. why was everyone you were remotely attracted to either 34 years old or a complete weirdo?

you heard the warehouse door creek, and see a dark figure creep inside. wearing all black clothes and—they were walking towards you.

they were in front of you now, looking up, you say a black mask and sunglasses with the hood of the hoodie covering almost everything. you wondered how he(?) could see.

you let out a small “mhph” and the figure tilted it’s head, going behind you and waiting for quinn to notice. he didn’t. so he hit the corner of the wooden chair, emitting a loud “THUMP” through out the large warehouse.

quinn finally looked behind him. “hey— uh, are you..?” he stood up, probably thinking the figure was also a killer? kidnapper? whatever. maybe he was his sidekick or something. you didn’t know. all you knew was that the person behind you had a knife. and it was currently on your neck.

“hey! whoaa, calm down dude. you don’t need to do that. we’re friends right?” for a kidnapper, he was pathetic. really fucking pathetic.

you couldn’t see behind you, but considering quinn’s smile, it was good. “yeah! yeah.. your nodding so we’re friends. we’re friends.” he repeated. seeing the man? woman? person? you didn’t know, walk towards him, with the knife hanging off his right hand.

you never would’ve seen it coming. all you saw was blood splattering across the walls and dripping onto the floors. you wanted to scream. but you closed your eyes instead. the scene of the knife slitting quinn’s throat. how he tried dropped to the floor and coughed blood.

the scene kept repeating in your brain and you saw it when you closed your eyes. you finally open your eyes. and saw the figure walking towards you, dropping the bloody knife to the floor and bending to your eye level.

it was sort of intimate. how his bloody gloved hands removed your gag. you breathed through your mouth for a while. swallowing and licking your dry lips. “thank you.” you mumble-whisper, he was untying you now and you didn’t know whether to be scared of him, or thankful that he just killed your kidnapper.

he untied you, took your hand and walked towards the seemingly dead body of quinn. there was a body of blood around him, he bent down and took the car keys from quinn’s dead body.

you felt safe. it was scary because you felt safe. a killer was holding your hand and leading you to a car and you felt safe.

he opened the door to quinn’s car. and you realized that he hasn’t spoken a word ever since he walked into the doors of that warehouse.

you didn’t know what to say. all you wanted to do was go home. or go to billie. anywhere that’s not here.

his driving was that to billie’s. you didn’t notice, maybe you did, your was brain too messy to think logically. of why you were in a killer’s car, and why you felt safe.

you arrived at the nearest building. a gas station. just staring at the gas station. did he expect you to get off? you couldn’t. your knees were too weak. so you just stared at him. and he stared at you. just holding the wheel and looking out his side of the window, waiting for you to leave. like he’d done his part or something.

“what?” you said dryly, “i’ll go— just gimme a little.” you sigh, and lay back on the seat. you could hear him sigh too. he bucked his hips and slid half way down the seat. just like billie did.

you both breathed for a while. until you gained the courage to leave. he drove off the second you got out. you walked to the gas station. there were 2 other cars behind you and you had blood on your cheeks.

the bell ringed at your entrance. and the part-timer didn’t spare a glance at you. you felt small. you kind of wanted to be small, you wanted to be like, six or something.

“um—” you wanted to go home. all you could think of was home, home, home and billie.

“what.” she said, still not looking up from her phone. you wanted her to see you. thinking your appearance would explain your situation without you having to move your mouth.

she sighed, and looked up. closing her phone and looking. her eyes skimmed past your skirt and hoodie and stared at your face.

she helped. gave you her phone so you could call someone to pick you up and you called billie. you knew if you called your henry he’d take two hours to get here. she helped clean up your bloody face and you finally talked.

“i ran away.” you explained, and kathryn listened intently, “i— i um—” you stutter, and she rubbed your arms reassuringly, you were struggling to find a good excuse, you couldn’t. so you told her the half-truth.

billie came to pick you up in record time, it took her 25 minutes. which was fast because the ride to here would take at least 33 minutes. probably sped up.

billie was concerned when she came, she hugged you tightly when you got out the station, mumbling “thank fuck your safe.” and “i don’t know what i’d do without you.” it was the first time you’ve seen her so scared. she wasn’t the type to panic, if she did she would hide it.

you were still shook. your back was stiff and your usual laid back position in her car turned all polite with your hands on your lap and your head towards the window. whenever billie asked something you’d reply dryly, you felt bad but what did she expect?

at first she wanted to take you home. to your own house that you own. but you couldn’t stay alone after that. it was too traumatizing. so she drove you to her house.

when you entered your nose was filled with billie. her musky cologne and her.

she took you to her room, and it was a mess. you didn’t care though, collapsed onto her queen sized bed. and tried to not pay attention to the smell, it reminded you of his car. the water, the bag. everything reminded you of him.

“do you wanna change?” she asked, and you nodded. looking around her room like it was the first time you’ve seen it.

she was holding the clothes now, expecting you to get up and wear them. you didn’t. just stared up at her.

“come on,” she mumbled, taking your arm and helping you get up. you didn’t know what happened, maybe your brain finally processed the entire situation. maybe you expecting felt safe enough to just cry. you did, you felt tears welling up in your eyes when billie tried taking your shirt off, you cried in her arms and she held you.

you let out small whimpers and hiccups of her name and while trying to calm you down she put your head on her shoulder, turning your head you saw a pile of black clothes in the corner, probably thrown in a hurry. ignoring it, you dig your head in her neck and breathe her in. her scent calmed you down.

its been 3 minutes now and billie has been rubbing you back and kissing your shoulders the whole time.

all you wanted to do was curl up in her lap and not think. you just wanted to not think for once. maybe she could run her hands through your hair while doing it. you didn’t have to ask. she took you to lay your head on her lap. and your heart ached with something you’ve never felt before, something indescribable and immensely painful. you curled up, half in her lap, half in your own, in desperate need of comfort from someone other than him yourself. for a moment, her gentle touch helped you forget.

it was peaceful. it was so damn peaceful and you wanted to cry because you’ve never felt so safe before. your knees hurt. and the way your legs were positioned on her lap actually hurt. but you couldn’t get away. you couldn’t think—you couldn’t do anything. it was like you were frozen.

but you liked it. you liked not thinking and not doing anything—it felt good. like for once you didn’t have to do anything. billie ran her hands through your hair and slowly undressed you with her eyes. she rubbed your hips and kissed your arms. it felt good and you wanted more.

“can i take this off?” she asked.

“yes.” you replied, turning around slightly to see her pulling your hoodie above your arms and off. she laid it down next to her and she gazed upon you like you were the moon and stars and her savior. you felt needed. in that moment you felt like someone wanted you, beyond just as friends or girlfriends or boyfriends.

billie finally touched you. she touched your belly first. rubbing your sides and looked at you. you felt kind of shy? her eyes made you shy. you wanted to look away. but you couldn’t. gasping, once her roaming hands touched your breasts.

“fuck.” she mumbled, and you didn’t even think of what you were doing. just focused on how good it felt, to have her on top of you—touching you. it was the sort of thing you dream of and never expect it to actually happen. but it did. it was happening right now.

“billie.” you whine-gasp as her hand slips under your skirt and lifting it up. it was a pornographic scean really. literally the things you’d see in porn. this was different though—heavenly.

the skirt was laying above your hips, revealing your pink underwear, and billie looked stuck in a haze. she sighed. it wasn’t an annoyed sigh or anything, she was in awe. you could see it all over her face—you could see what she was thinking.

one hand was playing with your nipples, tweaking and pinching. the other was just rubbing up and down your thigh. she spread your legs and your head was near the edge of the bed.

billie stopped the movements on your nipples and fully focused on your underwear, pulling them to the side and biting her lip, “you’re fuckin’ dripping f’me.” she breathed out, running her thumb up your pussy and collecting your arousal, “all this for me? hm?” you were flushed, if the room wasn’t already hot she was making it hot.

“billie.” you whined, and she tilted her head, “touch—”

“touch you?” she interrupted, “you want me to touch you? huh? my slut wants me to touch her,” she chuckled bending down your your legs at the side of her hips, she kissed and nipped at your neck, “c’mon, tell me how i should touch you.” she pulled away and grinned as you bit your lip, looking away and gripping her messy sheets.

“if you can’t say anything then how do i know where to touch you? so fuckin’ whiny.” she groaned, gripped your underwear with her whole fist and dragged her middle finger through your folds, slipping it half and inch in and pulled away before you could beg for more.

“billie.” you whined, bucking your hips and looking up at her with the most pitiful expression, pouty lips and eyebrows furrowed.

“billie,” she mimicked your whine, “can’t wait ny’ longer please js’ fuck me already.” she laughed, imitating you. she was so mean. by now you were ruining her bed sheets, your thighs were stained and her dark jeans were a mess, because of you.

she was sitting with her knees bent under your thighs, your legs were laid by her hips and your pussy had a perfect angle to grind on her stomach, you didn’t, she gave you a perfect opportunity to get the pleasure you wanted but you didn’t. you had this burning desire to be good for her. you just wanted to be good for her.

her hand was still gripping you underwear and you were wondering what she was thinking about, “billie?” you called out her name, looking up at her innocently like you weren’t spread out beneath her.

“yeah?

“need you.” you breathed out, and that seemed to wake her up. she got up from the bed and walked towards her dresser, “where are you going?” she didn’t answer. only digging through her dresser, she pulled out a box and took something from it, you just sighed and laid your head back on the bed.

“c’mere.” she said, taking your hips to her hands and dragging you to lay back on her pillows, taking one and putting it under your back, you smiled, for no reason at all, “what?” she asked.

“what, what?

“why are you smiling?” she kissed your neck, it was sweet, how she cared about you.

“nothing.” you shook your head, and looked down to find something poking your entrance, “billie.” you looked back up.

“what?” she smirked.

“it won’t fit.” you gripped the sheets.

“i’ll make it fit.” she said, and dragged the silicone across your pussy, entering her middle finger to get you ready for her. you moaned, it was embarrassing almost. she didn’t even do anything yet, “my pretty girl.” she breathed out, adding another finger and pumping into you slowly—she started to kiss your neck, and mumble filth into your ear.

“ffuck— billie!” you moaned—loudly, right in her ear. you didn’t mean to. really, you didn’t. but she added another digit in you, your brain was already a mess.

she pulled away from your neck, groaning. looking frustrated. but not at you, “you did that on purpose didn’t you” she asked and you looked up at her, before you could reply she dragged your thighs closer to her and pumped her fingers faster.

“billie— can’t—”

“can’t what? hm? slut.”

“m’ gonna cum—” you whined, feeling her fingers brush your g-spot. your swore you heard her mumble something but it was too quiet for you to hear. all you could think of was billie billie billie. it felt so good. your mind was fuzzy and you were seeing stars.

rolling your eyes back you could feel her gaze on you. you didn’t even think, just gripped her wrist and whined, “want me to stop?” she smirked.

“no! no, don’t stop. please please— billie.”

“you can’t cum until i say so angel.” she said, cruel. you whimpered as she took her fingers out of you, taking the silicone cock and angling it to your pussy, you bit your lip, feeling her rub circles on clit and rubbing her cock up and down on your pussy.

“hurry up.” you said.

“bossy.” she mumbled, didn’t even say anything back, just laid your head back on the bed and felt the tip go into you, instead of gripping the sheets you grip her biceps, “oh.” you gasp, and billie slowed down, so you could get used to the feeling to of the strap.

“ready?” she asked, and you nodded, she filled you up and you could feel the ridges of the strap against your walls, it was almost too big, you were scared at first but she took your hand and looked down at you with an almost sweet expression, you knew what she was thinking about though.

“who said it wouldn’t fit?” she said, and you looked up at her with your mouth agape, feeling her rub up and down your thighs while waiting for you to adjust. at least she was waiting. she was better than him.

you imagined your boyfriend walking into her room, seeing billie fucking you with her strap, you imagined his angry face, how you’d whimper moan into her ear, while staring at him. you wanted him to see.

billie was moving her hips and you gripped her biceps, it hurt, almost. you felt bad for her neighbors. but that was the least of your worries.

“wish you could see yourself.” billie mumbled, and pulled out, before you could even protest she turned you around, taking your hips and lifting them up.

oh, you felt filthy. she was angling the strap to your entrance and you laid your head on the pillow, turning so you could see her. you hated that you couldn’t see her.

“billie—” before you could even whine you felt her thrust into you harshly, “oh— fuck.” you moan.

“yeah? what do you wanna say angel? can’t say—” she gripped your hips and slammed into you roughly, “can’t say a thing, hm baby?” mean. she was so mean.

“wanna’ see you.” you whine, digging your head into the pillow, billie started to kiss up your back, you didn’t even have to see her you could feel the smirk on her face. every time she drives into you, your juices squelch, drenching both of you in a mix of sweat and slick.

“wanna’ see you.” she mocked, looking down, seeing a white substance cover the end of her strap, “fuck—” billie hissed, your moans and whimpers were driving her insane. your walls cling to her, squeezing her tighter with every thrust. her pace became erratic, desperate, hips snapping harder and faster.

“so fuckin’ tight,” she sighed, letting go of your hips and gripped the pillow under your stomach, “nd’ perfect.” she plowing into you and you were so close. you could feel it, brewing in your lower stomach, you didn’t want to tell billie, scared if you did she’d take it all away and make you beg to come.

“billie— can’t hold it.” you whine, feeling her hand grip your hips so tight you knew it would bruise the next morning.

“just a little more sweetheart.” she said, and you wanted to listen, you wanted to be a good girl, for her. but you couldn’t. clenching around her and gripping the pillow in a vice grip, s hard you were scared it was going to rip. you didn’t want to ruin her pillow so you let go. holding the sheets softly.

billie saw your hesitation and sighed, “you can hold the pillow angel, i won’t be—” she licked her lips, “won’t be mad.” she reassured, and you put your hands back on the pillow.

“can i come?” you were so cute. whimpering and moaning under her. she almost said yes. wanted to say yes, but she wanted to show you how much better she was making you come, than your asshole boyfriend with a micro dick and massive ego.

“no.” she replied, and you whined.

“why not.” you had to hold back a moan, just to speak.

“cause’.”

you waited, bit your lip and closed your eyes and hoped she would finally allow you to come.

“billie.” your hands clutch onto the pillow desperately trying to hold it in. it hasn’t even been a minute yet.

“you can hold it a little more, can’t you angel?” you could’ve came right there. could’ve. it was a choice, she gave you a choice. you could come, or you could wait, just a little longer.

you held it in, feeling the strap hit deeper and deeper each thrust, it hit your g-spot every time. she already knew your body like that back of her hand and he didn’t even know what a clit was.

“how would henry think about this?” billie said, hinting to what your boyfriend would think if he saw you, “seeing you like this— hm?” you hated how she made you think of him while she was literally pounding into you.

“billie.” you warn—try to, at least. but the moan right after made it really hard to be intimidating, plus the fact that you couldn’t be intimidating to save your life. having billie trail after you where ever you go was enough scary-dog privilege. she did the intimidating, you were always smiling.

“yeah? have somethin’ to say?’ she mocked. you wanted to be mad at her, you wanted to turn around and teach her a lesson—you wanted. you never did a thing.

by this point the knot in your lower belly was hard to ignore, every time you moaned, or whined and whimpered you felt it throbbing. you squeezed around the silicone tightly feeling billie struggle to keep up the same fast pace. and you finally felt like you were winning, she was getting tired.

“can i come?” you whimpered, again, praying for her to say yes.

“you can come now angel.” billie bit her lip, holding your hips and you finally let go.

“i’m cumming!” you whimpered in between moans, screams filling her room as it finally hit you, your ears ringing and vision faltering as she helped you ride it out.

you whined when she pulled the strap out of you, leaving you empty and needy. “fuck, would you look at that.” there was a pleased smirk on her face as she looked at the soaked, creamy white strap.

“how’d that feel?” she asked, like she didn’t just give you the longest and best orgasm of your life, he’s never made you come before so you don’t even have anything to compare her to.

“s’ good.” you mumble drowsily, collapsing on your stomach to the pillow she placed there when she let go of her hold on your hips.

“so fucked out.” she smiled, and your head was turned to her bedside table, seeing some blood? red paint? something—stained on it, you ignore it, it was probably because of how old the thing was.

you heard her mumble something like, “fuck, i need to clean that” when seeing where your head was directioned, she was talking about the strap, right?

[hellsitegenetics]

In this valentines day I am actually going to confess my HATRED towards dolphins

I don't know if it's because of the ridiculous amount of cursed facts I have been told, the fact that they can be evil, just unsubstantiated hatred or the fact that I almost got bit by one when I was in 4th grade during a very shady school trip to a zoo.

I just hate them man, they're pure nightmare fuel, in dreams they have bitten my head off, their skin looks so akin to human skin yet so much like plastic, their eyes have no souls in them but the ones they've consumed.

And while yes, they're animals, they're also incredibly smart which only means when they force themselves upon whatever other dolphin, animal or even human has the disgrace to, they know what they're doing.

They have been a main cause of shark attacks, and just as if not more likely to attack than sharks.

This is the face of a species of animals that can and will kill for FUN.

I Hate these glorified aquatic mammal fucks.

But GOD they're fascinating.

And did not deserve whatever the CIA was on when they tried to get dolphins to speak English what the fuck even happened there.

String identified:

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't t' ca t c at c act a t, t act tat t ca , t tatat at t act tat at gt t a 4t ga g a a c t t a .

t at t a, t' gta , a t a tt a , t a t a t c atc, t a t t t t' c.

A , t' aa, t' a c at c a t c t at t , aa a a t gac t, t at t' g.

T a a a ca a attac, a t a t t attac ta a.

Closest match: Danio rerio genome assembly, chromosome: 6 Common name: Zebrafish

[myblurryreality]

I saw someone mention that they don't like that so many Fics make Wei Wuxian the poor one who's saved from his circumstances, in modern Fics, by Lan Wangji. They said they think it's rooted in heteronormative ideas of the 'woman/receiving' being below the 'man/giving' and puts Wei Wuxian in the typical woman role that many het romances do. When in reality, in the modern world Wei Wuxian would only be down on his luck temporarily. He's a genius, something Lan Wangji is not in my opinion, and would probably create his own company if he had to. If you do have him being down and out, at least make it make sense. Like he got kicked out, or sabotaged, or black balled, but not his grades aren't good enough for a scholarship 👀 (genius) or he just up and decided no school and he'll do shady shit 👀 (moral ideal). Wei Wuxian is so smart and charming, and I feel like some people don't utilize that enough in their modern fics.

Ignore me though. I'm just ranting into the void.

P.S. About that Lan Wangji not being a genius comment. I think Lan Wangji is a cultivation prodigy who is highly intelligent and well read but I don't think he's a genius. Wei Wuxian is also a prodigy in cultivation but his mind is on another plane, he is in fact a genius. He's innovative and voraciously curious. His mind is fast and makes leaps which propel him into action before others, which to them reads as reckless but they just didn't have enough time to compute what he did. I think a meta I read talking about how Lan Wangji is more likely to make a "reckless" decision because he steps into the danger to stop others from being harmed, as opposed to Wei Wuxian who is able to find the smartest solution in the same amount of time is a prime example of their mental differences. Lan Wangji's mind is quicker than most but Wei Wuxian's is even faster. Hence, genius.

[onlyjjong]

엔하이픈 --- AND THAT'S HOW I FELL IN LOVE WITH YOUR MOTHER.

　　김선우 　x　 fem!reader 　　┊　　1172 words

GENERE　┊ 　!oneshot, !nonidol , !fluff , !hints of attempted angst , !high school, !potential relationship , !bestfriends to lovers

NOTE DI ENTRATA�� ┊　 in which seonwoo falls in love with his best friend after seeing how caring she is.

DISCLAIMER 　┊ 　depictions may be inaccurate , contains swear words & mentions of violence (reader punching someone).

⟡ 📩 𑁋 TAGGING : @a-dream-bookmark , @enchive , @en-log , @/k-labels

Alone. Helpless. Countless emotions haunted Kim Seonwoo, dragging him down with them. He begun to dread waking up every single day, knowing that he’ll be discouraged by his own progress. 

School was beginning to feel rather overwhelming. Wasn’t 10th grade supposed to be all about spending memorable time with friends with no care about tomorrow? 

The shady trees and colourful slides around him began to blur as tears threatened to spill out of his eyes. He clenched his fists tight, trying to force all the emotions down his throat. 

“Seonwoo!” a voice called—melodious, sweet, and enlightening. A voice that belonged to you, his best friend. 

Shit.

Seeing that Seonwoo wasn’t waving back at you cheerfully, as he normally would, your heart began to pang with worry. Your legs quickened their pace, driving you to Seonwoo as fast as they could. 

“Seon-” 

“Hi, Y/N,” he smiled as he quickly cut you off, hastily blinking back tears. 

“You walked back home without me,” you said, pouting slightly. You fidgeted with your backpack straps. “I waited for 30 minutes in front of the gate! I seriously thought I made you upset or something.”

Seonwoo forced a chuckle, his eyes fixed upon the algae that had grown onto the base of the bench he was sitting on. “I’m sorry. I… I didn’t mean to.”

“There’s something wrong,” you said abruptly after an awkward period of silence—that involved Seonwoo trying his absolute hardest to avoid your interrogating gaze. “But, you’re hiding it from me. And I’m guessing it’s been like this for, like, a while.”

Seonwoo immediately looked up, finally making eye contact. “Huh?”

“Don’t you ‘huh’ me, Kim Seonwoo,” you rolled your eyes, huffily taking a seat next to him. “I’ve known you for quite some time now. Trust me when I say, I know when to spot an upset Seonwoo.” 

A couple of minutes passed by with complete silence. Seonwoo threw his gaze far away, dazed as your look on him went unnoticed. 

Noticing how your best friend of almost 3 years—who knew you like the back of his hand, who was always there with you no matter how happy, dumb, or sad you are—acted so out of character, you couldn’t help but feel a portion of the emotions he felt. 

“You know,” you chuckled gently as you began, glancing at Seonwoo, “today I finally got the butter sugar bun I’ve been wanting to eat for ages. It was finally restocked!”

Licking your lips, you reminisced at the taste. You kicked your legs in the air, excited, “it was sooo good, Ddeonu! I wish you were there to eat it with me. Where were you?”

“Library,” he muttered a few seconds after. 

You pressed your lips together, sighing. You hoped that changing the topic would’ve brought Seonwoo back into his normal self; but nothing was working. 

Desperate to cheer him up, you took a deep breath.

“You never go to the library without me,” you replied, hugging your legs with your arms as you turned to face him, “are you upset with me?”

Seonwoo failed to meet your eye. 

“No.”

“Yes. Yes you are.”

“No.”

“Yes, you are. Seonwoo, I know you–”

“No, you fucking don’t!” Seonwoo yelled sharply, directly into your face. The shock it gave sent you tumbling down the bench; you fell flat on the ground.

“Seonwoo…”

“You don’t know me, Y/N! Stop acting like you care, stop acting like I’m the bestest friend you could ever have!”

As soon as those words left Seonwoo’s lips, something in you snapped. Within seconds, your fist landed onto his lips, throwing him slightly to the back. 

Towering over his figure, you seethed, “fine. You know what? I guess I don’t know you after all. The Seonwoo I know is kind, gentle, and caring. He would never yell at me face for fucking asking how he’s doing.”

A tiny pinch of guilt seeped into you as you watched Seonwoo wipe blood off his lips. 

“The Seonwoo I know is my best friend—who I’ll trade nothing in the world for.”

The world fell silent as the two of you stayed to soak in what just happened. 

“If you’re not saying anything, then I’m going home,” you then said, after what seemed like eternity of waiting for some kind of verbal response from Seonwoo. He hadn’t met your eyes ever since you stated how you truly felt about him. That you saw him as your best friend; your rock; your companion. 

Though, before you could leave, Seonwoo grabbed your arm. And as you turn to face him, you are greeted with something you’d never expect to see. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” whispered Seonwoo, his voice throaty. His hand tightened its grip on your wrist. Tears began to flow down his cheeks, causing his beautiful eyes to sparkle. “I’m sorry, I really am. I-I didn’t mean to say that to you. I don’t… I don’t know what I was thinking–”

“It’s okay, really,” you replied, reaching for his hand.

“I knew you were going through something, Seonwoo,” you continued, oblivious to the fireworks that started to blast in your best friend’s heart. 

“I’ve never seen you look so… broken, you know? I-I don’t know what to do to comfort you. I still don’t,” you chuckled. 

Squeezing his hand tight, you smiled. “I thought of giving you some space to sort yourself out, but if you need anything, I’ll be here.”

Seonwoo, upon hearing your words, couldn’t stop his tears any longer. He cried his heart out, and even though it deeply concerned you, you knew best to remain there with him. 

“Seonwoo…” you hugged him, slightly surprised to find him reciprocating the gesture swiftly. 

 “I’m struggling,” he confessed, face buried in the comfort of your hoodie, “with everything. I’m on the verge of failing, Y/N.”

“I know it’s weak of me to cry–”

“It’s not.”

Seonwoo chuckled amidst his (still flowing) tears, which made you slightly happy. You managed to lift his mood up a little!

“I’ll help you, you know,” you said, patting his back. “I’ll help you until you become one of the top students of Decelis International School.”

Seonwoo giggled, causing tingly vibrations throughout your body. “Thanks,” he murmured into your hoodie, a few seconds after his giggle settled down. “I owe you my life, Y/N.”

Squeezing into the embrace, you nodded. “Anything for you, Seonwoo.”

Seonwoo shook his head, grinning as he broke the hug. “Oh, don’t say that—you’ll regret it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Yeah, since you’ll do anything for me—I’ll make you do all my homework, do all my projects– ouch! What was that for?” 

“Don’t make me take back my hug and my words!” you exclaimed after hitting his head. 

The two of you erupted into fits of laughter; the orange sunset painted across the sky around you. The moment was perfect—everything seemed to go by slowly, and it seemed like it was only Seonwoo and you. 

“And, Seong-ja, that’s how I fell in love with your mother.”

― © onlyjjong, 2024.

⟡ 📬 𑁋 𝓛𝐈𝐋𝐈's PERMANENT TAGLIST! (OPEN) : send an ask to be added! @flwrstqr , @floweryang , @junislqve , @mimiuius, @en-gelic , @tzyunaes

[starwrighter]

A DpxDc prompt because I <3 all of you but am too shy to talk in the discord.

The Subnautica au I promised! (I might make two of them)

Okay, so Danny is around 14 or 15 in this. He is still a halfa but the portal has been temporarily closed for plot reasons. So the portal is closed and Danny has no clue what to do now. Due to the portal being closed Danny's grades have improved exponentially enough that he gets an work offer from Altera (ignore the child labor it's the Giw/Altera's shady business practices fault)

Danny is ecstatic because he's finally getting the opportunity to go to space! He knows if he waits the portal will be reopened and he'll never have a chance like this again so he takes it. In less than a month Danny has been trained and is shipped off to the Aurora. He's heading towards planet 4546b with very little information on the planet itself.

The crash happens and Danny doesn't use his powers to save the ship because something around the atmosphere was preventing full accessing his powers in full. Danny scrambles to the life pods and ends up being the only one in life pod five. The whole life pod scene happens with Danny being knocked out by the panel flying off the wall.

He wakes up with the life pod on fire and quickly uses what he can of his ice powers to put it out not realizing there's a fire extinguisher. Danny exits the life pod and realizes that a lot of people he talked to on the ship not even a day ago were probably dead. Judging by his inability to go ghost, he wouldn't be reuniting with them in the ghost zone any time soon.

He is devastated but goes about exploring and trying to find any other survivors. His hope of finding survivors near the crash zone dies when the ship explodes and starts leaking deadly radiation. Danny of course rushes to try and fix this. It's easier for him to get there because he can stay under water for an inhuman amount of time and has a built up immunity to radiation as a halfa.

Now to the DC part of this. Let's stick with only the batfam existing in this universe. The entire batfam are classified as leviathan's. All of them have two forms with one of said forms being semi humanoid mer like appearance. They are still pretty big in this form, think 7-8ft at the smallest (aka Damian) The other form is something I like to call

Big f-ken fish™

Which is full on terrifying reapers (we'll decide what each of the fam specifically look like later) and a lot of them are chilling in the crash zone when Danny is fixing the Aurora's reactor. Danny has not yet been spotted by the reapers.

Now they're already pissed off because a big arse ship just crashed into their planet and destroyed a great deal of it. They don't exactly know what a space ship is but they do know that the technology is advanced and the only thing remotely close on their planet is from the precursors who were a bunch of pricks.

Before the explosion the fam kept an eye on the weird creatures that crawled out of the metal eggs They watch them almost immediately start dying from predators or Kharaa. They were there when the ship exploded and started leaking radiation and killing the local wild life much to Damian's despair.

So the Fam are pretty pissed off at this point and are circling the ship. They immediately noticed when the ship stops leaking radiation and spot Danny swimming away from the reck quicker than any of the other ones that crawled out of the eggs.

Granted most of the other ones from the eggs immediately died and didn't have faces (the wet suits looked weird and Danny refuses to wear them no matter how much easier they would make things >:(

They start watching him because obviously there's something odd about this thing it looks kinda like a much smaller version of their smaller forms. Danny is getting pretty ticked off that his PDA keeps making false alarms of leviathan's. Duke, and tim are the ones monitoring Danny in the safe shallows. Jason and Dick in the crash zone. Barbra and Stephanie in the kelp forest. Cass and Bruce are patrolling the grassy plateaus.Damian is by himself at the quarantine gun/ sunbeam landing sight.

Danny sets up base near the quarantine gun™ because for some reason even though he's not infected he can't turn the damn thing off. So Damian is the only one currently capable of watching him. Damian has a theory that he 100% sure is correct. As a 1600 year old leviathan he's not a baby he's almost an adult and doesn't remember being a baby. This thing crawled out of an egg and is super tiny so it is obviously a baby and a very smart one at that. While it didn't have the claws, gills, tail, or scales they had it was super fast, could freeze things, had super strong hands despite looking dull and frail, it could take useless scraps and rocks and turn them into complex structures. It was obviously a new type of leviathan the ship carrying eggs. Danny was the smallest of the babies but he was also the strongest, and smartest; surviving long enough to have eyes and hair. This baby was young enough that he still needed to surface for air he needed to be protected.

Danny has no clue he's now being stalked by a group of reapers that decided he was their new baby brother/son

[theworld-accordingtocasey]

Yuta uses a robe off the shelf to mop away the blood and flecks of bone and brain from your skin. 

THE WHAT AND WHAT OF HUH AND EXCUSE ME!?????

a gentle tongue breaketh the bone | 6: gift

pairing: fem hybrid fox omega!reader/hybrid Alpha!nct 127

tags: reverse harem, non-traditional omegaverse hybrid! cyberpunk au, pack dynamics, polyamory, slowburn/slowbuild, angst & hurt/comfort, heavy content warnings inc. torture, graphic violence, suicidal ideation, explicit sexual content

summary: the year is 2127. decades of eugenics and warfare have led to the rise of designated populations: the ruler Alphas and their rare, prized omegas sequestered from the Beta population. in the aftermath of the War of the Two Tigers, New Goryeo ushers in an Imperial dynasty determined not by birthright but by the alliance of the Syndicate's clancorps to choose the best pack of your generation. you are destined to take your place within the Imperial harem as a queen, and–perhaps–Imperatrix herself

but you have a secret, written into your skin and bones–one that could easily kill you, depending on who finds it out

ten years ago you chose your Alpha and their pack in a fateful meeting

now, you must make them choose you

[masterlist & glossary] [read on AO3] [0: prologue] [1: escape, again] [2: lost and found] [3: returned] [4: bound] [5: home]

wc: 5k

chapter warnings: mild au sexual harassment, graphic violence, yuta is a bit of a menace (affectionate)

recommended listening: dead man runnin' - seulgi, easy - key

The emergency meeting takes place with you locked back in the medical bay, Taeil unconcerned as he eats his leftover supper. When you give him a pathetic enough look he feeds you bites of ramen from his chopsticks, unable to stop you from stealing the whole bowl as you go back to hiding at his feet.

The monitor in front of him has multiple live feeds, each keyed in on the nine members of the pack where they've ensconced themselves. 

Or rather, eight. The ninth was nowhere to be found–having clawed out of his chambers by breaking down the door to disappear into an abandoned section of the building.

"You shouldn't have let her in there," a dry voice speaks, angular face lit in green infrared as he navigates what looks like an unfinished office–the exposed ceiling trailing cut wires. "Scents all the way down here on 97."

A sneeze answers from another cam.

"It's awful." You recognize Mark's fricative voice, his large eyes filling the screen as he wipes at his nose. "You could have at least given us some warning."

"We didn't have enough notice to change the air filtration units," Doyoung sighs, pulling back into pillows with his glasses on his head. You can see Taeyong's ears just out of frame, twitching occasionally in his medicated sleep. "It wasn't deliberate." 

"Why not evacuate them both?" Jungwoo asks.

"We only have one safehouse. We could probably sneak Taeyong into one of the nicer rut hotels but that's just asking for trouble," Doyoung says. "We'd be vulnerable."

"Are you volunteering to run that op? Or do we pull in the recruits?" Jungwoo asks, distracted by something on another screen. 

"You know they aren't ready for that," Mark bites back. “This is pack business, not corps.”

"____ stays here," Taeil finally speaks, finishing his deliberation as he side-eyes you licking the bowl clean. "We'll need a schedule for guard duty. One shift per day, and then three when they cycle."

There's a collective groan across the speakers, and your ears perk at a rich laugh from Jungwoo's monitor.

"I'm going to Containment," someone says. "Wake me up when this nightmare is over."

You lift yourself tentatively onto the console, peering into the black space behind Jungwoo's shoulder for the familiar voice. 

"What's Containment?" You ask, looking back at Taeil.

He smiles wryly. "Quarantine."

"Why don't we just stick her in there and let her sweat it out until it's over," Mark says. You look up at his video feed and smile at him, baring your teeth intentionally. It's funny how he startles, like the image is horrifying. 

"That won't preclude her from needing medical attention and care," Taeil says. "Solitary confinement is not an option."

"What, your security operation can't handle one little omega?" Haechan asks, shoving his hair back from his forehead as he appears on his screen. "Hi, Princess."

You smile at him, too, crouching over the keyboard with your tail on full display. "You’ll watch over me, won't you?" 

Haechan turns away from the monitor, making a stifled sound that sounds suspiciously like a groan. "Alright, maybe you have a point."

"Well isn't that convenient," Doyoung says. "I'll put you first, Lee."

"No," someone says. "I'll escort the first shift. We can discuss evacuation offline." 

You look up to see Yuta staring directly at you through the screen, eyes green discs in the night vision. You don't smile this time.

"Team F will do lockdown preparations, Team C will handle our guest until," Taeil checks the readouts from his personal screen, "four hours, give or take."

"She peaking that fast, Doc?" Jungwoo asks.

"Surprisingly, no." Taeil says. "It's Taeyong's hormones that are spiking. Who knows what his reaction will be to someone with her pheromone profile. He might fuck her. Or he might kill her. Better avoid that risk altogether."

You paw at the screen with cupped fingers, pressed into the raised light over Taeyong's sleeping profile. He looks peaceful, in contrast. You still have half-moons of blood under your fingernails from the scratch marks you'd made in his skin. 

"I really didn't mean to hurt him." 

"I don't care. The next time you lay a claw on him you'll get like for like," Doyoung warns through the screen. He changes tack just as quickly, back to cold efficiency. "Let's get Taeyong moved to the penthouse, then. Any luck, Yuta?"

"Suh is somewhere in the old NeoTech quarters."

You perk at the name but make an effort to hide your interest, sinking back down with your nose at desk level. 

"I'll go get him," Taeil says, resignation in his voice. "Yuta, I'll need that escort."

You wait until the conversation is over to speak again, jumping at the sound of the disconnect.

"Are they angry with me?" you whisper, eyes meeting Taeil's. 

"More annoyed," he confirms. The half-hearted attempt to soften the blow does little to soothe you as you feel a wave of regret. 

You'd harmed your mate. Even if he hadn't bonded you yet he'd offered you his trust and you'd torn it to pieces, literally. You begin to sob, quietly, wrapping your arms around your knees. 

"How maudlin," Doyoung sighs, apparently still on the call. "Do you think you can hold down the fort while we're gone?" 

Taeil places a hand on your head, soothing you within a few strokes across your delicate ears. You burrow into his thigh over his lab coat. 

"We'll survive," he says, amused. "Hopefully with our dignity still intact. It would probably be best to assume that someone is going to be subjected to her who doesn't have Taeyong's self control."

"The kids," Doyoung sighs. "Well if they want to get it out of their system, let them. Just keep you-know-who isolated."

"Who would you like for security?" 

"I'm leaving both Mark and Yuta with your team. Mark is uninterested and Yuta has experience. Jungwoo should be useful, too. We can handle ourselves."

"Fine. But let me know if there's any issue with the rut."

"Do you expect there to be?" Doyoung's voice cracks with a mild surprise. 

"It might not be as effective, under the circumstances," Taeil says. "Keep an eye out for any of the signs of a hormonal storm. We'll have to administer more serious treatment in that case, and it won't be acceptable long term."

"I'll act like I know what any of that means if you'll just send me clear instructions on what to check and when." Doyoung places a hand on Taeyong's forehead, testing his temperature. 

"I'll get him ready," he says. "Let's be out of here by 22:00."

You watch the rectangle disappear as the call ends, nudging Taeil to get him to keep petting you. 

"Try not to be too much trouble," he says, ruffling your hair.

The lanky Felid seems nice enough, arms crossed as he stares down at your attempt to untie one of the laces on his combat boots. You drop the string, worrying at your torn sweater instead, waiting for him to say something–anything.

He doesn’t say a word.

You crouch on the cold floor, tail tucked between your legs, unsure how to act. Cats are rancid creatures to you physiologically speaking, but you don't taste that sourness now.

“Princess," Yuta finally acknowledges, sealing the door shut behind him. Now that you can see him clearly, so close, you find him fascinating–angular, sly features crooking under a mop of fawn-colored hair. He smirks at you, amused at the way you observe him from your crouched position.

You sniff at his legs, catching rare floral signatures and pine. Memory tugs at you, at the way his scent mingles with the richer tones of a different cat. 

Of course, the third man. Johnny's partner. You'd met before, under circumstances that register distantly with the sedation you're under. Just something that happened to a girl, the animal that's replaced her uninterested in treading that path.

These late stage dosages are woefully nothing compared to the vixen surfacing in your behavior. She has a knack for thievery, just usually not so blatant. It's easy to blame the drugs for reduced inhibitions as you search him. He doesn’t appear to react, amused. 

You find something hard in his belt loop and dig it out, not offered any protest, the Felid's hands still behind his back.

"Hmm," you say, opening the telescoping shaft out to its farthest point. "What does this do?"

"Let's not find out," Yuta says, leaning in to pluck it from your fingers. 

He deposits something else in your grasp–a huge swath of dark gray fabric that smells incredible. 

Your joy at receiving a gift is soured realizing how careless you'd been with the first clothes you'd been given, shredded through and hanging off your antiseptic-dotted shoulder.

Scratches from Taeyong criss-cross your belly, more itching beneath the remains of your pants where he'd kicked at your legs with bare feet. Taeil hadn’t checked you there, and you didn't expect Yuta to after what you'd done.

"Don't look," you say, shyness returning. "Turn around."

"Nothing I haven't seen before," he says. You sniff and turn away, feeling him watch in detached interest as you strip in front of him. 

When you struggle to find your way out of the fabric he pulls the overly large garment over your stinging arms. It hits your knees, sleeves flopping over your wrists, ridiculousness maximized as the hood is pulled up over your head to fall over your eyes. 

"Keep that up," he says. "We're going out."

You feel a bit dumbstruck, wrapped up in the warm wood and orange peel scent of the sweatshirt. "Going out?"

He rubs your head, freeing your face a bit but pulling the collar up and over your mouth, cords pulled taut over your nose "You're going to need a few more clothing options."

More gifts, you think. Delight makes you feel weightless as you shuffle for the autocar in your overlarge slippers.

"And shoes," he remarks. "Not that way. We're going down to the lower levels." He pulls you away from the carport.

You follow him, fascinated, back to the central atrium. You hadn't even noticed the elevator suite hidden under the stairwell up to the resident blocks, following him into the capsule. Its thick mirrored glass is pockmarked with age and cracked in parts, but you're immediately exposed to a view of the city that gives you vertigo. 

"Lower floors are off limits without an escort," he warns, placing his hand against the touchscreen and stroking it to select the desired floor number: 88. 

"That's still so high up," you say, heart leaping into your throat as the elevator drops you, fast, cheery music playing on the climb down.

"We don't usually use this one, but the observation deck is the hub for lower floors," he explains. The door slides open to reveal a bustling space, awash in the same orange light of the evening sun from floor-to-ceiling windows stretching out in either direction. 

Most people in the vast space ignore you but a small handful turn to look at you in slack-jawed surprise, halted mid-task from behind counters and in front of stacks of tech. 

The floor looks like an old-fashioned street stall market separated into clusters centrally around multiple elevator banks. Lounge stations for drinks and pods of gambling consoles line the edges, set against the busy skyline. 

A strange clicking noise prompts you to look up at the tech overhead, a series of turrets that deactivate when the elevator doors hiss shut behind you.

"Like I said, we don't use those very often." Yuta jokes. "Hey, Hendery." 

You follow his eyeline to a man half-asleep in a large kiosk immediately beside the elevator, his eyes widening in surprise when he sees you. You watch him drop his digital readout as if your presence is worth an exaggerated reaction.

"Well, well, Nakamoto." Hendery's expression panics as you come up to his counter and lean into it to look at the wares, each perfectly lined in LED lights to maximize the impact of their presentation.

"I don't want clothes, I want one of these," you say, pointing at a modified pistol highlighted pink. The turrets inside the caged space follow your hand, green laser sights trailing your gestures threateningly until Yuta pulls you back by your hood, tamping it down when you're back on your feet. 

"Who is she?" Hendery asks, plucking at the front of his tropical-themed shirt to air it out. You sniff experimentally, pleased to find his scent is a mixture of beta and whatever ramen he'd spilled on it, container abandoned on the scorched countertop.

"The Princess Consort of the Third Dynasty of New Goryeo," Yuta says. "She doesn't need a gun."

"Body armor, maybe?" Hendery asks, hopefully. "We just got the newest Militech exports, specially designed for exec gigs."

"We're here for something a little more subtle," Yuta says. 

Hendery seems to understand, nodding sagely as he presses a button to change out the displays, panels flipping with a pneumatic hiss to reveal an assortment of non-lethal gear. You recognize the nightstick you'd held in your hands earlier, its wrist loop dangling. 

"Good," Yuta says. "Two Horang-Hi collars and a muzzle if you have one. For her."

"Two, huh." Hendery's eyebrows raise, obviously uncomfortable as he watches you grasp onto Yuta's patterned jacket, hard nails sinking into the fabric. "The muzzle will have to be custom. Gonna need a leash?"

"You know, that's not a bad idea. Retractable preferably," Yuta says, disattaching you with a hand wrapped around your clawing fingers so he can swipe on his wrist display. "Send it up when you've got it all on hand, along with this."

He swipes over a much more comprehensive list, visible for an instant projected in the air in red text as Hendery reads through it on his display, nodding. 

"You used all of these munitions recently? You didn't give them too much trouble, did you Princess?" he asks, tone light in spite of the curious way he leans forward, winking at you. You feel yourself flush a little.  

"What's your favorite brand?" you ask, pointing lazily at the cups lined up next to his reinforced monitor.

"Oh, well, for loyal customers it's on the house," he says, handing you a paper container wrapped in a rainbow design, font almost illegible. You squint at the incomprehensible text, immediately transported back to your failed foreign language instruction.

"Water at 363 Kelvin, no longer than 150 seconds," he advises. You catch him grinning at you fully, flashing white teeth. "Hasn't this loser fed you the real thing?"

"Real thing?" You look up at your shopping partner, clutching your first prize to your chest.

"Sho-sho's. Three floors down," he says. 

Yuta sighs, heavily. 

"Can you order me a delivery? I'm just filling in, you know," Hendery bats his eyelashes, reminding you of one of those omega caricatures from a beta channel melodrama.

"You're going to be on night duty if you don't watch it, Hwang." Yuta says, something indecipherable in his expression. "Send me your order, and keep me filled in."

"Got it, boss," Hendery faux salutes, making you laugh far longer than you should as you're escorted away.

"I liked him," you say. 

"He works for us," Yuta explains. "An operative. Too bad he's lazy."

"Oh," you say, distractedly examining the constant stream of merchandise, aware that the vendors don't approach you or your companion, preferring nods or stoic acknowledgement. You catch much more of the traffic watching you, eyes boring into your back. 

You dance around for a moment, trying to see if your tail is visible under your sweatshirt, before Yuta stops you with a hand on your head.

"Stop bringing attention to yourself," he warns under his breath, pulling you into his hard chest as he brings you close. "If you're good we'll dine out."

"Promise?" you ask, voice wispy with delight.

He gives you a hint of catlike grin, letting you melt into his side. "You're so easy to please, Princess. Might want to watch it, or people will think you're an easy mark."

"Mark?" you ask. "Is that like–?"

"Quiet," he orders, before the word can slip out.

Your mouth is sealed shut by Alpha command as he pulls you down the wide corridor of the nearest stairwell. Discarded cans and bottles scatter as you're dragged, losing your shoe. 

You stumble into him when you try to hop, satisfied by his grunt of annoyance.

He carefully lets you go, retrieving your dirty slipper and lifting your knee to place it on your equally grime-stained foot. You hide the disgust long before he can look back up at you, letting a closed-lip smile take its place.

"Outside of base you should be careful with what you say," he explains, still hunched down. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

Your lip curls, but you refuse to reply.

"Cat got your tongue?" he jokes. "I said quiet, not silent."

"Same difference," you murmur, finding your words. "Don't do that."

"Do what?" he answers. "Watch out for you?"

You shudder a little when you realize he's toying with you. It's not the kind of Alpha behavior you're prepared for; your tactics will have to change.

"Do they have aestheticians here? I could use a tune before trying on clothing." To make your point you lift your leg, inspecting it for non-existent hair growth.

"Little fuzz never hurt anyone," he remarks, sliding his half-gloved palms up your calf as he stands. The feeling is electric, your body buzzing with the contact. 

"You're not trying on anything," he says.

"What?" You ask, deflated.  

"Pretty girl, you are a ticking time bomb with a scent trail that tastes like heaven. Betas are the norm here but there are other Alphas in this building. You going to fight them off yourself?"

"Thought that was your job," you say.

He laughs, harsh. "Only if you're paying. You have a credit chip with a few million hidden somewhere?"

That shuts you up organically. Everything you'd had was now in the possession of Halatus, including your mother's necklace. The drug-hazed realization that you'd never gotten it back makes your eyes burn with unshed tears. 

If Yuta notices, he doesn't acknowledge it, leading you downstairs.

"In and out, necessities only. If you're really good, dinner will be my treat."

That spurs you to action, and a little more compliance. 

You find your ways of making him suffer, if only because your fascination with the amenities provided in the seemingly endless floors distracts you every few steps. Soon he's loaded down with bags in an assortment of shapes and sizes, playing referee for your fashion choices in a way that becomes a game for you, alone. 

He's clearly exhausted by the time you reach the final stop–a lingerie store advertising a variety of scandalous options, including biomod accommodations. 

"No," he protests, lamely. 

Five minutes later he's slumped in a velvet couch with all the appearance of being asleep under a set of dark-lensed AR glasses. The shopgirl eyes you from where she's shoving scraps of fabric into an industrial UV decontaminator, judging your unkempt appearance.

"Customs are non-returnable." She says in a bored tone as you swipe at the air, using the responsive mirror to try on options at lightning speed. 

"Can I help you?"

You're surprised that she's asked, finally, but then you realize she's addressing the trio of men crowding the entrance, one of them zeroing on you right as the reek hits your nose.

Wolf. Mangy and stale, matching the physical state of the Alpha with his lank hair and grimy clothing. 

"Looking for a nice perfume for my girl," he says, yellow eyes locking with yours after glancing at the stylized catgirl avatar on the screen. 

"Body sprays are over there." She points, oblivious to what's actually going on. You sidle towards Yuta, reaching to shake him awake. Surely he's asleep. 

"Here, kitty kitty," one of the other men beckons from across a rack of latex bodysuits, sporting a sparse green mohawk. You can tell the other two are betas, unable to smell them outside of their similar lack of hygiene.

"She's a fox, moron." His tattooed partner says, nodding at the tip of your tail peeking out from under your clothing. You hide it, turning away only to remember there’s a mirror behind you. "Expensive mods, too."

"Probably some rich corpos little project," Mohawk sneers. 

The Alpha has been deadly quiet during their exchange but you haven't taken your eyes off him yet, your animal circling to put Yuta between you. The Felid still hasn't moved, except to raise a gloved hand and tap an unseen display in the direction of the ceiling.

"This your input?" Tattoo asks. 

"Nope," Yuta says, still unconcerned. The betas laugh, Mohawk slapping a mannequin so hard it almost falls to the floor.

"Not yours?" The wolf Alpha’s voice is a growl. He comes around the couch to get a better view, making you cower nearer to your useless escort. If you weren't panicking at the threat of being discovered his hand would have already been stuck in your teeth.

"I just met her today," Yuta says, lips curving to expose sharp canines as he waves at all your bags. "You know how proxies are, though. Make you work for it."

"Bleeding you dry, huh?" Mohawk says. "We can take her off your hands if she's playing you."

"Oh I think she'll put out," Yuta says, finally pulling down his sunglasses to give you a smug look. You toss your head, kicking his booted foot with your new sneaker to show your displeasure.

"We can pay you a lot more than you put in," Tattoo says. "Our buddy here is kind of stuck in a rut, if you know what I mean."

You startle, visibly. The Alpha hasn't stopped moving, and you're left with the option of backing into the mirror or climbing over Yuta and past the two betas to make a run for it.

"Not likely," Yuta says. He pulls his jacket back to reveal his wristband agent, raising it to show a green projected display you only catch a glimpse of. NSMR NCT, along with a series of numbers.

Whatever effect you'd expected it isn't the two betas immediately backing away, a heavy crash coming from Tattoo as he overturns a clothing rack.

"Fuck, sorry man—we didn't mean to bother you," Mohawk says, hands in the air.

"Why don't you grab your buddy here before he makes a scene," Yuta says over the sound of the shop girl cursing at the two men. 

Five seconds later she's screaming. 

The first few seconds, burned into your memory, involve you watching in horrific slow motion as the Alpha lunges towards you–eyes orange with the clear burn of jimseung. 

There's a pop that feels like the air has compressed outward very quickly and into a wet mist, the glass spider-webbing beside your head when the bullet buries in it. 

You can't understand what's happened until the Alpha's body follows its original velocity, pinning you against the mirror before slumping awkwardly on to your new, now red shoes. It's missing half its head, most of which has now ended up on you.

You're still processing what you've seen as the panicked shrieks follow the two betas out into the mall corridor. Yuta stands up with the same amount of nonchalance as before to re-holster his handgun, speaking into his agent.

"YTNKMT127 Reporting a feral incident and takedown at NeoTech floor 84, west quadrant. Transmitting the store security feed now."  

"Dispatch a squad to intercept witnesses. Recommend interrogation of beta parties for suspicious activity. Oh and send a clean-up crew. You can take it out of the bounty."

"I don't need to tell you to stay calm, do I, pretty girl?" Yuta uses a robe off the shelf to mop away the blood and flecks of bone and brain from your skin. 

You shake your head, trembling, feeling like your consciousness is glitching at the same frequency as the digital mirror in the corner of your vision. Even when your face is clean the blood in your nose chokes out everything else.

"That's good," he says. "First one is on the house. Lucky you, he had an outstanding warrant. Next time I'm afraid you'll be in debt. I'm sure the Syndicate won't be eager to pick up the check."     

Once he's done he picks up the bags, throwing the mass over his shoulder and giving you a bright smile. "Now you've earned your treat–"

He sucks his breath through his teeth at your response. 

"Didn’t think I’d have to tell you not to puke on the crime scene."