The kobold crew ? I just love all those funky little dragon gender guys

 RQG requests #11, FUNKY LITTLE DRAGON GENDER GUYS!!!! thank you so much for your prompt!! i’d never sat to think about their individual designs before this, and as much as i prefer to plan beforehand, it felt great to just doodle and build them as i went! this is pretty much exactly the result and vibe i wanted, so i’m very happy with this one. it’s really cute! they’re all so cute!!!!! character design is great!!

 going from top to bottom we have meerk, draal and driaak, natun and tadyka, sassraa at the center, and our guy skraak on the front. what absolute lads.

 mechanical pencil on cream paper, with digital colors.

 ID under the cut!

[ID: an illustration of all the kobolds. it's drawn with mechanical pencil on yellow paper, and is colored digitally with flat, warm colors. the style is simplistic and shows everyone in profile. they're all shown in full body, and are bunched together each posing and doing their own thing. skraak is on the front, crouched down, and sassraa is just behind them, standing up straight, at the center of the composition. natun and draal are standing out to the left from behind her, while tadyka and driaak are doing the same, but opposite them, towards the right. meerk is directly above sassraa, at the cusp of the pyramid. they are all variations of red with yellow fins, horns and eyes.

  skraak is crouching and leaning towards the right, resting his left arm on his knee, and keeping balance with their right hand on the ground. he's the biggest of all the kobolds, bright red, with a longer tail and spikier, fan-like ear-fins. he's frowning and has his eyes narrowed, with his head turned to the left but looking right. he has tight black armor on his torso and long gray cloves.

  sassraa is wearing a white lab coat and goggles. her fins are spiky and pointing diagonally upwards, making them look like cel. she's facing left and is looking right, with her left arm behind her back, and her right holding a test tube up to her face. she's smiling softly.

  behind her and stepping towards the left is natun. they're small and reach to about sassraa's chest. they're leaning forwards and have syringe spear on their right hand, and are wearing plain leather armor on their torso. they have a shorter, snubby snout, small horns that curl like a ram's, and two sets of ear fins, which give them a more aquatic look. they have an attentive, eager face and look younger than the rest.

   above them is draal. they're wearing a fur-lined, dark brown coat and are holding a fang on their right hand, holding it in front of their face with a big grin. their horns and fins are sharp and short, pointing backwards in spikes.

   opposite natun is tadyka. she's a slim, lanky kobold, standing with a bit of a stoop. they're holding a syringe spear in both claws, in front of them. she has a long, less angular snout, and her fins are split into two horizontally. they have plain leather armor. her horns are short and slightly curved forwards.

   above her and opposite draal is driaak. they're as tall as draal, and are also wearing a fur-lined coat for the cold. theirs is white with light brown fur, anf they're a dark maroon rather than red. their horns are very small, and their fins are wider towards the top. they're stepping forwards and have a left claw up to their eyes, looking into the distance with a cheery smile.

   behind them all is meerk. his body is facing right but he is yelling upwards, sticking his tongue with a grin out and holding drumsticks on each claw. they have a black headband around their heard, spiky bracelets on their right arm, dark gray gloves, and a shiny leather vest. they're bright red, their fins are short and spiky, and their horns are shaped like lightning bolts. his tail pokes out from behind draal in a curl, and the tip of it is a small spiky ball, like a morning star. end ID]

For One More Hour or One More Day

Dukeceit Week Day 6: Horror/Comedy

Remus and Janus work in IT, and Remus never fails to make Janus' life a bit more exciting than it should be. Janus wouldn't have it any other way.

AO3 Link: [here]

Word Count: 1416

Warnings: swearing, typical Remus-levels of implied sexual content. 

@dukeceitweek <3

-

[06032021 Network Node Down- 172.12.203.1 - Dee Why ]

Janus stared at the next ticket in his queue. He didn't even have to look at which tech wrote it. He just knew. He picked up his phone and dialed. 

“'Sup, DeeDee?" 

"Because they use ancient technology and refuse to upgrade, that's why." 

There was a beat of silence on the line. Janus didn't need to see him to know Remus was grinning like a maniac. 

“Oh, JD, I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about," Remus said finally. His voice was laced with barely-contained glee. 

“Uh-huh, sure," Janus replied dryly. He watched on his screen as an incoming call diverted from his in-use line. "Do you want to clarify for me, in excruciating detail, what, exactly, it is that broke this time? After all, if it's something I can fix from here, it would save the company an awful lot of money. And you know how I love saving this company money." 

“You don't feel like taking work calls either, huh?" 

“Ree, I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."

-

[06142021 CRITICAL | Device failed Availability and Latency checks - Dispatch Requested]

Janus sat in his truck for a few minutes, cross-checking the address across his e-mail, Slack, and the ticket itself. And yeah, they all matched. This wasn’t a repeat of that time Remus had changed the address on the ticket from 96th St. to 69th St. as a joke. 

(Janus had almost gotten mugged. He was still a little salty about that one.)

But this time, all the addresses matched. The problem was, he was parked in front of a restaurant instead of the usual office building, and that just didn’t seem right. He opened up Slack on his phone. 

Janus D’lyre: Are you sure the address is right?

Remus Rey: Yeah, it’s right.

Janus D’lyre: It’s a restaurant. 

Remus Rey:  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Janus D’lyre: Are you positive it’s right?

Remus Rey: I just write the tickets, Dee, I don’t do a background check. Just go in.

Janus sighed. He got out of his truck, hefted his tech bag over his shoulder, and went inside.

It was a nice restaurant. Very fancy, with a goddamn chandelier hanging over the front lobby. Field engineers weren’t required to dress in a suit and tie, but Janus did by habit- and he was glad he did, because he would feel like a horrible slob standing here in jeans and a polo.

“Can I help you?”

Janus looked over to the host, standing at the counter with a bright smile that only looked 52% faked.

“Yes,” Janus answered. “I’m here about the network issues?”

“Oh!” The host- his name tag read ‘Patton’- brightened up a bit. “Yeah! Remus is waiting for you, this way!”

“Remus is what?”

It was too late. Patton had already darted around the counter and off into the dining area. Janus sighed and, regretting every life choice leading up to this exact moment, followed.

Sure enough, Remus was waiting for him. Patton led him to a quieter area of the restaurant, where Remus was sitting at a table. Well, sitting was a generous way to phrase it, because in reality, he was tipped back on the rear two legs of the chair, combat boot-clad feet up on the table. He jumped up eagerly at the sight of Janus, and somehow managed not to fall backwards and crack his skull open. 

“Hey! You made it! Thanks, Pat!” 

“No problemo!” the host replied with a grin before heading back to the front counter. Janus briefly considered that he might be having a fever dream right now.

“Remus, what the fuck?” 

“Told you it was the right address!”

Janus glared. “That is not what I’m ‘what the fuck’-ing you about.”

“I mean, I’d prefer me fucking you-”

“Remus.”

“Well, you work so hard, DeeDee,” Remus said calmly, as if he wasn’t standing in the middle of the fanciest restaurant on this side of town, dressed in his usual tank-top and leather vest combo and probably mashing dirt into the plush red carpet, and definitely doing something that should get him fired. “I thought you could take a break, and we could have a nice dinner.”

No, he wasn’t doing something that should get him fired. He was doing something that should get them both fired. 

“You’re joking, right?”

“Kinda a lame joke.”

“Remus, you had me dispatched to a random address for a fake problem, to have dinner with you on company time?”

“‘Course not, who do you think I am?”

Janus did not dignify that with an answer. He turned to walk away.

“Jannie, wait!” Remus darted around the table to get in front of him. Janus stopped, and glared. “This is Roman’s restaurant! It’s not a random address, he’s an actual client.”

Janus’ glare lessened. Ok, sure, they did have some smaller commercial clients. And sure, Remus had mentioned his brother’s restaurant was using them as tech support now after a bad experience with a different company. But- “It’s still a fake problem, Remus.”

A shit-eating grin spread across Remus’ face. “Nah. I unplugged the router.”

Janus snorted in a totally dignified manner. “You didn’t.”

“I did.”

“...Well, I suppose… I’d better investigate the issue. Couldn’t be solved remotely, hardware problem and all.”

Remus held out a hand. Janus took it, and let Remus lead him back to the table.

“Great, cause I already ordered!”

-

[06192021 Switch is problematic. Unable to get into the switch || Serial No. 111-0203-2018]

Janus very calmly cleared the ticket, set his work phone to away, pulled out his personal phone, and sent Remus a text. 

Jannie-D: I know you’re upset I didn’t let you fuck me last night. Get over it. 

Remster: i will not 

- 

Virgil Caligo: yo are u and remus like good?

Janus D’lyre: We had a small argument last night. Why?

Virgil Caligo: [image attached]

Janus sighed. Virgil had sent him a screenshot of a ticket update Remus had just posted.

[06292021 Ticket #00679 Update.] ‘The device is not only unresponsive to simple ping requests, but is being kind of a jerk about it. 100% package loss, a tragedy. Device was confirmed to be connected to a working power source, but they all say that, so who can really be sure. Dispatch requested, please confirm maintenance window. Actually showing up would be great, too.’

Janus hastily typed a message to Virgil. 

Janus D’lyre: Did you take that one?

Virgil Caligo: ya. logan didnt see dw

Janus D’lyre: Thanks. You can transfer it to me, I’ll take care of it. 

Janus leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples. What a comedy of errors this day had been. It was the last time he’d forget he and Remus had a date night planned, that’s for sure. 

- 

Remus sighed when a priority ticket popped up in his queue. He was having a grand time ignoring his other queues in favor of sculpting a rather elaborate dick out of the green Play-Doh he kept at his desk, but he really did not feel like getting bitched out by Logan for missing a priority ticket. Grumbling to himself, he stuffed the Play-Doh back into its tub and opened the ticket. 

[06292021 Ticket #00679 Update.] ‘Likely a hardware bug. Possible remote fix with reset and reconfigure. Device information missing from online records. Please check file and update record.’ 

Fuck. Remus hated pulling files. What a pain. He trudged his way upstairs to the records room, which was always dark and depressing because nobody ever went there because who the fuck used physical paper in 2021?

But when he unlocked the door and pushed it open, the light was on. And every surface was covered in flowers.

“What the fuck?” Remus asked the flowers. They didn’t answer. But, at the small desk near the door, there was a stack of green boxes from his favorite bakery- and on top of that, he saw an envelope with his name on it. Eagerly, Remus tore open the envelope. 

Inside, he found a single sheet of Janus’ fancy stationery paper, the kind with the little holographic snakes along the edge that he only ever used for special occasions. And on that paper, one single sentence, penned in Janus’ elegant, flourishy handwriting: Ok, you can fuck me tonight.

- - -

[06292021 Ticket #00679 Update.] ‘I take it back, the device is no longer being a jerk, and I love the device very much.’ 

Amoreena | Chapter fourteen

Chapter fourteen

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Warnings: talks of spencers major anxiety, parental death tw (not Diana or bob and Linda), trauma talks, computer hacking and new members joining the family...

word count: 4k

from the beginning <3

Taylors biggest surprise that weekend was what she had planned for Amoreena that night.

She set up a fort in the theatre room, they had every snack imaginable and any movie of her choice to watch. Karaoke in the corner, popcorn being popped in a theatre-style machine, and 3 different, matching child and adult, princess dresses for them to choose from.

It was all an elaborate plan to keep her preoccupied until bedtime, which Taylor offered to handle so that her parents could have a little wedding night date alone.

They’re all ready for a wonderful night when Spencer’s phone started ringing.

“Hello?” Spencer answers, sneaking away from the girls so he could hear better.

“Spencer, I am so sorry to interrupt you this late, but we have a situation… it’s not something that should be discussed over the phone. Do you have someone to watch Amoreena while you and Y/N come into the bureau? As soon as you can?”

His stomach drops, he feels instantly sick. “Not until you tell me who’s dead, who’s dying or who’s trying to kill us.”

“No one is, Spencer, it’s not a case or criminal related, it’s… personal, someone is here to see you,” she sounds serious and Spencer is still just as worried.

“I’ll tell the girls,” he responds before hanging up.

Y/N is standing right behind him, listening with wide eyes as she waits to soothe his panic. They worked like a well-oiled machine, she could physically feel his anxiety and in return, something about her just being there made him physically feel better.

“What’s wrong?” Taylor asks as she appears behind Y/N, Amoreena now off changing into one of the dresses she picked.

“They won't tell me on the phone but they need me and Y/N back at Quantico as soon as possible,” Spencer explained with a pale face, “we can go in the morning.”

“I’m fine watching Amoreena for the night, there’s a hanger down the road with a few of my dad’s planes, I can have someone take you to Virginia within the next hour? It's only 7 pm, I’m sure you can be back before bedtime?” Taylor offered her services for the 100th time that day, “It’s not a problem, really, and they wouldn’t call if it wasn’t serious, they’re the FBI after all.”

With that, they said goodbye to Amoreena and told her they’d be back before she woke up in the morning. If not, she had Y/N’s cellphone for the night to call them before she goes to sleep and when she wakes up, so she won't bother Taylor that early. (Even though Taylor said she wouldn’t mind early morning Amoreena cuddles.)

He was anxious on the drive to the small airport, the old man named Norman, chartering them that night was incredibly kind, they were granted lading access in Quantico and before he could prepare, they were up in the air. He chatted up a storm with Y/N on the headset radio as Spencer overthought the upcoming chat with JJ and stared out at the world below them.

On queue, he jumped from anxious to scared when they land, before getting in the shuttle from the airstrip to the front entrance, but he’s so incredibly terrified when it comes time to actually start the walk to the bullpen.

“Will you come in with me?” His small voice asks as she is pinning a visitors tag on her shirt.

“Of course,” she smiled, taking his hand as they walked into the elevator together.

He grips her hand tighter as the elevator stops, dipping and returning to the right height and making his stomach drop the same way a rollercoaster would. He hated that feeling more than anything, having it alongside the anxiety wasn’t helpful.

He can see JJ and another girl sitting together at his old desk. She’s smiling at whatever JJ says, she looks exactly like Amoreena just with box-dyed black hair that shines purple under the lighting. She’s in all black, she pushes her glasses up her nose with her sweater hiding her hands, Spencer knows she’s a foster kid from just her posture.

“JJ,” Spencer makes their presence clear and the little girl turns to him with a huge smile, running to him and wrapping her arms around his waist. “Hi?”

She’s sobbing ten and he doesn’t know why or even who she is, he lightly holds her with complete shock on his face. He stares at JJ with wide eyes and a gaping mouth as he communicates the confusion and terror with his eyes.

“This is Josephine Elliot, or Jo as she likes to be called, her parents passed away a few months ago and she recently found out her biological father was actually a sperm donor and not her moms husband,” JJ explains a little before sighing and sitting on the edge of the desk.

“She hacked into the sperm bank and found your name, and google led her to the FBI and they stopped her at the second gate, the first only let her in thinking she was your other daughter, Amoreena.”

“I’m so sorry,” the poor girl wipes her tears with her sweater sleeves, “I don’t know why I hugged you when you don’t even know me, ew sorry.”

Spencer pulls her back into a hug, “it’s okay, you don’t have to worry about wanting a hug ever again. You can have whatever you need from me.”

She cries more, holding on to his shirt as he holds her, shushing her softly and rubbing his hand over her back. It’s weird how safe she seems this early in their acquaintance with one another, but he understands it. She’s so desperate for someone related to her to love her again, to replace what she was missing from her parents, that she’s already accepted him as a father without thinking it through. Without even know what he would be like to her.

When she finally calmed down enough, Spencer led her towards the briefing room so they could have a moment alone to talk. He wanted to know her, and she needed to know him before she made another big decision. He let her know who he was, what he used to do and the rundown on his relationship with Y/N and Amoreena.

“So you met her at the park and got married a week later because you both have dead exes and somehow through fate, you made a kid together?” She summed it up in a way that made it sound ridiculous.

“Mutual trauma is a great bonding tool, I’m sure you probably listen to rock music or anything sad and angry because you know someone feels the exact same way you do? I was like that when I was a teenager. We've both lost someone we loved and then made Amoreena out of pure luck,” he combated her snarky summary with his own profile of her.

“I actually like Taylor Swift, Paramore, Evanescence and Olivia Rodrigo when I need to scream about being sad, thank you very much,” she teased him, finding a very easy rhythm as they got to know one another.

“You’re going to lose your mind when you find out who’s with Amoreena right now,” Spencer smiles, somehow everything just fits together.

“What?” She looks so confused, scrunching her face the same way he did to push her glasses up without her hands.

“It’s a long story, but essentially we were at Taylor Swift’s house when JJ called, she’s watching Amoreena still,” Spencer explained, watching her jaw drop.

“Who the fuck are you, dude?” She whispered, and it took Spencer by surprise. “Sorry, I’m so used to swearing in front of adults lately to get my point across. But seriously, you’re so interesting…”

“Understandable,” Spencer laughs lightly at her strange compliment. “I have a lot of connections, and I’ll do anything to see the people I love, smile, that includes you now.”

“You barely know me and you’re just ready to accept that I’m your kid? Didn’t this just happen to you last week?” She laughs at the insanity of it all, “you’re going to have a million kids at this rate, dude.”

Again, she calls him dude and he knows she’s just trying to distance her emotions as they grow fonder and fonder. A coping mechanism so that she doesn’t get hurt anymore, she’s lost too much and she’s not going to love him just to lose him too.

“My dad ran out on me when I was a kid, I basically raised myself when my mom’s schizophrenia got bad, I know what it’s like to feel alone even when you’re with people who are supposed to love you,” he makes sure she knows who he is inside.

“I’m sorry,” she reaches a hand out for him, holding it softly. “I never really liked my dad growing up, he always felt off… I can’t explain it, but he was never the same guy twice he was either angry, miserable or scarily happy," she explains him and all Spencer can think is how he sounds like an unsub.

"I do miss my mom a lot, I didn’t know what else to do when I found out they couldn’t have babies together and she went to a Sperm bank without telling him. I know the names of your other kids too, besides Amoreena, I’m really surprised you found her mom without hacking the system too but, yeah, Dylan is 6 and Alice is 10, they’re both in DC with the same 2 mom’s, so if you didn’t want me, I was going to see if they would cause I’m technically their stepdaughter in a weird way and if I spent one more day in that foster home I would have ended it all,” it's a Reid rant, she's his for sure.

It takes him a minute to absorb it all, “wait, Amoreena is mine for sure?”

She nods like it’s a stupid question, “could you not tell my just looking at her? The 3 of us have the same face.”

“No, they wouldn’t tell us at the clinic,” Spencer is still in shock but more so that she got into the database so easily, “how did you do it?”

“It was easy, I had all the information about the sample my mom used so I just encrypted an email to the secretary of the sperm bank so as soon as she clicked the link to read more I’d have access to her computer, they didn’t even know I was in the system, they probably still don’t know I was there,” she explains it exactly how Penelope would.

“I don’t want you to think I’d ever not want you,” Spencer holds her hand a little tighter, “I’m not sure what the process will be like trying to get the foster agency to agree to me taking you home with us, but I’ll see what I can do. We have a big house and enough room for you in our hearts if this is where you’d like to be. I’m not saying it’ll be easy, you might hate the farm life and the isolation and all the cousins you now have, but you’re a piece of me and I’m not letting you go.”

She uses her free hand to wipe her tears on her sleeve again, “please, I know it’s not going to be the same but I miss having a family so much.”

He wraps her up in his arms, he knows the feeling all too well. One day his mom was there, the next day she was gone and no one prepared him for that. She never had to do this alone, Spencer wasn’t going to let that happen to her.

“Y/N is wonderful, you’ll love her and Amoreena. We live on a huge farm and there’s a lot to do during the day and people to spend time with, believe me, you’re going to feel so surrounded by the love you won’t know what to do with it all,” he shares from personal experience.

“Okay,” she hugged him tighter, pressing her face into his neck as he talked more, feeling the vibrations of his voice on her forehead to know that he was real. That his words were true and she was going to be taken care of.

“Is there anything about yourself that you’d like me to know? Or any questions you have? I’m sure this is going to be an interesting adjustment,” Spencer asked as he pulled away, looking down into her sweet eyes and seeing the hope she was still hanging on to.

“Is Y/N even okay with all of this? It’s her house isn’t it?”

“I’m sure she’ll be fine with it, she knew I had you and the other 2 out there somewhere, we just never expected to meet you so soon,” he’s as honest as possible, talking to her the same way he would with Henry, she seemed even more mature than him.

“Can she come in here too? I’d like to get to know her as well, see if she’s really as lovely as you say she is,” she smiled, coping with her trauma the same way he and Y/N did, with humour.

Almost like Y/N could feel him thinking about her, she knocked on the door before opening it a crack, “sorry, I have some updates,” she smiled.

Josephine smiled at her, “come in.”

Y/N sat down close to her and placed her hand on her shoulder, “my sister is a foster parent, she called her caseworker and they were able to rush the emergency next of kin paperwork, you can stay with us for as long as you would like to.”

“You’re serious? You barely know me?” She kept repeating that as if she convinced herself earlier in the day that they wouldn’t want to know her.

Y/N wrapped her up in a soft hug and Spencer saw all the tension leave Josephines body as she settled against her. It had been a long time since a mother held her, she didn’t realize how much she needed it until she was in her arms.

“You’re half Spencer, so by default you have a portion of my heart now too. I’m not going to love you as an obligation or because I feel like I have to, I love you because you’re part of him and our family,” she whispers into her hair, “I know what it’s like to be alone, you never have to be... unless we’re smothering you then I get it, but you know what I mean.”

She laughed in Y/N’s arms before pulling back. Y/N held her face in her hands and looked at her gently. She ran her fingers through her dyed hair, “you’re going to fit right in with the 4 of us.”

“Four?” She repeats, wondering who else they lived with.

“I’m pregnant,” Y/N smiles as Josephine lights up.

“I’ve always wanted to be a big sister,” she cried a little, “my mom named me after Jo from Little Women, she said she always planned to give me lots of sisters.”

“If this one is a girl she’ll be Eleonora like—“

“Like the poem, Edgar Allan Poe is one of my favourites,” Jo smiled again.

Somehow, without even being there, Amoreena’s mess of glitter glue was able to patch her older sister's broken heart right then and there too.

“I read really fast, my mom said she was going to go bankrupt buying books for me,” she opened up more and more, the hurt of the memories fading as she remembered them with happiness instead of mourning.

Her mom was gone, but the love of a mother filled her space once more. Y/N took her under her wing, keeping her warm and making sure he grew to be as happy healthy and wonderful as all her other babies.

—

They arrive at Taylor's door once again at 11:30. Amoreena is sound asleep in the spare room, not even able to change out of her princess costume or phone them to say goodnight. Taylor said she had a sugar crash and just asked to go to sleep, reminding Taylor that she had the best day ever before closing her tired little eyes.

Jo was very anxious to meet Taylor too, telling her a similar story to Y/N’s from just a few hours prior. Taylor made sure she was comfortable for the night in another spare room, making her a hot chocolate and some snacks from earlier that day at lunch. She was the best host, a wonderful friend and an even better honorary godparent to these girls of Spencer’s.

“Can I have a hug?” She sheepishly asks before she has to turn down the hall to her bedroom for the night.

Spencer answers by wrapping his arms around her and holding her close to his chest once more, he wasn’t sure how his heart could hold so much love for these girls, and still have room left to make more one day. It was a dream come true to have a family this big, no one was going to believe that he gained 3 kids and a wife in under a month.

He kissed her on the forehead gently, seeing her smile at the contact let him know it was fine. “Goodnight dad,” she whispers, pressing her lips together awkwardly the same way he did before turning down the hall and disappearing into her room.

She had only a backpack of things currently, not expecting everything to go as smoothly as it did. She had enough clothes to sleep in, and Taylor happily provided some old tour perch to her just in case she needed something new to wear. Something to help her ease to sleep that didn’t feel like she was going back to her old life in the morning.

Amoreena was going to have a field day tomorrow when she met her big sister, the beautiful girl who was busy covering her scars with bandaids provided by Spencer, but it would take a lot of time, effort and care to make her feel truly healed again. It was going to be interesting seeing Amoreena adjust to sharing him so early, especially since he knew Jo would need so much more attention to ease her anxiety moving forward.

Spencer sat on the guest bed beside Y/N, noticing all the rose petals and candles on the dresser and night tables, “oh she really had a lot planned for us.”

“She’s the fairy godmother of our dreams,” Y/N agreed with a laugh. “I don’t mind staying up late tonight if you don’t mind leaving on Monday instead?”

“I was going on suggest the same thing,” he smiled at her, leaning in to press their lips together gently for the first time since the wedding that afternoon.

“let's get into our comfy’s and go for a walk on the beach, Taylor left me the keys to lock up when we come back,” she whispered the words against his lips before smiling.

“Can I call Derek before we go? I really need to talk to him,” he’s honest with her as he pulls away, feeling really anxious and shook up at the events of the day. He needed his best friend.

“Yeah, I’ll go check out the rest of the guest house, come find me when you’re done?” She says softly, getting off the bed with a smile and stepping out of the room with a small wave.

He takes his phone out and dials the number, waiting with the phone pressed against his ear as it rings. Again and again, every new hum in his ear making his heart beat faster, “hello?” He’s finally rescued.

“Have you talked to anyone on the team lately?”

“Who died?” It was everyone’s go-to question when they got a phone call like this one.

“No one, quite the opposite actually—“

“She’s pregnant!” Derek shouts, cutting him off and Spencer can hear Savannah asking who from the background.

“Well, yeah, but that’s not why I'm calling,” Spencer replies only to be met with Derek's laughter.

“Penny and I had a bet on how long it would take.”

“She cheated because she knew we were trying,” Spencer takes the fun from him, Penelope always won. “I have another kid.”

“I know man, birth is so cool— well I’m telling him anyway,” Derek is clearly talking to Savannah and him at the same time, “we’re pregnant again too.”

“No, Derek, I’m pregnant and sick as hell while you’re perfectly fine,” she snaps back at him as she takes the phone. “You better be so kind to her Doctor Spencer Reid; rub her feet, make her breakfast, thank every god on earth and the ground she walks on for being willing to make another version of you, do you hear me?”

“Yes ma’am,” Spencer hold back a laugh, wondering when Y/N would have a hormonal switch like that, “but I didn’t mean the one in her stomach, another fully formed human of my creation walked into the BAU looking for me today.”

There’s a rustling through the phone as Derek takes it back from her, “what the fuck did you just say?”

“Her name is Jo, she’s exactly a month younger than Henry and her parents died 7 months ago,” he continues without even repeating the last part, “Derek I have 3 kids now and I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Where are you right now?”

“In Taylor Swift's guest house.”

“Spencer, be serious with me, are you doing drugs again?"

“Ask Penelope, she contacted Portia, Rossi’s stepdaughter, who contacted Taylor so I could help Y/N and Amoreena meet her, then JJ called and made us fly all the way to Quantico and now I have 2 children living with me and one on the way. Not to mention, child 1 is extremely jealous about sharing me with people and hasn’t even gotten accustomed to being a big sister, and child 2 is so traumatized she hacked the fucking sperm bank and explained it to me like it was as easy as making a sandwich. I am in over my head here, Derek.”

“Okay, that sounded more like Spencer Reid,” Derek’s calm and happy voice calms him slightly and prompts him to take a deep breath. “If she’s able to hack she’s most likely like Penelope, we can introduce them. She’ll need someone who understands the loss of a parent. Amoreena, on the other hand, you need to spend a day with just her. Take her to the movies, or to see a play or something. Let her know she’s always going to be your little girl no matter how many siblings she gets.”

“Thank you, I needed someone who wasn’t my overly optimistic wife to tell me if I could do it,” he’s overly honest, Derek is his person and will always be his person.

“I get it, thanks for calling me, I’m really glad you’re okay,” he can hear Derek's smile and all he wants is a hug from him. “How was the wedding?”

“Good, we all cried a lot,” he laughs then, “we were supposed to have a big dinner on the beach before we got called into Quantico, so I’m going to go spend time with her now, I love you, Derek,” he rushes the words out so he doesn’t get overly emotional.

“I love you too, Spencer, have a good night,” Derek hands up before they both get too emotional. They always had a knack for making the other cry in times like this.

He lets out a deep sigh before tossing his phone on the bedside table. 3 of his 5 kids were here with him and Y/N now, safe and sound. If anyone else needed him, they could wait.

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187

@k-k0129

Sound Proof

okay so this fic was from Wattpad and I found it in my google docs so I’m just gonna upload it here for ya’ll lol. I didn’t tag, I wrote this a while ago let me know what ya’ll think!!!

Warnings: Smut.

With dancing, came immense concentration and a lot of cardio.

That was all okay for Damara. She wore her silk pressed hair back into a pony, simple Polo Ralph Lauren hat on to keep her edges slicked back, high waist thin grey leggings, all white cropped tank, and matching white Vans. Damara held onto the aluminum double bar Ballet barre, studying her glistening reflection within the wall mirrors that covered every single area from floor to ceiling. 

Her chest rose and fell, right hand coming up to rub sweat off the tip of her nose. She had thirty minutes down, only twenty more to go. Being a pro dancer was fun when you posted tutorials on Instagram and YouTube, but when it came down to touring internationally and getting a chance to perform at Coachella, dance became a full time job.

Damara stares down at her version three iWatch, allowing herself to become consumed with the breathing app. She watched it expand with every breath, then declined whenever she exhaled. After her breathing returned to normal, Damara pulled up her iTunes playlist again, choosing to go sensual with a little bit of flash dance routine.

The instrumental to Kendrick Lamar- Love.

This song was always a warm up for her because it got her ‘in the mood’. She could feel the want and need behind the beat and his words. Damara snakes her hands up her frame, sliding slowly from the cuff of her ass, to her lower back, and lightly up and over her shoulders, forearms pressing into her large D cup breasts. 

One thing is for sure, Damara could move her torso like Shakira, body rolling and ticking to the beat with perfect harmony. Doing a sudden spin on her tiptoes, Damara Lowers herself to the polished flooring, arching her back off of the surface with her legs spread into a V, before lifting her lower half off the ground to do a series of air kicks like she was back in an 80s workout video or like she was in Kanye West’s video for Fade instead of Teyana Taylor.

She turned over onto her hands, hitting a side to side split perfectly before lifting from the ground to walk seductive and tantalizing towards the middle of the dance studio.

That’s where it began, the sweatiest most bewitching dance yet. Her hands cascade everywhere, eyes closed to take in the beat with heightened hearing. Her hands rubbed along the outline of her pussy in a teasing manner. Damara was so shameless when it came to dancing provocatively. She twirled and made an S with her body like a snake, body in sync to the beat. The sultry look in her eyes could trap you like Medusa. You would think she danced to one of Prince's songs from the outside looking in. 

The song came to an end, Damara lifting her shirt over her head and tossing it in the corner, picking up her gallon water bottle to take a huge sip. She wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand, feeling the burn in her curvy waistline from all the crunching and belly rolling that came with dancing. Her gluteal muscles were on fire as well, causing Damara to admire her ass in the mirror, sweat staining the crack of her ass over the fabric. 

—

Finishing up, Damara grabs all her things before leaving the dance studio at the gym she finally snagged a membership for. The gym had two sections: one for premium guests who had VIP access to the soundproof workout rooms or standard. Sadly, Damara was standard. She always wanted to workout in the soundproof tinted glass rooms like all the extremely fit individuals did, but one look through those glasses at the equipment housed within would make you withdraw with fear. Her personal trainer had stressed for her to go VIP, bribing her with access to the ice bath room and luxury pool where you can watch the LA skyline like you’re in a hotel.

She made a left at the end of the hall, walking with her shirt and towel over her shoulder to the main gymnasium area full of musky people and terrible workout music. Even though Damara did a one hour session of dancing, she couldn’t help but to gravitate towards the stair master for a good fifteen minute burn. Once there, Damara climbs the stairs, beginning her workout on nine speed, instantly feeling the ache. Her eyes scanned the area, finally landing on a group of women huddled around one of the sound proof workout rooms for VIP gold card members. 

She let out a tired chuckle, shaking her ponytail clad head before pausing to drink some water. Of COURSE they would all salivate over some random ass man instead of working out, because that’s what gyms are for these days. On queue every day Damara comes to the gym, once the clock strikes 8 pm, a hoard of women suffocate the glass, fogging it with their heavy breathing and wetting it with saliva from their wiggling tongues. Damara would have been one of them if she listened to her group of girlfriends who didn’t come in tonight. Supposedly, there is this fine ass man that comes to the gym every day, around 8 pm. Damara never seems to catch him, and even if she did, no man was that fine to act like a hyena over. He couldn’t be that sexy.

“Ooo, girl, let me get off this got damn treadmill he back again!” Damara turned to find a short, slim, mocha skinned girl with a track runners body ogling the group of women, her friend who looked like she could be her sister, biting her lip.

“I wonder if he’s doing the pull ups right now, fuckk. You know his dick stay hard when he working out.” 

The other girl laughs, “I just want to suck it. Just give me one good time!” 

Both women laughed while Damara tries her best to work out and ignore them. But to her surprise, she couldn’t focus. Not because of the talking, but because she wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Maybe after this she could rub it in her friends faces that whoever this guy was, wasn’t about the hype after all.

Defeated, Damara stopped her workout, quickly lowering herself off the machine and towards some spray and paper towels to wipe away her sweat. Tossing everything, Damara makes her way towards the sound proof workout room straight across from the men’s locker room. 

Here she was, and yet just a few minutes ago she was laughing to herself at how ridiculous it was to come to a gym and stare at a man for two hours. Wasn’t no man fine enough for that.

The glass window straight ahead had about seven ladies standing in front of it, whispering and admiring at what looked like absolutely nothing to Damara. It was so dark she couldn’t see a thing. As she got closer, at first, all she could see through that glass was the usual workout machines of all types and weight racks. Just before she could walk away, he started lifting those weights. Suddenly, as if pulled by some type of force field, Damara turned into a fan girl with glossy eyes and a watery mouth. He had to be the one her friends were talking up. There is no way he couldn’t be the one with how fine he is. 

“This must be your first time noticing Erik.” 

Damara turned to the lady who looked to be twice her age standing next to her.

Damara didn’t respond, she simply looked back at him through that tinted glass. He was so fucking sexy that her jaw dropped; literally. Erik was definitely the one her friends were juiced up over. Not the juice you drink, but the drip from that pussy when she hungry for a nigga as damn fine as he is. 

Erik had been bench pressing weights and she couldn’t get a good enough look at him until he lowered the weights. Yeah, when he was laid out on his back, sweaty muscles moving as he lifted 280 pounds over his head he looked good, but GOD once he stood up was she slapped with his looks.

Erik was wearing sweat shorts that dropped low around his waist, a damp sweat top and a pair of Nike Air Max Trainer 1s on his feet.

His braided back dreads were damp from the perspiration; it really set off his caramel complexion.

Erik returned his weights to their respective places and stood facing that mirror with a bottle of gatorade. Damara could really see how perfect he was. Fine wasn’t even the word, it was so much she could say about him. The look in his eyes, the way his muscles moved in conjunction with him, the smoothness of his skin, the hairstyle that compliments him very well, and let’s not forget those lips. She figured he got many compliments on his lips, as beautiful and suckable as they were. That thick erection he was sporting was an added bonus. All she could see was herself lowering onto it and rocking like crazy, like she was riding a horse. When she returned to reality from her lustful daze, she noticed her hands were flat against the glass, jaw STILL dropped, and her nipples tender and hard practically clawing at him. They were so hard that they were hurting, and the feeling of his lips pulling and sucking and licking on them would have been exactly what she needed, just pull her shirt down and suck em.

All of that talk and fantasizing in her head, ironically made his eyes meet hers. Damara swore she thought those big, dark eyes could see her and only her. The lady she ignored next to her smiled, like she knew what Damara was going through. She did, that’s why her and the others were still there.

——

Feeling a little foolish and embarrassed by her behavior, Damara asked the lady next to her if Erik could see them or was it one of those half way windows.

“Girl, he can see us alright. That’s why his dick is so big and hard poking through those shorts. He sees something he likes.” 

Damara looked back at him, and right then like a spark had been ignited, he smiled a little at her with dimples, then winked before downing the rest of his gatorade. Damara could feel her knees buckle, body so nervous. She decided it was most definitely time to bounce. That night, Damara never told her girls about seeing the living legend, but she did go back the following day, a Wednesday, to stare him down at that window again. She purposely went there alone to have him to herself. It was crazy how obsessed he became.

——

After about a week or so of admiring Erik through that glass, Damara decided to take it up a notch and use the adjoining women’s workroom; yeah, like she could actually bench press any of the equipment in there. Getting into that women’s workroom meant that she had to become a gold member. The upgrade was about 20 dollars more, which landed her to about 80 dollars a month; great.

She felt like she’d been walking the yellow brick road to the emerald city. Opening those double glass doors to her new sanctuary,  she could smell musk no longer, only fresh air and a cool breeze. The music was even better in there, sicko mode playing low through the speakers. It was approximately 7:50 pm, so she knew Erik would be arriving soon. 

At about 8:15, a little later than usual, Erik pulled open the doors and walked into the men’s workroom. He had his dreads crinkled and messy, a pair of Beats solo 3 in black with gold trim over his ears, black Nike pro training top that clung to his body like it was two sizes too small, matching black shorts that hung low on his hips with the waistband of his compression pants peeking through. He hadn’t immediately seen Damara on the other side since she was in the corner tugging on the pull ropes that she couldn’t make budge. She didn’t really know what to do. If she popped out of nowhere near that window, she could scare him to death, and he’d be mad. He looked like the no nonsense type too. 

Damara decided that hiding wouldn’t fix anything so she came out into the open to do some yin yoga poses that helped stretch her body. Sitting Indian style, she started with the butterfly, bending forward while gripping her shoes. The stretch made her moan, all the tension in her back disappearing. Next, she decided on the dragon, bringing one foot forward in a low lunge, stretching out her glutes and back again. Admiring herself, she liked the way her ass looked in the tinted mirror, and apparently so did Erik. Her heart dropped to her stomach like she’d been on the tallest roller coaster, her eyes reverting towards the ground. Damara could feel his eyes on her still as she lifted from the ground, rolling her neck. With one hand on the back of her neck to stretch the muscles, her eyes met his again. That same slight smile graced his face again, almost innocent, but those eyes were dark and sultry, like hot coal.

The heat turned down just a little, Erik walking away leaving Damara a flustered mess.

——

He started out with a little cross training. Damara watched from her workout mat in between doing crunches. Next, he pumped a little iron. She noticed how he enjoyed admiring himself when he lifted weights. The veins in his arms would bulge so much it looked like they wanted to break the surface of his skin. She could see his mouth slightly opened, concentration set in his features, and she just knew he was making those grunting, straining noises that guys make when they workout. Watching those muscles flex and bulge like that made her weak in the knees again. She liked the feeling. When he lay on his back to do the leg lifts, that’s when she lost it in a major way. The weight Damara had in her hand to do Russian twists fell down on her shoulder. She screamed out without even knowing it. All she could feel was pain beginning to throb in her left shoulder, and she laid back on the floor massaging it with a whimper. Unfortunately, at that time Erik was the last thing on her mind. When Damara got enough nerve to look at the window, Erik was pressed against it looking at her. He mouthed to her since it was sound proof, “You aight, Lil Mama?”

After Damara figured out his words, she nodded and gave him the okay symbol with a tired smile. Erik stares at her for a few seconds, scanning her frame in that PUMA workout suit she decided to wear, then moved on to the leg machine again. Damara liked the way he scouted her, and that made the pain in her shoulder go unnoticed.

——

Throughout their workouts, they would peep each other, and he liked the attention she was showering him with. There he was again with those pull-ups, directly facing her with intimidation in his eyes. Somehow, he had lost his shirt along the way, sweat pouring off his body like he’d been doing push-ups in the rain. 

Damara’s workout suit was almost see-through and hugging all her curves, and he definitely paid attention because his erection was good and hard, tenting the front of those black workout shorts like wild. Damara wanted to think it was solely her making those pants tent like that, but working the hell out of those machines may have played a role in it. She’s good, but not that good.

The more she looked at Erik, the more she wanted to taste him, feel him pressing into her throat. 

Damara looked down at her iWatch and realized it was minutes to closing time, but she couldn’t leave that room, let alone that window. She hated to leave because he was worth staying and getting caught with. Knowing the kind of man Erik was, he probably got a kick out of the chicks staring his fine ass down, then going home to his equally fine ass girl. That was the kind of luck Damara had: finding the juiciest man on the planet, but not able to land him because he was taken.

Damara suddenly had a lightbulb moment. Erik was a gold member, with a passkey to leave the gym if he ever got locked in. Damara could lie and say she lost her passkey, having to go to him to get out...or to get off! Shit, lord knows she needs that, it’s been way too long. Suddenly, Erik made a move she hadn’t been prepared for. He stepped away from the weight trainer and approached the window again. Damara couldn’t move, couldn’t muster a speech, all she could do was watch him approach her with that sweaty, perfect body. Maybe not so perfect to some because it was littered with tiny raised scars, but to her it was absolutely perfect. Man, the closer he got to her, the hotter she got. In all her orgasmic nonsense with a pussy so wet and probably creaming her panties, it soon dawned on her that he probably approached her to ask her why she’s still there; that maybe he was tired of being stared at as if he were a zoo animal. Damara got scared and backed up.

Erik backed up a bit, confusion on his face before chuckling, giving her a head to toe view of him, then he got busy. His eyes stared into hers as he massaged that massive erection up and down through his pants. Damara could feel her nectar elevating within her core. Then it hit her, he was about to give her a private sex show. Was she about to bounce? Fuck no, she stayed and watched everything that pretty nigga did.

When his erection got hard and thick within his pants, he let out a fucking dazzling smile that could make her cum right there. No man had ever smiled so wickedly at her that her panties got wet; then again, she’d never met Erik. His pecs were mouthwatering to the point of drool, contours and ripples were everywhere. All her nasty little tongue wanted to do was lick, lick from his collarbone to his abs and continue south. Her hands shook as they clutched her chest, feeling her nipples brush against her fingers. All the while, her eyes never left his.

——-

Bending to remove his shoes and socks was a chore because that delicious dick was in the way, but he managed. His fingers beckoned Damara to get closer. Damara knew he was going to slide his pants down next, the nigga was clever with his seduction. She moved back to that window, and watched him slide his shorts to his hips. His dick bounced out, sprang to life, and she dropped to her knees, wondering how all that would feel stroking her insides. He was real heavy, the type of dick where the tip and about two inches could only fit in the pussy. The type of dick where you would push him away while he blew your back out from getting too deep. The type of dick where you had to use two hands to jerk while you sucked; you really gotta be a pro to suck a dick like that with no hands, not to mention ride a dick like that.

Erik bit at his plump bottom lip, massaging it with his tongue while his hand massaged that long pole; that damn snake. The more he stroked, the bigger and bigger it became within his hand. He strokes that beautiful dick until he was about ready to nut. He mouthed at her through that sound proof glass, 

“I want that throat.”

His muscles tensed, he squeezed it harder, and playfully rubbed it against the glass directly where her mouth was. She swore she could taste him, feel him sliding it between her lips and forcing his inches into her. Erik stroked it so hard that she could see the moisture forming on his tip. Damara couldn’t help herself, she had to reach between her thighs and stroke her pussy to match his tempo. Damara pulled her suit down, revealing her drenched sports bra and panties to him. She didn’t want to waste any time the way her fingers made its way to her panties, pulling the fabric to the side to reveal her wet sticky treat. The more he stroked himself, the deeper her fingers slide into her valley; all three of them. When Erik dropped to the floor, she scrambled to see what he was going to do next. It was fucking outrageous! That pretty ass nigga got on his back and moved his hips up and down like a bitch was on top of him. Damara screamed in ecstasy over the sight of it. Her fingers went deeper and deeper like she was trying to scoop her cum out the pussy. She turned around and arched her back, rubbing at her clit with one hand while fingering herself with the other. He pumped hard and long, perspiration dripping from him, muscles tensing. Damara just knew he was going to explode on the floor instead of her which was a damn shame. No. No fucking way. He turned over on his stomach, and did push-ups, pumping those hips and dick into oblivion. He still hadn’t cum for her yet. His arm shook when he did his one-handed push-ups, dick throbbing in his other hand. She felt her orgasm building deep in her belly, her legs shaking from muscle strain and intense pleasure. That was the grand finale, watching him cream into his own hands while staring her down. 

Damara screamed out, Cumming on her fingers with a shake of her body.

——

He returned to his back and pressed out so much cum that she almost fainted from the orgasm he gave her. When her breathing returned to normal, Damara looked into her hand, now covered with so much of her own thick moisture that her fingers were sticking together. Then she glanced up at him watching her with a sweet smile on those wonderful lips—his erection was still in his hand and still harder than boulders. 

The windows were nice and steamed by the time he and Damara finished. She watched him grab the rest of his belongings and headed for the showers. Damara took off as well, figuring that was all she’d get from him. 

Damara made her way to the showers herself, letting her plan go. At least she got a good show from him so she was thankful. 

While in the shower, Damara couldn’t help but smile as she wet her body under the steamy water. She struggled to fight the urge that this was it and probably her last sex show a man would ever give her and he didn’t even touch her. Damara allowed the warm water to trickle down her aching joints and relaxed. Her body mitt delicately encircled her breasts, pretending the sultry touch was Erik’s fingers, sucking on them gently before making a tongue track down to her core. She shuddered in waves of heat. Her body trembled, spasms, taking her mind off the pain from her injured shoulder. She completely gave in to pleasure and let the most tremendous orgasm hit her like no other one had ever before...well, until Erik happened on the scene. 

Then.

“Damn, girl.”

The words came from nowhere. Damara assumed they had been in her mind. Nonetheless, her eyes opened and she twirled around to see if anyone had come in. There Erik was, standing directly in front of her. Damara tried reaching for her towel but Erik snatched it from the railing before she could get it.

His cool, seductive voice melted into her horny spirit. 

“Imagine how big this dick would be if I would have been standing right above that ass, watching you finger that pussy from the front. All I could see was that phat ass shaking and quivering to some sexual fantasy. Was it about me?” 

Damara couldn’t speak. All she could do was look down at the towel around his midsection, sporting a killer of an erection. Her mouth opened, her voice cracked. 

“I...I, uh…”

“It’s okay, babygirl. I already know that ass was thinking about me. How could you not after the show I gave you.” 

Erik moves toward her, one step away from entering the stall with her. 

“You liked that show I already know that shit. I already know I got you”— he slapped her pussy, then reached around to palm her ass roughly, smacking each ass cheek causing it to sting—“hot enough to want more, right? You should anyway since I gave you a little taste of what the fuck I got,” he pulled his towel off and entered the stall.

It was different from having that window in between them both, Damara covering her nakedness with her arms. Erik pulled them down.

“Don’t you dare cover up a fucking thing.”

The grip on her wrists were so tight her hands shook.

“So, you just walk in women’s locker rooms? What if I wasn’t the only one here?” 

He chuckles, letting her wrists go, “And? I don’t give a fuck about that. It’s okay for me to do whatever I fucking please in here.” He kisses her cheek. “I’m Erik—“

“I know who you are, Erik. Every woman within a five-city radius knows who you are.” 

“Yeah? And who might you be?”

“Damara; nothing exotic, nothing romantic, just regular old Damara.”

“Not from where I’m standing, girl. You are so fucking sexy. I bet you taste good too, I know that pussy enjoyed me pleasing you.”

“It did, I can still feel it.” She lets out a moan.

“Well then that pussy won’t mind if I please you again?”

Damara relaxed, his hands covering her breasts, much the same way they did in her daydream. He stroked the tight tips with his thumbs, then replaced them with his lips. She was right, that mouth was made to suck on some titties. Erik sucked them ferociously, licking them like they were candy. Her head reared back as he sucked like he was trying to milk her. Her back arched off that wall, his arm circling her waist and pulling her close.

“So, you want everything, huh?”

“Every single drop.”

Erik’s muscles tightened around Damara; their bodies pressed against the wall. As the water continues to drench them, he lifted her into his arms; her legs hugged his hips. She felt the tip of that delicious dick play with her opening, tease it, rub up and down on it. She faces him, staring into those delicious brown eyes of his. 

“It’s almost closing time, I couldn’t leave yet without a little taste.” 

It definitely wouldn’t be a little with how big he was. Damara prepares herself for the surprise, her pussy clenching and quivering on its own. Erik takes his fingers to caress her clit, taking a single finger to tease it with a flickering motion. Damara kept a firm grip on his neck, pressed against the shower wall. 

“I’m playing wit that clit good, huh?”

She responds with a bite to his shoulder, her pussy jerking in his hand. Erik brings his fingers to his mouth, spits on them, then brings them back to her clit. He was very generous with his spit, making her pussy extra sloppy. Clearly with him still going at it on her clit he aimed to make her cum this time with his own fingers. 

“Ok, you working my clit,” she felt him take his dick to finish it off, rubbing her clit in circles. The smoothness of the tip of his dick hit every sensitive spot on her clit. 

“Make that pussy cum,” she edged him on.

His hand came down to grip her ass while he worked, her body shuddering, legs securing around him even harder, moans echoing off of the shower walls. 

“Shit, fuck, damn…”

She could feel the sensitivity in her pussy too.

“Open up for me.”

Damara opened wider, Erik bringing his dick to her pussy. He pushed his way in slow, only by a few inches before she clamped up. Her guess was correct, he was too much to take. Damara was scared now, she didn’t know if she could go through with it.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking big,” her eyes grew wide.

“Ha, You knew that already when you saw me jerking it.” 

“I’m too tight.”

“So?” He moves his hips, teasing her walls to let him in further. Her body crunched, hand to his chest. Was she fucking a monster dick or what? His shit was too damn much.

“Chill,” her eyelids fluttered. She wouldn’t be able to stand.

“You’ve been eyeing me all fucking week, teasing me and shit and now you wanna cry about how big my dick is?” 

He kissed at her neck, causing her to moan and rub her wet face against his. She brought her hands to his biceps, squeezing them tightly. 

“Be gentle, okay? It’s too damn big.”

Erik takes that invitation, gripping her hips firm before pressing himself in inch by inch, pausing in between. Each time he entered her it felt like he was ripping her a new hole, but it felt so full in a good way. Along with the pain came a shock of pleasure. The vein on the underside of his shaft rubbed smoothly at the floor of her pussy, a new sensation she had never felt. It curves at the tip to hit her g spot, swiping it each time he moves his hips.

“I don’t think I ever had a dick this good,” she hissed the moment he fully entered her. 

“I already know you didn’t with all that crying you was doing.” He pulled out to the tip, purposely, to make her feel every inch again. Erik pushes back in, watching the way her face went through a series of confused and unprepared emotions. It was time to pick up the pace now. Erik started off slow, his strokes growing and her moans. Damara held onto the rails along the walls of the shower, watching with astonishment how Erik’s dick fucked her.

“Oh, oh, omg,” she shook tremendously, a single hand clawing at Erik’s chest. He simply fucks her with deeper strokes, reminding her what came with every inch. Clearly he had a fetish for making women cry from how big he was. That rock hard body came with a huge package. 

“Are you fucking kidding me!!!!!” She felt a rush of pressure forming in her lower belly, so big it pushes Erik’s dick out, a fountain of liquid pouring. The more she clenched, the more it flowed. Damara couldn’t control it and it shocked her. No way, this nigga made her squirt and for the first time ever. She’d always tried to make that happen for herself but it never worked so she would give up. 

That seemed to fuel Erik even more, he brought one of her legs up into a split, entering her body again. This time, he flexed his abs, bringing his dick into even more of a curve, really hitting her spot. Erik knew what he was doing, he wanted to see the reaction again.

“Come on, take this big dick,” he held her leg up even if it shook.

“Ah, fuck yes, shit it’s happening again!!” Before she could relax, here she was, squirting again but Erik stayed in. He smiled, slamming her so hard with his dick that she could feel it in her stomach. At this point, Damara might as well lose count of how many orgasms she’ll have. 

———

It was true.

Damara has missed two days of the gym for a reason. 

She couldn’t get out of the damn bed the morning after her and Erik had sex. Her pussy was sore and sensitive, inner thighs shaking when she stood from the bed. Damara didn’t bother exchanging numbers with him, unsure if she would even be able to take him up on a second chance. Deciding to be a big girl, Damara went to the gym for a dance session. 

She stood in the mirrored dance studio wearing a leotard colored bronze, a pair of sweats on and her hair in a messy bun with her vans. She skimmed through her playlist on iTunes, adjusting her AirPods to her liking.

Damara had to squat ballerina style to stretch her thigh muscles, bringing her leg up to extend the muscles of her inner thigh. Rolling her neck, she turns from the mirror, deciding to dance to a Nicki song. Once she got in the groove with the tempo, she started her routine. Her body moved like magic. The mirror wasn’t her own audience anymore, Erik was standing at the door watching her closely. He didn’t make a move, his eyes following her skillful moves along with her dangerous body, I mean, Damara was thick. Even through her loose fitted sweats he could tell. Now that Erik got a good look at her, he recognized her from Instagram.

DeetheeDancer.

She was pretty popular on social media for her dancing. Erik watched a few of her videos from time to time, loving the way she moved. She had this way of letting you know she was sexy from the look she gave in the camera when it followed her body. It was as if she was daring you to touch her, let her throw it back on you and see if you can catch it.

——-

Damara finished off to her first song, bending over with her hands on her knees to catch her breath. She paused her music, picking up her water to take a long sip. After recapping it, Damara’s eyes sweep the area, landing on the door and seeing a familiar face waving at her. 

It was him, the big dick nigga that had her on a two day hiatus. He looked to be arriving at the gym because he didn’t look worn out just fresh with a bomber jacket over top of his workout gear, beats over his ears and shades on. 

“Mind if I come in?” He mouthed.

Damara caught her breath before smiling, motioning for him to enter. He finally stepped through, dropping the duffel bag that was on his shoulder.

“Why ain’t you tell me you were a dancer? You ain’t so average.” 

“It’s kind of hard to do that when you were balls deep in me.” She mouthed tiredly.

“You talk hella bold but when I’m in there I have you running though.” He removed his shades, blessing her with his brown eyes.

“Mind if I watch? I got all day.” Erik removed his jacket.

“Fine with me,” Damara was okay with it, she had eyes on her with dancing almost all the time.

“She plugged her phone into the wall Bluetooth, settling on dancing to some pussy popping music from her freaky playlist. Yes, this was absolutely purposeful.

Right off the back, Megan Thee Stallion Freak Nasty began playing. She started off with a routine she already had to this song. She poses, hands rubbing down her frame before squatting down with a grip on her knees while swaying her hips. She did a turn, one hand in her hair with the other on her ass. Once the beat dropped, she got into the groove with a sexy hip hop routine that involved a lot of footwork and ass shaking. Her ass shook alright, like a goddamn tidal wave straight from the sea. She bounced in a circle, spreading her legs wide before landing into a perfect split that deserved tens across the board like she was a gymnast. 

Erik was impressed, and so was the huge dick that jumped happily in his compression briefs. She was clearly giving it her all, impressing him. He could fuck her ass royally with his dick, congratulate her for the little talent show. She was on the floor again, doing a perfect side split, her eyes moving from the mirror and zeroing in on his erection. She must have known that he was turned on because her eyes didn’t move from his crotch the entire time she grind, bent her body over, and twerked her ass. 

“You think that pussy can handle this dick today?”

She stops moving, hyperventilating before pausing her music.

“Nah, keep that playlist rolling, I want you to dance on this dick.”

She looked at him. He looked at her. She whispered, “okay, I admit it. You’ve got too much dick for me.” 

“Girl,” He wasn’t trying to hear that.

“I’m serious, I need to be able to move not walk like a cripple.” 

“It’s a gift,” he smiles wide.

Damara walks over to the mirrored wall, holding onto the bar before stretching her leg all the way up to her head. 

“See, you preparing yourself already.”

Erik began to approach her, Damara bent over with her head between her legs, looking from behind. She could see Erik making his way to her, the feeling in her stomach making her nervous. Damara lifts back up, grabbing a towel to wipe her neck off. Here he was now, fully enveloped in her personal space with his hands on either side of the bar, chin resting on her shoulder.

“I mean, you really got that shit up there, huh?” He was referring to her leg.

She chuckles, “Chill out, monster.”

“Monster? Hm,” Erik turns Damara around, his eyes scanning her heaving chest, “Well, it is October.” 

She smiles, licking her lips before looking at his, “You plan on scaring me again?”

Erik takes his thumb to stroke her chin, “I thought you were afraid of big, bad things?”

Damara swallows spit, eyes fluttering. She grabbed the bar on either side to brace herself.

“You ain’t know? This is my favorite time of the year.”

Damara places her hands on the back of Erik’s head, pulling him down to meet her lips. They kissed, Erik’s hand on her hips now, pulling her off and against him. The next song that played was dvsn- With me.

“C’ mon,” Erik kisses her again, their full lips in French kiss mode, “dance on me.”

Damara takes her time to work her hips into the slow beat, Erik easily matching her movements. She was impressed, turning now, dipping forward with her ass against his crotch, twirling her hips in a hypnotizing circle. Erik places one arm across her chest, his face buried in her hair, Damara turning to face him slightly while she moved her hips tantalizingly slow against him. 

“Mm,” Erik looked her frame up and down.

Damara turns, on her knees, arching back before rolling her body forward, grabbing Erik’s legs as she began to rise while her hips moved from side to side. She went to her tip toes then, one leg cleanly rising to rest on his shoulder before she arched her back, jumping up for Erik to catch her. He does, twirling her around before slowing down as the song slowed, their eyes meeting. 

“Wow,” she spoke breathlessly.

Before she could stop herself, Damara places her lips against his, Erik bringing her to the floor. Between frantic kisses, Erik undressed her, her naked sweaty body warm against his. She moans, arms around his neck. Erik takes his fingers, slipping inside to get a feel and taste.

“You taste just right,” He sucks slowly on his fingers before taking those same fingers to rub her nipples. 

“Fuck,” Damara pushes Erik down to the floor, her hands moving quickly to undress him. She needed him no matter how big he was. The sight of him again almost knocked her out. Damara grabs his dick, licking her lips before sinking her mouth over him. Erik instantly palmed the back of her head, biting his lip and saying how much of a good girl she was.

Damara sucked like her life was at stake, spit covering her hands and chest. She couldn’t fit him all in her mouth but she did her absolute best. Erik pulls her mouth off, watching the string of spit connect with her lower lip.

“Climb up, Baby girl.” Erik motions for Damara to come to him, Her legs straddling him on either side before her arms grabbed his shoulders tightly. She tried to prepare herself but the moment Erik slipped inside again she squeezed his biceps with her nails. Erik hisses, taking his hands to grab at her waist to keep her still. He started fucking up into her at an even pace, the pressure within her too much. She could feel the shit in her spine. Damara looked back at it, eyes closing in sweet pleasure before looking down at Erik’s smiling face.

“God, please keep fucking me.”

Erik grabs her ass, anchoring his hips before picking up the pace. The scream from her was so loud it bounced off the walls. 

“These walls ain’t sound proof, Baby girl.” 

She couldn’t move or control her cries. Erik was deep within her guts. Damara begged for Erik to keep going over and over, a series of please and I need more escaping her mouth.

“You gonna squirt on me like that again?” He bit his lip, raising his brows in a rude manner to initiate a response from her, “I said is that what you’re gonna do?!” 

“Yes!!!!!”

Damara snapped, squirting like he asked. Erik slaps both her ass cheeks for that.

“Good girl, I know you got more for me.”

“Yes, Erik.” 

She froze, mouth suspended open before cumming again. Within seconds?

“FUCKkkkkk.” 

“Mhm,” he fucked up into her at the same killer pace, “mhm...mhm.”

“STOP!” She cries out, the urge to cum right there.

“Stop it, I’m gonna cum again!”

“Girl, shut up and cum.” 

Erik was close himself.

“Shut that crying up and cum on this dick.”

She went silent, body trembling before cumming for a third time.

“Oh my God,” she cries.

“You gonna let me cum in that mouth, Baby girl?”

Erik bounced Damara a few more times before slipping her off, standing to his feet quickly while she stayed on her knees. Damara opened wide, waiting for his treat. He jerked his big dick, grunts deep and eyes low and dangerous. After three pumps the cream spilled, Damara’s tongue ready. He tasted so damn good. 

“All of it, I’m not playing with you.”

She grabs his dick, licking and sucking all of it off.

“Good girl,” he puckered his lips down at her, mouthing a kiss. She almost fainted.

“You gonna have them thirsty bitches mad”

Damara didn’t care.

As a young student studying Criminology, Gotham was the perfect place to study the thoery of crime. But, that didnt come without it’s own risks. Without your intention, your life becomes intertwined with another’s; a life you had so vehemently tried to repress - and now it was within your grasp; the opportunity held upon a golden pedestal, just waiting for you to take it. In your own desperation to fend off the demons tormenting your soul, can you overcome the very thing your swore against? Or will you succumb to the darkness? When had being bad ever felt so good?

Rating: M/E (swearing, triggers, panic attack (not explicitly said) - alcohol abuse (OC isn’t an addict but doesn’t display healthy relationships with alcohol) - please read the tags. this fic is going to be very dark and twisted so please be warned in regards to further chapters

word count: ~5k

You needed this.

By fucking god you needed this.

You could blame it on your studies, your recent move to Gotham city to study your Masters in Criminology; the perfect setting really. And you could blame it on your stressful move; the house that you're renting not being anything like the photos you viewed online - the water-damaged walls and the odd-looking array of bullet holes in the front room, and maybe even the questionable red stain spotting along the cream-turned-brown carpet towards the bathroom.

But most of all it was this.

Moving to Gotham was the worst-best thing you have ever done. It'd do leaps and bounds for your research and personal evolution, but it was also becoming more and more apparent by the day as to why the little flat you lived in was so cheap; having an address with anything to do with Hell on it was probably a good indication.

Flat 221B, 36th, Hell's Kitchen, Gotham.

Yeah. That's why you fucking needed this.

It was an absolute shithole. You'd only been here for a week and you had experienced more crime than you had been privy to when studying at home. It was a catch 22, move to the most dangerous city you can think of and get 1-1 experience in crime, collecting data for your dissertation; or stay at home, go to a safe city and become some pansy police officer who refused to get their hands dirty.

You were always one for taking risks.

So, as you downed your last home-made margarita and stuffed your bits and pieces into your shoulder bag, you were off out the door.

Tonight was a field day; an excuse to go out and get absolutely trollied all in the name of science. It was just getting late, the sun had set a few hours ago and the Gotham nightlife brought the streets to life; ironically, considering the insanely high murder rates. Some would call you mad, a single, young, attractive woman walking unfamiliar streets at this time of night, in Gotham. And you supposed you were. See, the only reason you were studying crime was out of pure fascination. Fascination, yes. The theory of it, really - how the human mind comprehended such decisions and why you lived in such a society - who branded these rules? Desperation was a word you liked to play with. Its meaning subjective depending on your own reality, really. You had always seen the world differently... criminals weren't inherently bad people to you, they were just often misunderstood, brandished, acting out of desperation at someone else's greed. Obviously, you had the complete and utter fucking mentalists, but even then you could find an argument in their favour - like the Joker; he was misunderstood, torn and thrown around like a rag doll until he made a stand, a particularly violent one, but a stand nonetheless; a stand out of desperation to be heard, to be understood. And deep down you resonated with his actions, being driven to the extremes to be listened to.

You knew exactly how he felt. You had the scars to prove it.

Enough on that, though; you're here for a good time, right? Right. You're going out to forget about the stingy shithole you'll be returning to once the night bleeds into morning, to forget about the mountain of case studies you've yet to work through. It was all a bit overwhelming; thus solidifying your burning need to procrastinate and forget about it all, and what better way to do it than get black-out drunk in a bar you've never been to before?

You weren't an alcoholic by any means, you didn't rely on the sweet burn to see you through the days, but that didn't mean you couldn't revel in the double-ended spear of its toxicity - drinking so much to forget, but its effects only temporary. You were a student, after all, you had to live up to the stereotype?

You scoffed at the thought, murmuring out loud, "Fucking hell." Ok maybe you needed to slow down a little bit... you put the hipflask back in its pouch whilst you continued to walk to your third bar of the night.

You were on a pub crawl of sorts, embarking on your own little quest to scout out the best club in town for further investigation. You were just balancing on that fuzzy tightrope between bliss and blindness, the perfect haze to blur out the dangers of the night and warm your skin despite the bitter cold. You were in your own little world it seemed, and as a bright neon sign for a secluded back alley club came into view, you knew you had to investigate.

"Card." Came the burly voice in front of you. You had to crane your neck up to meet their eyeline, trying your best to pull a serious face and not laugh at the imaginary comedy sketch playing out in your mind.

"Card, you mean ID?" You ask, one eyebrow furrowing in question. You had all the relevant stuff, and deep down you'd be offended if they didn't ask, you'd only just turned 21, a few months ago in fact.

"No, Entry Card, VIP." He reiterates, crossing his hands in front of his chest. You scoff at the idea that a place like this required VIP cards to get in. 'Really? They'd have to pay me to not go in, ha' you humour to yourself, finding the joke a little too funny in your drunken state.

"What's so funny?" The man asks again, a bit more aggressively this time, like he knew you were mocking him in your head. And you were. You knew you shouldn't push your luck, his size easily outmatching yours. But fuck it.

"Nothin sweetheart, just surprised 'tis all," You tease, rolling your eyes as you put your ID away and prepare to leave the queue.

The bouncer can't help himself, "Surprised?"

"Mmm, yes, surprised, or disappointed? You choose." You smirk as you turn away, hips swaying in a drunken swagger that you would never normally possess. Something about you tonight just screamed fucking goddess - and 'don't fuck with me else it will be the last thing you do' - you didn't know why; you were in no state to start a bar fight and win. Maybe it was the tight, black faux leather flares and wrap around corset that filled you with a placebo pill of confidence; but by god did you have a stunning poker face, one that seemed to have caught the eyes of someone other than the bouncer you were antagonising.

A whistle stopped you in your tracks.

You stood on the edge of the pavement, back to the club, your hair flowing slightly in the wind. You tilted your head slightly towards the sound, your minimal movement the only sign of your acknowledgement. You really hated catcallers. It was one of the few things that would really wind you up, your short and temperate anger fizzing and popping under the surface.

"Let her in." Came a new voice. You turned around, eyes landing on an unfamiliar face. He was a tall guy, with an ice-white buzzcut and a sculpted face sporting scars; new and old - his brows knit into a harsh line and his piercing gaze instructing you with just his silent intention. You decide to play along, smirking back at him as you turn and saunter your way back to the entryway. As you walk past the bouncer you position yourself against him, slighting a faint touch of your body to his, sure to leave a whisper of your perfume lingering in the air as a sort of poisonous parting gift - a nicely packaged fuck you.

Your pupils instantly dilated to the sight laid before you. Ok, you take it back. This was no dingey club. Your skin was coated in an inciting shade of red; the coloured theme of the club. It was stimulating, the atmosphere - reigniting that previous cockiness you had been secretly harbouring through the night and twisting it into something still unfamiliar to you, the inner thrumming residing behind your naval indistinguishable from the music reverberating around the club.

The man who had whistled at you had disappeared, so you took this as your opportunity to grab a couple more drinks, to scout the club, of course...

You sauntered over to the bar and after a moment of getting yourself comfortable on the stool, locked eyes with the bartender. They didn't hold the same ferocity as the man before, and you felt your outer guard falling slightly at the soft tones lacing their eyes, their general aura giving off nothing inherently dangerous. They walk over, one hand wiping away at a newly washed pint glass with a rag.

"What can I get you?" They ask politely. They seemed young, too young in fact to be working behind the bar, but now wasn't the time for serious investigating - you highly doubted he was underage, just in fact sporting an inherent babyface. You smile sweetly back at the bartender as you purr your reply, "Whiskey on the rocks, please."

"Oh? Honey that's strong?" He questions, an eyebrow furrowing at your request. You giggle at his innocence.

"Mhm, make it a double." You smirk, and he only reciprocated, pouring a double and a little extra.

"You're new 'round here, aren't you?" He states as he passes over your drink, and you nod as you take a sip, soon following up with a further reply, "That obvious?"

"No, I just would've remembered a pretty face like yours if you'd been here before." He flirts, leaning down onto the bar, elbows sitting comfortably on the dark mahogany surface - it was a tactical move, you knew it, he was getting closer to you by the minute and you noticed his blatant interest the moment he locked eyes with you. You'd play along for a little while, it was good practice anyway, investigating.

You smile before replying, a brief pause between sips to sell your contemplation, "I can tell you're not one for wasting time..." You pause, implying silently for his name.

"Alex." He smirks, holding his hand out to you. You shake it, surprised by the dexterity. But as you thought things were going well, he pulls away sharply, his gaze dropping from you as he scurries back to the other side of the bar nervously. Your face scrunches in confusion, wondering exactly what you'd done wrong.

A firm hand around your waist answers your question.

The presence of another behind you makes you tense momentarily, their forward nature catching you off guard. A hand swirls around the small of your back, stopping at the natural curve of your waist, their palm sitting comfortably in the dip as their fingers latched into your exposed skin. The grip is tight, possessive - possessive for someone you didn't even know the face of. Your nervousness quickly turns into a tizzy, frustrated at the being behind you and their audacity to hold you so. You twist, turning your head to meet the side of their face, eyes rough with your bubbling anger.

The sharp-edged, stubbly profile of a man greets you, a little too close for comfort.

"Alex, two of whatever she's ordered on me, 'kay?" The man says. You roll your eyes at his cockiness, picking up your whiskey glass and downing the rest of the hot honey, burning your throat in the process - but you invited the pain, it's scorch momentarily masking the uninvited heat that was building elsewhere.

"I can order my own drinks, thank you." You scoff, sliding off of the barstool and away from his grasp, picking up your bag so that you can leave.

The man scoffs, using one hand to bring the red-tinted shades sitting on his nose sliding down, tilting his head to give you a better look. You turn and face him at the wrong time it seems, interrupting his very blatant scan of your form. You scoff at his actions, turning harshly to go, muttering to him as you walk past him and towards the exit, "In your fucking dreams."

Yeah - you tell him, girl. Too fucking right, that's what he gets for...that. Maybe you were overreacting, but the way your skin heated like wildfire at his unexpected touch, the way the previously dormant thrumming deep within your stomach tinged with a spark of something you hadn't felt in a long time, a feeling that was unfortunately not one of pleasure to you - you panicked. You'd never reacted like this, but something about his presence was just dominating your senses and you had to get away, to clear your head; maybe it was the alcohol, you didn't know - you didn't care, you just wanted fresh air and five minutes to get whatever the fuck has come over you out of your system.

"I see manners are not your chosen language," The man jokes, but he doesn't bother hiding the icy bitter frustration at your rejection. But you carry on, moving away from his ensuing footsteps.

"Neither are they yours," You retort, turning the corner towards the back exit. But you don't make it to the back exit. The scarred man from before moves from the shadows and grips your upper arm, swivelling you in one motion to face your incessant assailant. You don't give him the privilege of your attention, instead choosing to stare wide-eyed at the ground. Your bubbling anger evolves into something more pertinent, more feral, "What the fuck is it with you guys?" You spit, trying your best to yank your arm free. It was no good, every time you moved his grip on you tightened.

"That's no way to speak to a kind gentleman, is it darling?" The stubble-haired man chides, waving a hand in a dramatic swish as he talks.

"You and gentlemen is a bit of a reach, don't you think? And kind too, don't flatter yourself sweetheart -- hey! Let me go!" You scorn, yanking away harder. Your heart was starting to race now, the phantom ghost of familiar brutish hands that had hurt you before were blurring with your present reality. You couldn't go through that again, no. You'd moved away for a reason, even if it were disguised by your University Degree, the real reason was to get away from him.

Your change in body language seemed to shock both men, and soon the bearded man orders the other to let you go.

"Zsasz, let her go." He says sternly. As soon as his grip is off of you, you practically run to the bathroom, locking yourself in the stall. You close your eyes. You were trying so, so hard to help yourself, but it was just not to be. The last 12 months come crashing down on you, and you were helpless against the murderous gravity of it all. Your panic quickly turned into terror, and no matter how hard you tried to suppress the overbearing feelings blistering your heart, their clutch was now embedded into your conscious and they were working their way out, ripping and tearing, leaving nothing but devastation in its wake. It was brutish, the power of it all; how after all this time those short few moments held such a crippling power over you, a power no matter how hard you tried to overrule, decimated you each and every time. You're so caught up in your emotions that you don't hear the lock on the bathroom click, nor do you hear the faint rustling of a velvet suit making its way towards your stall.

However, you do hear the tap-tap of leather-coated knuckles against the door.

"Fuck off," You spit, not even attempting to mask the raspy panic between each word. The other person didn't say anything, and silence engulfed the room momentarily, only the occasional piercing sounds of your choked panic ripping the hazy-yellow neon light animating the bathroom. The clink of glass to wood brought your head up, your attention distracted and now upon the glass of whiskey being slid underneath the door.

"A peace offering," A familiar voice clarifies. You snatch up the drink and down it in one, desperate for a distraction; a controllable discomfort. You cough roughly at the strength, the new soreness from your rasped panic mixing distastefully with the burn from the alcohol - note taken; don't ever do that again.

You take a second to let the burn cool before speaking, "Thanks...for the drink." 

He doesn't bother with a reply.

Another few moments pass and you feel you have yourself under control. You take in a deep breath and straighten your clothes out as you stand, brushing the stray hairs from your face and trying your best to look presentable despite the absence of a mirror. You unlock the door and move to step out, hand holding the empty glass out aimlessly for the other man to take.

He doesn't take it.

You furrow your brows and pause in your movements, and it is only now you chance a look into his eyes for the first time. The moment your eyes meet his, you regret it. Not because you're scared or frightened, no; you regret it because you know those are eyes you will forever see in your dreams. This man's eyes told you similar tales of the navy shores from home that you had often resided to in search of peace, the lighter hues telling tales of the midwinter sky you would doze under; and the occasional slash of cobalt reflected the darker depths of his soul, mirroring the light of unnamed stars. His eyes painted your soul in a colour you'd yet to see, a colour only he could grace you with, and it made you weak.

You were transfixed, held stationary by his unspoken authority. He raised an eyebrow at you, his understanding all too clear. You broke from your haze and scuffed, a hot blush creeping over your tear-stained cheeks.

Embarrassed couldn't even cover it.

"Fuck," you whispered, wiping away once again at the drying streaks of once warm tears on your cheeks. "FUCK!" You shout louder this time, chastising yourself as you come back to reality. What the fuck are you doing? You're stronger than this?

"How about we fix you another drink, hmm?" He says. You chuckle as you pinch the bridge of your nose, the heavy daze from the whiskey starting to mount its assault on your senses. Fuck it, you came here to get blackout drunk, so you're going to get fucking blackout drunk - for free by the looks of it.

You roll your shoulders and pick your head up, holding it high. "Sure, ugh--?" You say, holding out your hand to shake his as you hint for his name.

He replies with a smirk before turning you towards the door, catching himself before he places a hand at the small of your back, "Roman, Roman Sionis."

"Well, Roman, how about a pitcher or two?" You challenge, "Ever drunk with a student before?"

He didn't reply instantly, but you didn't let him, storming confidently out of the bathrooms and to the bar. You honed in on Alex, and at first he looked excited to see you, but as you approached he saw the darkness in your eyes and instantly knew you were'nt to be messed with. He poured a double shot of Vodka and Coke as quick as he could; it didn't even reach the counter before its contents were emptied by yours truly and slammed back onto the mahogany.

"Another." You growl, and Alex doesn't hesitate, the next drink landing in your hands within moments. You sink this one like the last, face maintaining the deadly glare it had held since you entered the room. Roman was soon at your side, marvelling at your drinking abilities; it was scary actually, how you managed to down your alcohol with such ease, expressionless. His grin faltered on your fourth shot and he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, breaking your anamatronic trance and stealing your attention to him; that's better - Roman always got what he wanted, and he wanted you. He raised an eyebrow at your anger, wondering how he could capitalise on this and turn the situation in his favour. But for some reason, he hesitates; the thought of being cruel to you made his skin shiver in an unpleasent way - oddly. See, Mr Sionis was a criminal, a violent, feral monster who, if he did not get his own way, or was undermined or disrespected, made sure that those were the last things said person would inflict - for disrespecting the King of Gotham's underground was a penalty punishable by death. A slow, torturous death, courtesy of his own cynical ministrations. He was the Black Mask, and the Black Mask felt no mercy. Why should he sympathise when he could not receive such pleasures? Others can't have what he cannot, that simply is not fair, its preposterous. And like the narcissistic bastard he was, he reasoned with this part of himself, convincing the little golden figure sat perched on his right shoulder that he was doing the nice thing by not kidnapping you right now and keeping you for himself. Something about you was different, he could sense it - he recognised the brutal blaze swirling in the depths of your eyes. They reflected his own - murderous. And that's when the little red devil on his left shoulder made their attendance known, reinforcing Romans suspicions. This girl had the devil in her, the same devil within him.

"What?" You asked, incredulously. Roman had been staring at you for longer than was comfortable, and you knew he was deep in thought over something. His eyes flicked like an old VHS tape, his physical thoughts and their direction reflecting in the depths of his scrutiny over you.

Roman grinned at his plan. He had to have you, but he knew now that forcing himself was not an option - he had to wait for you to come to him. And what better way than to get someones attention by no longer wanting it? It was the ultimate power play he thought, his excitement at the idea of you being his under your own intention ignited a blistering fire of self admiration within him - Roman Sionis was a fucking genius he thought, no, he knew.

"Nothing Darling, ciao." He replied smugly, his lips stressing a shit-eating grin at his own devious plan. He waltzed away from you to find Zsazs, desperate to let him in on his incredible plan.

You scoff at your dismissal. The fuck was all that about?

Rolling your eyes, your turn to Alex. You take a second to allow the room to catch up with you, "Did you see that?" You ask Alex, moving your head slightly to the side in a nod towards the now retreated Roman. Alex scoffs, placing a pint of water on the bar in front of you. You cut him a look of displeasure but knew you should probably slow down if you wanted to get back safe tonight.

"That guy, my dear, is Mr Sionis." Alex said, lifting his brows as at your confused look.

"Mr Sionis...right, and he is...?" You say, waving your hands in a confused manner.

Alex looked stunted, but continued to serve a few orders before continuing his conversation with you, "Well, Mr Sionis is the owner of this club."

Your eyes widen at the realisation, "The owner?" You mutter.

"Mhm." Alex hummed, amused.

But the conversation took a new direction, a direction Alex was not expecting.

"Tell me about this Mr Sionis, Alex." You murmur, gliding into your soft, convincing voice you used to get information about men.

"Well, he's the owner of this club, and my boss. He pays well." Alex starts, trying his best to close of the conversation.

"Hmm, yes; but what about him? What type of person is he?"

"I don't think--,"

"Alex," you growl, darkly. Your face dropped the sweet smile it had held before and Alex visibly winced. He knew he couldn't say too much, and he didn't know much either, but he also didn't know you, and if living in Gotham had any perks; he knew those eyes - they were the eyes of someone you did not fuck with if you wanted to keep breathing. So, Alex moved across the bar, leaning in on his elbows so he could whisper to you over the loud music; where only the two of you could be heard.

"He, he has a particular personality - colourful, bold,-" Alex starts, his eyes shifting past your figure a few times to make sure he wasnt being watched, "-Possessive. He gets what he wants - always. And he will do anything to do so, there's no limits with the guy. You fuck up, you're done."

"Done?" You whisper back, leaning in closer to Alex, only a hairs breath away.

Alex stalls, trying to find a way to answer your question without sinking himself to that fate. But he doesn't get the chance to, as you're pulling away and turning towards an unknown figure behind you.

The next few moments were a blur.

The next thing Alex knew, there was a face being buried into the hard mahogany of the bar, and the loud crack of the mans nose being broken shook Alex from his trance.

You moved so effortlessly, your movements only so perfect through hours of repetition. You didn't even stumble, and with the effectiveness of your ruminations, practically no attention was drawn to the now escalating scene at the bar.

"On what fucking planet is it ok to grab anyone like the way you just groped me, huh?" You whispered into your assailants ear. They whined and coughed, shifting under the mounting pressure you were placing at their shoulder. You had grabbed them by the arm the moment you felt their hand sliding across your ass, and the quick pinch had you seeing red - moving through muscle memory and destabilising the man by using his own weight against him. He was now bent over the bar, head buried in broken glass, his shoulder ready to pop at any moment. He was at your mercy and your blood turned primitive. You'd had enough of creepy perverts tonight.

"The fuck is wrong with you lady? It wasn't anythin' bad," The man groans, blood pouring from his nose and staining the white shirt he was wearing.

You pressed harder, muffling the pop of his shoulder joint and his cry of pain with a loud laugh, "Say, Frank - how bout you walk out this club now under your own premise before I have you wheeled out in a bodybag?" You sigh.

"The fuck, how'd you know my name was Frank?" he growled, grunting at the pain.

"Not only are you incredibly rude, but you're also rather obnoxious too, you fucking loser." You sneer, shifting his dislocated shoulder further round. He screamed, but only briefly, as you soon shut him up with a face full of glass.

"Fuck off, Frank, and don't come back."

You release him and he instantly turns and scampers away like the injured hyena he was. Rolling your eyes you turn back to Alex, who's eyes are wide with shock.

"Alex..." You mumble, and he gulps, his eyes searching yours out of panic over what you'll do next, "Just fix me a drink and I’ll be off. Sorry for the mess." You say calmly as if nothing happened. And that's the way it seemed, as no one even batted an eyelid to the violent display from moments ago. Alex says nothing but does as he's told, making you up an extra strong rum and coke. You down the drink and place the glass down.

"Where's the emergency exit?" You ask Alex, and he points to the door behind the bar. You smile, sliding him a small tip - hush money - and exit the building.

You made it about five minutes down the road before things began to get weird - real weird. This wasnt the same type of blurry you got from alcohol, this was colourful, dazy.

"Fuck - that fucker drugged me!" You sneer, words merging together as you propped yourself up against a brick wall. You tried to run over the events in your head, wondering where you tripped up. And then it hit you, the pint glass - when you leaned in to talk to Alex, he’d slipped something in the drink.

"Fu-cckk" You mumble, eyes incredibly droopy now.

You needed to get back to your flat, safety - yes.

But you didn't, as when you tried to move your legs they gave out from under you. This was an incredibly dangerous situation for anyone to be in, especially a young woman on the streets of Gotham. But the drugs worked quickly against your system, and before you had any time to prepare yourself for your inevitable demise, you blacked out

Hello, my lovelies! I had a little bit of time to write this past weekend, so I managed to write this story and make some progress on other stories/ideas I have in the works, which I’m really happy about! So yeah, this is just a fun Modern-Day Music Festival AU that I had the idea to write forever ago but never did until now!

I’m trying to be better about tagging people who want to be tagged, and I’ve decided to start tagging people who have said “I want to be tagged” beginning with the first chapter of the multi-chapter story that I’m gonna be posting relatively soon. If you wanna be added to my tags list and have yet to let me know if you want to be added to my tags list on this post or a something I posted in the last month or so, feel free to let me know! (I also have not added people to the tags list if you liked the tags list post, because I didn’t want to assume anything unless you directly asked to be tagged, but if you do in fact wanna be added to my tags list, just let me know!)

You can find all of my writing here if you wanna check out some of my other recent stories (it’s not fully updated, sorry, but you can also peruse my “my writing” tag to find everything I’ve written).

***

I Don’t Wanna Wait for the Endless Summer

After watching her best mate standing in front of her full-length mirror for at least ten minutes, alternating between holding a few different pairs of denim shorts up to her body, Rae huffed in frustration. “Honestly, babes. Just pick one! The last few options you showed me all looked about the same!” Rae complained without looking up from the screen of her cell phone in front of her. “It’s not that easy, Rae! I can’t decide if the look I’m going for is ‘stylish and casual’ or ‘stylish, casual, and sexy’!” “Chloe, we’re going to an outdoor music festival in the middle of summer. By the end of the day, you’ll be so gross and covered in dirt, your sweat, and other people’s sweat and spilled drinks that it won’t even matter which shorts you decide to wear.” “Maybe, but at least I can start off the day looking cute!” Chloe replied earning an eye roll from Rae as she chose which shorts she would be wearing and returned the others to her closet. “What time are we supposed to meet the gang to head to the festival together?” “Twenty minutes ago,” Rae said as Chloe stepped away from her closet wearing the shorts she had decided on. “Really? No problem, you can go ahead and text Archie to let him know that we’re on our way over there now!” *** Chloe and Rae pulled up to Archie’s house and Chloe parked her car on the street. “Well look who decided to finally show up!” Finn called as he stood up from the curb and flicked his cigarette into the street. Rae scoffed as she slammed the passenger door and looked towards Chloe on the opposite side of the car. “Please remind me why I agreed to go to this stupid fucking music festival knowing that Finn ‘complete twat’ Nelson was part of the deal?” Rae groaned. “You didn’t think that the music festival was stupid when you saw the band line-up for the Endless Summer Festival, so you’re not fooling anyone,” Chloe replied as she waved at the gang where they were gathered outside Archie’s house a short distance away. “Not to mention that if it weren’t for Finn and Chop, we wouldn’t even have these tickets. Finn is part of the gang too, Rae, even if you two can never seem to get along.” “I guess you’re right. Let’s just get on with it and try to make the best of the day, yeah? I wanted to go to Endless Summer Fest for the music and to hang out with the gang before we’re all too busy to see each other and not even Finn can screw that up for me!” Rae replied as she and Chloe approached the gang as they finished deciding who would be driving together to the festival. *** Rae stepped out of the passenger seat of Archie’s car and walked around to stretch her legs while she waited for the others. Before the gang had left Archie’s house, they had been trying to decide on the best way for them to drive up to the festival in two vehicles and Rae had been very vocal about her appreciation that Archie volunteered to drive up with her and Chloe. Spending the day in the general vicinity of Finn would be testing Rae’s patience enough, so the last thing she needed was to be locked in the same vehicle as him for over an hour on the drive up to the festival as well. “Let’s get a move on, lads! Thanks to Archie driving like my mum, we’re already gonna miss the first band performing on the main stage by the time we get in the gates,” Chop joked as he walked past Archie’s car alongside Izzy with Finn trailing a short distance behind. As the gang approached the queue where their tickets were scanned, the music from the main stage became increasingly louder until the large stage surrounded by a massive crowd of people was visible a short distance away in the wide open grassy field. “I’m gonna go buy a schedule from the tent over there so we can plan out what bands we want to see on which stages,” Archie said as he walked away from the gang and towards a small tent close to the entrance to the festival. Rae stopped walking and looked out at the massive crowds of people gathered around the five stages and various pop-up shops selling food and band merchandise in awe. “Is it everything you thought it’d be, Rae?” Chop asked as he walked up beside Rae and draped an arm across her shoulders. “It’s amazing, Chop. I could never thank you enough for getting us these tickets for the Endless Summer Fest months after the tickets available to the public had sold out.” She replied as she turned and pulled Chop in for a hug. “I can’t take all the credit. It helps to know the right people, but Finn really did all the hard work and pulled the necessary strings to score us free tickets!” “I suppose you’re right,” Rae replied reluctantly. “You’re welcome, by the way,” Finn said as he walked up beside where Chop and Rae stood and intentionally ran into Rae’s shoulder as he passed them, “not that I actually expected you to have any manners or show appreciation for me offering you a free ticket as well, May.” “What a prick,” Rae muttered as she removed herself from Chop’s embrace and walked further down the small grass hill to catch up with where Izzy and Chloe were standing. “Wow, this place is massive! I hope we don’t get lost!” Izzy said as she looked around at all the stages and tents set up as far as the eye could see. “I’m sure we’ll be fine as long as we stick together,” Rae replied with a small reassuring smile. “The last thing we need is any of you getting lost or something, and from what I recall from past years the cell phone reception in this area is shit, so make sure you always use the buddy system and stick with the group!” Finn replied, earning a scoff from Rae. “Perfect. We’re using the buddy system like we’re six bloody years old again, are we?” “Looks like it. At least it’s right at your maturity level, right May?” Finn quipped before walking away. *** After the gang had planned out which bands they wanted to see and determined where each band would be performing and when, they had mapped out the best strategies to ensure that they had the best views of the stage for the more important bands they were waiting to see. “How long do we have until the next set we’re gonna see?” Rae asked as she looked over Chloe’s shoulder at the list of bands and set times printed on it. “Uh, close to an hour, just like the last time you asked a few minutes ago,” Chloe replied with a chuckle. “I’m sorry, I’m just getting tired of sitting here waiting. None of the stages have anyone worth watching right now and the band currently playing is utter shit.” “Finally something I agree with you on,” Finn muttered as he pulled his pack of cigarettes from his back pocket and brought one up to his lips to light it. “Well if you two are both so miserable, you should go look around at some of the vendors or go buy something to eat or drink or something. If we want to have a good spot in the crowd, a few of us will have to stay here to keep the space, but if a few of you want to wander around that’s fine.” Archie replied as he switched from talking to Rae and Finn to the gang as a whole. “I can stay here,” Chloe said. “We’ll both stay too,” Izzy added after looking at Chop to see if he had a preference. “So it’s settled. You two can go off exploring for a bit and the four of us will keep our spots in front of the stage,” Archie said to Rae and Finn, “Try not to kill each other before we’re able to see all the bands that we came here to watch, alright?” “Ugh, whatever. Do you at least want us to get you all some drinks or something while we’re walking around?” A chorus of “sure” and beer orders resounded from the gang and Rae tried to commit everyone’s requests to memory before beginning to walk away with Finn trailing a short distance behind. “Oh, and one more thing!” Archie called after them, causing Finn and Rae to turn back around, “Don’t forget to use the buddy system!” Rae groaned and continued walking, but she did not miss the shit-eating grin Archie gave them or the laughter from the rest of the gang coming behind her. *** “Can this line move any slower?” Rae muttered to herself as she stared at the line to buy beer and other beverages from the vendor next to one of the smaller stages that bands were performing on. “I dunno, but I could check with them and see if they could call in the favor for ya,” Finn replied sarcastically. “Whatever,” Rae replied with an eye roll as she turned away from the line to face the stage closest to them. In the time that she and Finn had been standing in line for drinks, the band that had been on that stage finished their set and a new one was already a couple songs into their own set. “Good afternoon! I see a lot of new faces out there, so in case you don’t already know, we’re Eva and the Shouty Humans!” A petite woman with a hot pink pixie cut hairstyle called loudly into the microphone. “Wow, I can see where they got that band name. She’s rather ‘shouty’.” Finn mumbled. “I’m fairly certain she’s ‘Eva’ in the band name, so if she’s already this much of a screamer, I hate to imagine how shouty her bandmates are!” Rae added causing Finn to chuckle. As Rae listened to the loud, screaming punk music of Eva and the Shouty Humans she was pleasantly surprised to learn that their music was actually pretty decent. The line for beer had been slow-moving, but by the time they neared the front of the line, both she and Finn had actually become interested in watching the band’s performance. “They weren’t half bad,” Finn mused as the band left the stage. “I don’t know that I would’ve listened to them if I stumbled upon them under different circumstances, but I think they put on a great show,” Rae agreed. Rae felt her phone vibrate in her pocket and she pulled it out with a small groan. “What is it?” Finn asked with a small smirk pulling on his lips at Rae’s response. “Chloe is getting impatient and texting me,” Rae replied before returning her attention back to her phone screen. >WHERE >ARE >YOU >GUYS Rae rolled her eyes and typed out her response, sending one word at a time as well because two can play at that game. <WE’RE <FUCKING <GETTING <DRINKS As she clicked send on the final single-word text message, the symbol on the top of her phone indicating that she had cell service disappeared and the messages that she typed were taking much longer than expected to send. “Oi, I heard it’s supposed to rain today,” one of the people in front of Rae in line said to their friend in line with them. “Is that so? Well hopefully it’s not as bad as the storm the night before Endless Summer last year. They had to postpone for weeks because the damage to one of the stages was so bad!” Both having eavesdropped on the conversation in front of them, Rae and Finn simultaneously looked up at the sky to see if there were any traces of clouds or signs that a storm was on its way. Rae noticed that Finn had done the same thing she had, so she gently nudged his side with her elbow to get his attention, making him chuckle sheepishly. “Alright, you two. What can I get for ya?” asked one of the vendors selling drinks. “Oh, it’s about fucking time,” Rae muttered in relief as she and Finn stepped forward to order the drinks. *** “Do you need me to carry one of the drinks for you?” “Finn, you’re already struggling to balance four cups of beer,” Rae replied, “I think I’ll be fine with carrying these two cups of beer and a bottle of water. But thank you.” Finn and Rae kept walking through the crowds of people trying to get back to the main stage where the rest of the gang was waiting for them, but after a few minutes, Finn stopped walking. “Wait, Rae, I think I just felt water hit my arm. Is it starting to rain?” “You probably just splashed a little bit of beer—oh wait! I felt water hit my face too!” When Rae looked up, she could see that there were more clouds than there had been before, but she continued to feel one drop after another hitting her face in rapid succession. “Hurry! Let’s get under this tent over here, yeah?” Finn suggested as the rain picked up even more. “Where the fuck did this storm come from?” Rae asked once she and Finn were both under one of the tents that was used to sell band merchandise. “It’s the curse of Endless Summer Fest,” replied another voice from behind them, “for the past four consecutive years something has gone wrong during Endless Summer that makes them cancel or postpone and by the looks of this rain, I don’t think this year is the exception!” “Wow, that’s insane!” “Since it looks like we’re all gonna be huddled under this big tent until the rain slows, I might as well introduce myself. My name is Eva,” “Oh! As in Eva from ‘Eva and the Shouty Humans’?” “The very same!” “Very cool! We caught your set earlier today and we both really enjoyed it!” “Thanks man! I appreciate it!” Finn continued chatting briefly with Eva and her bandmates that were under the tent as well while Rae went to the far edge of the tent to watch the pouring rain that was already beginning to pool and make the large grass field muddy. “So much for getting to see all the bands we wanted to today,” Finn muttered as he walked to stand next to Rae and watch the rain, “by the looks of it, they’re gonna have to cancel the rest of the festival tonight.” “Do ya think so?” “Yeah, all the rain and moisture fucks with the sound equipment and the muddy fields are considered a safety hazard.” “Ah, well so much for today being a fun ‘end of summer’ outing for the whole gang,” Rae replied with a slight chuckle. “Tell me about it. After all the trouble I went through to get the tickets for us all to come and now the festival gets canceled. That really is just my luck,” Finn muttered. “Which reminds me,” Rae began, “I know I was being a dick about it earlier, but I really appreciate that you got me a ticket for today as well. I’m sure this all started out as a lads trip until Chop basically begged to bring Izzy along too.” “Hah, this was hardly ever going to be a lads trip,” “What do ya mean?” “Well, uh...let me ask you a question. Who of the gang was actually excited to see any specific bands performing today opposed to just going to the festival overall?” “Well Archie likes a couple of the bands, I think. But I suppose...maybe, just the two of us.” “Exactly. The others would enjoy the festival, I’m sure, but they wouldn’t have the same appreciation and excitement about seeing the bands performing that you or I do.” “So you’re saying that you got tickets for the whole gang to come to Endless Summer...just because you wanted me to come so you had someone to obsess over the music with?” Rae laughed. “Well, ya don’t have to laugh at me,” Finn mumbled.

“Oh, come on!” Rae said as she wrapped her arms around Finn and rested her head on his shoulder, “I’m not laughing to mock you, I just wouldn’t have expected you to go to all that trouble just for me!”

“Would you honestly have agreed to come if I’d just asked you and said it’d be the two of us?” Finn countered. “Most likely not,” Rae replied sheepishly, “I probably would have assumed you had ulterior motives for inviting me and told you to go fuck yourself.” “Exactly, so if I wanted you to come to Endless Summer with me, I knew I had to invite the whole gang. I’ve been planning out what I wanted to say to you today after each band performed all week because I wanted today to be fun and was hoping that if we could find common ground with some of the bands, we could get along for just one day.” “Well, I suppose your plan worked,” Rae replied with a shrug.

“I mean, I think this is the longest you and I have spent time in each other’s company without bickering. It’s kinda nice.” “It is kinda nice, isn’t it?” Rae agreed with a smile, “And even if the festival did get rained out and today was a total disaster, thank you for wanting to invite me as somewhat of a peace offering anyways.” “Any time, Rae!” The two fell into a comfortable silence as they watched the rain slow to an almost complete stop after nearly an hour, but Finn could not help but notice Rae trying to contain a shiver as a breeze blew by. “Are ya cold, Rae?” “A little bit, but I’m fine really. It’s just that my clothes are still damp from when it first started raining.” “Oh, right! I might have something I can lend you...” Finn replied as he pulled his backpack from his shoulders and opened up the main pocket. “No, it’s fine, really!” “Too late!” Finn replied as he pulled a dry flannel shirt from his bag and handed it to her, “I planned for it to get cold in the evening, so I brought along my flannel. It’s a good thing I did too, huh?” “Thanks, Finn. I’ll be sure to give it back later,” Rae replied quietly as she slipped her arms into the sleeves of the flannel and tried to huddle into it for warmth. “Hey! Your name was Finn, right?” Eva asked from a few feet away as she walked up to where Finn and Rae stood, “I just got confirmation that they canceled the rest of the festival today and they’re ushering everyone to the exit now that the rain pretty much stopped. If either of you two need a dry shirt, we’re more than happy to give you one of our band tees, free of charge.” “Oh, yes, please! Thank you!” Finn replied as he followed Eva to go pick out a dry shirt for him to wear. Rae pulled her phone from her pocket to check if she had any new messages from the gang, but only saw one missed text message from Chloe: >WHAT THE FUCK Rae rolled her eyes and sent a text to Archie letting him know she and Finn would meet them by the cars and then slipped her phone back into her pocket. When she turned around to see if Finn was ready to start walking back to the parking lot to meet the gang, Rae gasped lightly when she noticed that he was in the middle of removing the wet shirt he had been wearing before putting on the new shirt he had gotten. “Holy fuck,” Rae muttered as she watch Finn change shirts in front of her. “Did ya just say something, Rae?” “Oh! No! I mean, yeah, I was just gonna say that I told Archie we would meet them by the cars.” “Okay, perfect. We can head over there right now!” Finn and Rae thanked Eva and her bandmates for the free shirts and for letting them hide from the rain under their tent before beginning the long walk back to where the cars were parked and they were supposed to meet up with the gang. *** Just as the gang was coming into view, Rae stepped into a particularly muddy patch of grass and nearly slipped, had it not been for Finn grabbing her arm to steady her. “Be careful, girl. I don’t want you slipping in the mud and getting yourself hurt,” Finn replied with a smile as he pulled her hand into his while they walked. Chop turned around and noticed Finn and Rae walking up to their car together and began calling out to them and wolf whistling. “So kind of you two to show your faces finally,” Chloe replied with a scoff. “What do ya mean? As soon as it started raining, we went under a band’s merch tent until the rain stopped and then we walked straight here.” “Uh huh...sure you did,” Chop replied with a wink. “It also looks like you two may have changed clothes since we last saw you. Isn’t that your favorite flannel that Rae is wearing, Finn?” Archie asked with a smirk. Finn rolled his eyes and ignored the gang’s heckling as he and Rae neared, but Rae still decided to remove her hand from his. “Are we ready to head out now? I could really use some warm food,” Archie asked. “Me too!” Izzy replied before turning to face Rae, “Rae is it alright if we trade places and I ride with Chloe and Archie this time?” “Uh, sure,” “Perfect!” “Oi, Finn!” Chop called to get Finn’s attention before tossing his car keys to him, “Take care of my girl, alright? And be careful with the car too!” Finn stood beside Chop’s car in confusion as Chop gave him a wink and raced to climb into the backseat of Archie’s car next to Izzy. “Uh...so I guess that leaves you stuck riding with me, huh?” Rae joked as she walked towards the car. “Looks like I’m the one that lucked out then,” Finn replied with a smile as he walked around to the driver side door, “Is it just me or were the gang acting really weird?” “No, I got that feeling too,” Rae replied with a shrug as they both climbed into the car and got settled, “I’m sure it’s nothing.” “Huh, alright. Do you wanna pick the music for the drive back or do you trust my taste in tunes?” “Let’s see what you have to offer. I’ll be giving each song marks out of ten, so you better impress me!” “Oh, you know I always aim to please, girl!” Finn replied cheekily as he turned on his favorite playlist and began driving. THE END

A/N: So this story was inspired by a post I saw on Tumblr and I just felt compelled to work a story I had already drafted up around the post haha. I based this story off of my own experiences going to summer music festivals because where I live, we get a lot of severe storms that come out of nowhere during our monsoon season towards the latter half of summer. Every year, summer music festivals have to be canceled/postponed due to the weather and does anyone learn and plan the festivals for early summer or a better location? Nope! I also used a band name generator to come up with that punk band name, which turned out to be a very accurate name to describe the band I was writing about lol. Surprisingly good, but quite shouty.

I also thought it’d be fun to make Finn and Rae unaware of the confusion caused by the unsent text messages, because I never realize when a text I sent didn’t send properly until it’s too late lol.

Anyways...until next time: Stay awesome, my friends! :)

JSE Day 24: Clues

Day 24 of the JSE artists prompts by @septic-bella

**All previous entries are available on AO3 under the title “Mayhem” with my same username.**

               Chase yawned as he reassembled his gun, putting it back in the case and closing it. It was strange to hold it again, and somehow feel alright. He’d tried to kill himself just days before, and yet now a gun was sitting on his desk, and there was nothing. Of course, if Anti was telling the truth, the hallucinations had been purely withdrawal symptoms, and thanks to Jamie he wasn’t having any of those anymore. He made himself stand up and stretch. He had responsibilities beyond not shooting himself in the head again.

               The recording room was dark and cool with the machinery turned off; Chase sat in his rolling chair and turned on the computer, his only link to the fans whose theories had proven useful before. He read through social media, trying to cover as much ground as possible without missing anything small. He hadn’t mentioned any of this to the others, afraid that he’d just end up looking like an idiot, but some of the fans were making valid points ever since he’d started dropping Anti hints in hopes of stirring up something. What is Anti, what is his connection to Jack, are we feeding him with our attention?

               Chase played the part, leaving reactions and cryptic comments here and there, trying to guide them to something useful. It wasn’t easy, and he wasn’t as smart as Marvin. Marvin could have really gotten them talking. He rubbed his eyes and switched platforms, skimming through relevant tags. What if Anti lives in electronics, and every time Jack records or streams, Anti gets stronger?

               “A little hard to worry about that when he’s outside stabbing your friend,” Chase muttered.

               There were several other things, fan arts and kind messages that he paid special attention to, responding and reacting; for a moment, while doing this, he was Jack, and the ugly parts of his past went away. He smiled as he scrolled through, settling into the role like it was made for him—perhaps it was. What with the stream coming up, and Jack now settled safely in the lab, maybe this was his identity now, his mission. He was reminded of Anti again when his comments started to catch traction, skittering along and then bursting into flames the way they always did. Chase was briefly reminded of how Anti had bounced over the top of Henrik’s car, and he chuckled. If only he’d been able to record that for a video. It would have been a hit.

               Things were getting stranger and stranger online, glitches and lag and crashes, but that was to be expected as the outside world grew more and more distant. It was more of an annoyance than anything. Chase hadn’t been able to watch Netflix for days. He and Jameson had settled for DVD’s for a while, but they had rapidly lost their charm. Who the fuck watches movies on disc anymore? Chase chewed his thumbnail as he scrolled through the last of the posts that he’d set aside. He reached for his bottle of whiskey. It was half full, and he reminded himself to ration it. He couldn’t go over the line. He had to be careful. Otherwise he’d get Jameson in trouble and he’d stop being able to be Jack—being able to help Jack. “Fuck, Chase. Get ahold of yourself, buddy. You’re just tired.”

               You’re just Jack. Confused? You’ve been playing around with these egos for too long. You’re slipping, Jackaboy.

               Chase rubbed his face and sat back in his chair, “Ok maybe that’s enough internet for today.”

               Don’t forget to set up the stream. Don’t forget to queue the video for tomorrow. Don’t forget to-

               “Right,” Chase muttered. “Right fuck. I got it. Lots to do, Jackaboy.”

               Lots to do. Can’t let the fans down. Have to keep the mayhem going. Have to tease Chase’s return. Have to ask where Schneep is. Have to-

               “He’s in the lab,” Chase said. “Fuck he’s… he’s right in the other room. He’s right here. I’m right here. What am I saying?”

               You need sleep, Jack.

               “I need sleep. Right. I’ve been working too hard.”

               You need a lot of sleep.

               “Like a coma,” Chase said, snorting. “Like… what? No. I have to finish this tweet. I have to finish this fucking… where’s Schneep?”

               Wish you were here.

               “Wish you… were…”

               Jack. It’s Chase…

               “Time is broken.”

               Chase ripped the headset off and threw it, jumping out of the chair, “Fuck this! Fuck I have to sleep. Shit!”

               He rushed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Jameson was sitting on the floor in front of the couch where Jackie was lying. They were both asleep. The lab light was on and Marvin’s door was open. Everybody was fine. Everybody was here. Chase went to his room and fell into bed without even taking off his hat, and sleep grabbed him like a pair of clawed hands, dragging him under.

               You have to wake up.

57 Facts

I was tagged by the lovely @pink-chevalier, thank you ❤❤

Let’s see if I got 57 facts in me, lol.

My car, Sheila, is a stick shift. I’ve been dirving stick since I was 19. My dad taught me and I got it down within a day. The hardest part is stopping/going on a hill.

My favorite color is blue, but I love the darker shades of blue. They speak to me. (And they also taste good no matter what it is).

I’m 30, but I look half my age. At least according to everybody. It’s a curse. And don’t give me that, “but that’s good~”. 

I won a Xbox One X from Taco Bell last year. I’m just as surprised as you are. I’m gonna try and see if I can win the white one this year, lol.

My Steam queue and game queue in general? It’s outrageous. 

I served in the military (Air Force). I fixed radio equipment and antennas. 

For almost 3 years because I have really bad shins.

I lived in Germany when I was 2months - 4 years old. I don’t remember any of it, but we have a lot of pictures.

I got kicked out of a major university marching band because I was frustrated with a lot of things and I may have made a F-bomb laced post. (And I talked to the higher ups about stuff but they didn’t listen/did nothing about it). Someone snitched on me; still don’t know who did it. This was back when FB was college-only.

I played the clarinet from 6th grade up until that point. Should have taken up saxophone if I’m gonna be honest.

And then like a semester later, I flunked out. 

When I make OCs, I put a lot of thought into them.

I had a tough love approach to making them, but I'm way gentler now. Mostly.

I tend to make them in pairs? Or eventually they end up being together, lol. I think one pair is married?? But they all tend to have old married couple traits, I think. They *clearly* love each other.

I would make them in TS4, but I forgot what they look like... 😟

I'm 5'0.

I powerlift! Which is *very* different from Olympic Weightlifting! And bodybuilding is completely unrelated to both!

I don't look the part though. Powerlifting brings all sorts of body types.

I've been competing in the 84kg weight class for 3 years, and counting.

I've won 1 1st place, and 3 2nd place medals.

My total right now is about 610lbs for all three lifts. I've got a ways to go to start competing on regionals/nationals.

I have a meet on Saturday and I'm super nervous about it, lol.

I'm single, not sure how to mingle, and at this point... kinda don't want to?

Never really been in a relationship; some times I'm alright with this other times I'm cursing the universe.

I'm demisexual, or, somewhere on the ace spectrum. Demi fits me the most currently. (What's up my fellow aces 🖐)

I'm not aro tho. Give me that romantic shit!!!

Didn't figure this out until I was a whole ass 25 years old, and I found out via here and my hella good friend! And it's been a goddamn ride.

Now that I think about it, Brian is (most likely, but he may be grey-A) demi. I think. Probably.

I've known my good friend for 20 years? Almost 20 years! They have a tumblr too and of course we're mutuals and I love them to bits :>

I'm pretty shy.

I *do* have a type. Well, types, but I do love characters that are strong as hell, but also really sweet??? Like they can fuck you up, but also loves baby cats. A "bad boy" but a sweet boy.

Physically?? Oof. I have a tag on my main that's like my jam, aesthetic wise. They're so handsome. But my fav body type is actually the "lumberjack' build. I like a little beef ~_~

I started making poses because a lot of poses didn't fit my boys/very slim pickings and hardly nothing spicy wise, and I could never find anything super specific that I wanted.

I pretty much learned on my own through a LOT of practice with the Pose Helper. There was like one tutorial using the pose helper, and that was it. Lots of trial and error. If you really want to go through it, go through my ts4 pose wip tag. Like alllll the way back. It was a rocky start.

I do the NSFW/spicy poses in cycles. Basically, when the mood strikes me. I'm not sure what theme I'm gonna go with for the next one though. I've been wanting to do some stripper poses, but also light bondage or something. Hmm...🤔

I do enjoy making them, but 😳

My favorite pose set is probably Bare Knuckle because, at the time, the most complex thing I made and I'm super proud of it. The idea of fighting a literal demon just... came up lol. I am considering doing another Muay Thai centered pose set, but pic refs are hard to come by. The one I used for BK deactivated :(

I use a lot of refs. It's very okay to use refs! Sometimes I have to adjust them to accommodate male frames.

I have a weighted blanket and it's fantastic and if you're able to get one, I SUPER recommend it.

I was born 2 weeks late. Yeah, lol. Sorry, mom.

I have an older half brother. He's out there doing... stuff.

I have 4 nephews. That I know of.

Up until last year, I was the only granddaughter of my grandma. Now I'm the oldest!

I am older than my uncle by 4/5 years. (He was a late/surprise baby lol)

I have a bad habit of making faces. I am *very* expressive. Basically, I'm a walking reaction gif, lol. And I have gotten in trouble when I was younger.

I know how to read maps. Like actual road maps, and I can navigate by sight too. When I was younger, my dad gave me the role on long trips to help me read and know geography. I don't get lost.

I'm pretty hungry right now...

I used to play DDR. Like, an absurd amount of it, allll the way back when Max2/Extreme came out. Now? I play when I can.

Not as good as I used to be, stamina wise, but I still get ridiculously high grades/marksbn on songs. The highest difficulty rating I was at when I peaked was 16s. That's out of a 20 scale. Now? I'm lucky to clear a 13/14. There's a HUGE skill difference.

I have trouble verbalizing things in general. When I'm writing/typing, I'm fine. But speaking?? Forget it.

I am a naturally quiet person, which tends to unnerve a lot of people? I just don't have much to say on a lot of things.

People tell me some wild shit, but uh, I forget because I have a shitty memory and attention span.

Never been in a fight, but I did punch this bully that was messing with me back in kindergarten right in the stomach. Just dropped him. My dad taught me :>

I've been on Tumblr for a LONG ass time... since 2010. I've seen shit. This blog is I think 6 years old? But only 3ish years since it became a simblr, hence the name. It was for my writings at first but ~nobody came~.

I really do love making poses, yall. Even on days where I'm feeling crummy, I try and do one pose. Don't matter what it is.

Every time I get a message saying that my posts/cc brightens someone's day, it makes my whole damn week. Thank you for nice words. I still have an anon message that was sent months ago, saying they really love John and Brian's relationship with each other, and depicting what love is. Thank you, anon 😭😭😭

I love and appreciate every one of ya'll. Thank you for following me and sticking around with this small simblr. :)

57 is a LOT, but I somehow did it. If you wanna do it, considered yourself tagged. If not, that's cool, and if you read all of the facts... congrats, lol.

[Uhh, updates?]

Wow. I can’t remember the last time I’ve journaled here. Maybe its not the time passing by so quickly that I can’t remember, more like so much has just happened that I feel like there’s so many to write. 

It’s been a year and a half now ever since the world became abnormal and we’re stuck at home. Home school, home socialization, home dating? So much has happened. So far, my life for the past few months have been one of the hardest ever since the pandemic. 

Academic wise, after I got a university scholar tag on my first semester in remote learning, I thought that “wow, I’m really good at teaching myself.” So when I had my two months vacation after that, I still studied and completed my requirements. I really had no real vacation, because I chose to, and that’s okay I think, perfectly splendid (bly manor reference). Anyway, second semester started and I was really confident. I could’ve taken extra units instead of the recommended. Turns out, the first semesters’ subjects are easier than second ones, and I started losing grasps on my acads. There were two 1 week breaks, but I didn’t take a break. We quarantined for two weeks because my dad was a close contact of a covid positive. Those two weeks were so...hard. Our house this small, and I had to hear all the noise. We can’t go out, so my dad had to find something to do - meetings, craft things -  all required noise. My brother’s cries wanting to go outside, my online meetings,  my mom’s stressed mumblings because we always have a problem with where can we find food.  It wasn’t the money, it’s whom we can request to find food for us because we can’t go out. I realized then how our nerighbor relatives don’t care for us, not one of them even asked us what we need. My tita from another town even drove to us to give groceries, the vendor whom mom always get vegetables gave us some, my lola who is quite old drops food on the door,  but these people, who are two steps from our doorsteps can’t even ask how we are, even in social media. I don’t think this is an invalid thought. They expect so much from “kamag-anak naman” when it comes from requests, but I swear I can pick up people who have no blood ties from us that act more of a relative than them. I can’t remember how I survived or what I did during the day if not being stressed. My mental health started going downfall from that point. I had to catch up to a lot of backlogs, I had already run for secretary in niners before we were quarantined. Then finals week came, and I knew I’d get an inc in one of my subjects. When I was finishing up the requirement that would get me an inc instead of a drop, along with midyear registration, my lola died. That day I was in queue for registration but had to leave the meeting because my mom was crying so hard. Brave was sick, too, at the time. Mom and Lyza had also just gotten better from fever. I felt so numb that day. My mom keeps doing chores while crying, cooked us fried chicken because Brave won’t eat any other food. I did my requirements in blur, one instance was I was in a timed quiz and Brave puked in the blanket. On normal days I would’ve just said sorry to mom and that I can’t help clean things up, which was in front of me, because I’m in a timed quiz. But all throughout the quiz I was just stopping myself from crying. I’m in a fucking timed quiz that is my last chance to get an inc instead of dropped grade, my brother puked in the blanket in front of me, my mom weeps while cleaning up. I finished the quiz, my mom was done, and I went to the bathroom to take a bath and cry. That day was so hard, my mom didn’t and her first meal was dinner. The next day we travelled to Malabon. That day I had to register because I couldn’t the day before. I was set on not enlisting for a GE subject because I didn’t think I could take anymore - even if i might be delayed. That day I even just want to drop midyear completely, but I know I’ll regret it later. I was just tired, and overwhelmed. I already informed my adviser about my situation, but she keeps giving me cold replies about being delayed and being responsible to my decision. I just though, ma’am, I fucking know. I felt so tired physically and emotionally. The next days, I stayed up 3 nights to watch my lola for the funeral, slept during the day because we’re younger and can stay up late/all night. The last day of funeral was my first day of midyear class. I did a plate the next day since the burial day was moved a day later. We buried lola, went back to cavite. The moment I opened the lights our house was a mess. Not by a person - by rats. They didn’t destroyed most of our things, but their mess was everywhere. Tired from the burial day and the 3 hours travel, we had to change the bedsheets, dust the stuff, sweep and mop the floor with bleach. We basically had an impromptu general cleaning. The mcdo take out we ate after the cleaning had to be one of the best meals ever. 

Home, that’s what I thought that time -  even Brave. He suddenly was back to his loud, smiling self again at home. He was different back in manila - silent, timid and not moving much. He can really only be truly comfortable here in our small house. 

My life continued after that. It was quite better. Orgwork, plates, I even had time for the paper quilling project I was working on. I also caught up with my friends. Kams, Pau, and me had time to hangout - I missed them so much. Pau is having a hard time with acads and maybe other stuff she doesn’t talk about too. Kams was away from here mom and sisters, and she’s not perfectly well either. But that night was so important for me. I miss them so bad. Gail, Erika, and me also hanged out - before we found a good movie it was so late. We talked and talked about the things we do, how are we doing mentally. Some moments were awkward - like we don’t know what to talk about. I found that quite cute actually. I appreciate spending time with each other so much despite not having much to talk about -  I still look forward to talking to them again. Jernil also went to our house, it was so great. If I have one friend whom I know can accept me fully for who I am, who can get along with my family so well, who can read my face and my chats and my moods easily, who can give me so much respect and tell me my mistakes - its jernil. She’s one of my best friends and I can’t live without her. Just hours ago - Shalom also chatted me after almost a year. She’s anxious about reaching out to friends - something I can relate to. It was a short talk - about 20 mins, and I invited her to hangout with some of our friends again. Shalom and I have a relationship bonded by deep talks. We rarely talk, and reached out each other when we needed advice, I once called her while crying ugly at dorm when I was so tired of everything - and I needed to hear someone’s voice. She quite saved me from being crazy when she answered that call, and I’ll never forget that. 

And here I am now, writing this. I was lying down after doing a plate, and I said I’d think tonight. I’m listening to Meltt -  a band I fell in love to because of Josh. I was thinking of Josh before I wrote this, when I first listened to Meltt because it was in his Bumble bio. Almost a year ago we were just talking like new friends do - what we do in life, principles, what we like in ourselves. How I gradually fell in love with him - still am falling til now actually. The times I’m listening to this music while thinking of how wonderful of a talker and a person he is. The day we first met - I can’t describe the warmth I feel in my heart, and in the veins of my hands whenever I think of him so close to me, finally. Now we are approaching our 7 month together. How I am not really that giddy to talk to him now - because he became my home, my comfort, my silence, my peace. 

So much to talk about right? Time seemed to fly so past. Sobrang dami kong narerealize about myself. Time is gold talaga these days. Even if it seems like sobrang dami mong time in your hands, every minute seems so important. Every minute you spend doing different things required so much energy from you. And I learned to prioritize and give time to things that are important to me. My acads, my skills, my hobbies, the people I love, securing my future, etc. If before, spending time with each ot these planets that make up my solar system was a natural thing, this pandemic it slowly became a task that I have to allot time and energy for. And I take care of myself so I can have the energy. And it’s always gonna be worth it, going through all the hassles -  because it makes me happy. My planets gives me purpose and genuine happiness. 

P.S. I missed writing my thoughts like these. Just for myself - transparent and peaceful. I’m glad for this day. The world is hell, but this life is still worth living, indeed. 

"We're in an exam study group and I just send you my nudes by accident oops" Minjoon

Pairing: MinJoon (Jimin x Namjoon)Prompt: “We’re in an exam study group and I just send you my nudes by accident oops” AU Rating: PGWord Count: 2,447A/N: *whispers* Minjoon is so precious ^~^ thank you anon for requesting and sorry I took forever with this (I hope you still get to read this)!! (P.S. Jimin’s doing the swearing on my behalf bc I swear that I don’t really swear at all irl – pun unintended) Enjoy!

Jimin’s phone vibrates once in his lap. He ignores it, working on the math problem he has in front of it. It vibrates again, then a series of vibrations start. Jimin curses under his breath, dropping his pen down to pick up his phone instead. 

There’s a flood of kakaotalk messages from Taehyung. 

[4:32PM TaeTae]im bored

chimchim

talk to me :( 

[4:33PM TaeTae] i hate math

save me

chimmm

why you ignoring me

chimmmmmmmmmmmmm

Jimin looks up and shoots a glare at Taehyung who’s sitting diagonally across from him at the table. Taehyung’s face lights up with a triumphant smile. 

[4:35PM Jimin]I’m trying to do my math problems, stop trying to distract me

Jabbing the home button, Jimin picks up his pen and goes back to staring at the same question that he’s been stuck on for nearly 20 minutes. There’s a reason Jimin’s here, stuck in study group past 4pm on a Friday afternoon rather than practicing his dance moves in the studio. 

Whoever deigned it necessary for a music student like him to take math in university should rethink their lives. How the hell is math even remotely needed in his degree? Something about holistic education and well-roundedness or some shitty excuse is what the deans will say but that’s honestly a ton of bullshit. Bullshit that has people like Jimin suffering because his midterms came back with an ugly 30/100 on the top and a “see me” post-it note tagged on the side. Taehyung had the nerve to laugh at him when he barely scraped a 33/100 on his. 

So here they are, stuck in a study group that’s supposed to coach them into passing finals. Jimin’s only here because the fear of having to retake the module and suffer another semester of math is real. 

His phone starts vibrating again. Jimin tsks under his breath, trying his best to ignore it, which is nearly impossible when his phone is basically wiggling its way dangerously close to his crotch. Stupid Taehyung and his non-existent attention span. Resigned, Jimin sighs and picks up his phone again. 

[4:37PM TaeTae]im still bored 

dont be mean chim

stop ignoring em

me*chimmmm lets go for tonkatsu later

i feel like treating myself after this torture

[4:38PM TaeTae]yah i know you can feel your phone 

if you keep ignoring me im gonna tell namjoon hyung you have the biggest crush on him 

i swear 

Jimin sucks in a breath. Dammit why did he ever let it out to Taehyung about Namjoon? He should have known that Taehyung would use it to blackmail him someday. 

Not that intoxicated Jimin had cared a week ago when he, in Taehyung’s words, “wailed for a solid hour about Namjoon hyung’s beautiful gaze and lips and body and everything”. And no, Jimin is still adamant that he couldn’t have been as pathetic as what Taehyung makes him out to be. It’s just a tiny crush okay, Jimin can appreciate good aesthetics and that’s not his fault.

[4:40PM Jimin] You wouldn’t actually do that

[4:40PM TaeTae] you talking to me ~\(≧▽≦)/~

so tonkatsu?? 

and if you ignore me i will 

[4:41PM Jimin] Whatever, Namjoon hyung won’t believe anything you say 

Do your work. I’m going to mute kakaotalk.

Satisfied, Jimin does exactly that. Taehyung can’t disturb him now and he can have the last 20 minutes of study group for math practice. Extra exam preparation questions that he has to hand in on Monday and still has no idea how to do. Jimin suddenly feels the urgency in his bones. 

Inherently, Jimin is someone who hates relying on others for help. It makes him feel somewhat worthless, inadequate in a way that leaves an unsettling feeling swirling in his gut. Which is why he’s debating hard whether or not to actually bring up his questions to their study group mentor now. 

The choice should be pretty obvious, because putting his pride down now is better than taking the walk of shame to the front of his tutorial class to meet the professor. It should be obvious, except that Namjoon is their study group mentor. Yeah, the very Namjoon that Jimin has a tiny crush on. 

Jimin bites his lip. It shouldn’t be a big deal really. Namjoon doesn’t even know he has a crush for god’s sake. Besides, Jimin’s pretty sure at least a fifth of the juniors in school have some sort of a crush on Namjoon. Namjoon who is tall, charming, smart and really nice and helpful to all juniors. Jimin probably needs his fingers and toes (maybe Taehyung’s too) to count the number of times he’s overheard whispered conversation and soft squeals over senior Kim Namjoon. 

But that said, the math problems are still leering at him. Forget about having any choice, Jimin doesn’t want to die of shame on Monday submitting a blank paper. Sighing, Jimin picks up his phone, turning on the camera app to take pictures of the questions he’s been stuck at. 

Namjoon has this system in study group, where they can send him pictures over WhatsApp of the questions they need help with so that he can look over the questions while helping the previous student. It’s somewhat like his own queue system that he’s implemented and it works. And yeah, it’s specifically WhatsApp, not KakaoTalk. Taehyung said and Jimin quotes “that Namjoon hyung is way too English-ified”. As if that really explains why Namjoon prefers an American chat app over a Korean one. 

Jimin opens Whatsapp and opens a fresh chat with Namjoon. His phone vibrates, banner on the top of his screen displaying WhatsApp notifications from none other than Taehyung. The first one reads “you really muted!!!!” and the second announces an attached photo. 

Rolling his eyes, Jimin decides to quickly attach the two photos of questions that he has to ask Namjoon before attending to Taehyung’s messages. He absently clicks the last two photos in his gallery and clicks send. 

Okay, now to entertain Taehyung while he waits for his turn with Namjoon. He’s about to exit the chat with Namjoon when something catches his attention. The first photo sent doesn’t have a plain white background. It’s definitely not his question paper. Jimin blinks, scrolling up so that the whole photo comes into view. 

“Fuck.” The girl sitting beside him shifts her gaze to glare at him but Jimin barely notices. “Fuck no no no, please don’t send. Oh god, please don’t." 

Jimin fumbles with his phone. The two grey ticks appear. Jimin collapses back in his seat with a small whimper. Opposite, Taehyung glances up in mild concern. 

This can’t be real. Maybe it’s just a bad dream, yeah? Maybe he’s getting so exhausted from math that he’s starting to hallucinate. It can’t be real, right? Jimin nearly jumps in his seat when his phone vibrates again in his hands. A banner notification from Taehyung that says ”what’s wrong chim“ and then ”you scaring me“. 

He’s still in the chat with Namjoon. Jimin swallows, throat dry. He blinks hard once, twice. The grey ticks are still there, mocking. Jimin wants to cry.

This is worse than any walk of shame to see his professor. Because right above his picture of his math problem is one of Jimin sitting in a tub, clothes trail on the bathroom floor as he hugs an empty soju bottle. Naked and drunk stupid. And if that isn’t bad enough, it’s most definitely Taehyung’s Snapchat capture because there’s a text banner that Taehyung’s kindly covered his exposed crotch with that reads "AWW LOVERBOY CRYING OVER JOONIE HYUNG”. Jimin doesn’t know if he’s supposed to be thankful for Taehyung salvaging the last bit of his dignity. 

Of course Jimin is that dumbass that never switched off the function on WhatsApp that automatically downloads media into his phone. Taehyung had told him once to switch it because “it downloads useless photos and takes up space”, to which Jimin had shrugged and muttered something about having 256GB to spare. 

And it’s here to bite him in the ass now. Taehyung was probably sending him proof of blackmail material he has of Jimin’s crush on Namjoon, which Jimin knows Taehyung will never actually use to blackmail him. Except he just had to send it before Jimin got about to sending his math questions and obviously Jimin is the idiot who doesn’t check what he’s sending and just clicks the latest pictures. 

The rest is history. History that has Jimin freaking out all over again. Taehyung’s flooding him with messages now, to which Jimin replies with a simple “fuck you” because he can’t take all the blame for his battered pride. 

Jimin’s back in his chat with Namjoon, math now forgotten, and still internally panicking when it happens. The grey ticks turn blue. It’s like everything comes to a standstill and Jimin stops breathing. Namjoon read the messages. Namjoon fucking saw the pictures. 

It’s like a slap of cold water to his face and Jimin sucks in a sharp breath. He needs to get out of here. Screw study group, he’ll ask for a transfer or just stop attending. He can’t face Namjoon, not now, not ever.

With shaking hands, Jimin grabs his bag, haphazardly stuffing his homework and stationery in. 

“Chim,” Taehyung hisses from across the table. Jimin ignores him. He doesn’t have enough focus outside of his panic to actually care. “Jimin, what’s happening?" 

Jimin zips his bag up and stands, setting his eyes on the door. He can feel a few curious stares and from the corner of his eye, he sees Taehyung standing to follow him. 

With his head down, Jimin makes a beeline for the door, making sure to shut it softly behind him so as not to make a scene. Hurrying down the corridor, Jimin feels dread curling like bile in his throat. 

As he rounds the corner, he hears hurried footsteps behind him. It’s probably Taehyung wanting to know what happened. Jimin doesn’t really want to talk about it. The magnitude of the whole situation is catching up with him and all he wants to do is curl up in a corner and drown in self pity. 

The footsteps close in, coming to a halt behind him. "Jimin-ssi." 

It isn’t Taehyung. Jimin’s breath hitches. Namjoon hyung. 

There’s a hand on his shoulder and Jimin turns out of reflex. Their gazes meet and Jimin immediately drops his, shuffling a small step backwards. Namjoon drops his hand to his side. 

The corridor is empty. Jimin’s partly glad that no one’s going to witness his death by shame. He doesn’t dare look up at Namjoon. 

The silence drags a moment too long and Jimin’s unconsciously starting to shift his weight from feet to feet when Namjoon sighs. Wordlessly, he lifts his phone, tilting it for Jimin to look at. 

Jimin chews on his bottom lip hard. Drunk Jimin stares back at him hazy and unabashed. Jimin kind of wants to fling the phone across the hall. He would do it, except it’s Namjoon’s. 

"What’s this?” Namjoon says finally. 

Jimin pulls at the hem of his shirt, scrunching it up and then letting it go. “I… I sort of sent you my nude by accident?” Internally, he winces at his choice of words. “Oops?” He adds, before his brain catches up and goddammit Park Jimin why can’t you play it off like it isn’t a big deal because it really isn’t. 

It shouldn’t be at least.

“Uhm,” Namjoon replies. “Okay.” He lowers the phone slowly. “I… the caption…” Namjoon’s voice trails off.

Jimin closes his eyes. Of course. Why did he expect? Taehyung and his stupid caption. Jimin contemplates lying and pretending that “Joonie hyung” isn’t the one standing right before him. There’s probably a dozen and one people who have the nickname “Joonie”, right? But Jimin is horrible at lying and it always tugs at his conscience. 

He takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” Jimin starts. “I mean, I was really going to send you my math questions. But Taehyung wanted to blackmail me and I didn’t turn off that auto download and it just sent and like, I had a crush on you since forever but half the school does too and you can’t blame be for appreciating good aesthetics but I don’t even know if you like girls or guys, I’m sorry I’m-”

Jimin breaks off when he feels fingers beneath his chin. He freezes. 

“You’re rambling,” Namjoon says mildly. He pushes gently, tilting Jimin’s face up, gaze searching. “Crush on me, huh?” Namjoon’s tone is light, teasing almost. He chuckles softly.

Jimin feels his face heat and he bristles. “I’m sorry I’m such a loser who doesn’t know how to ask his brain and heart to shut the fuck up about you,” he snaps. Dammit that came out all wrong. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap-”

“You’re apologizing a whole lot,” Namjoon says, a dimpled smile spreading. “Sorr- I mean…” Jimin wants to facepalm himself. 

Namjoon laughs, the sound of it making Jimin’s stomach flip. “Well,” Namjoon shrugs, “If you’re really sorry about it, you could treat me to coffee now.”

Jimin stares dumbly. Coffee, what?

Namjoon awkwardly rubs the nape of his neck. “I mean, if you’re free that is. I haven’t managed to answer your math questions after all, and study group session’s over.”

Right. The math questions, Jimin almost forgot. “Of course, I’ll buy you coffee, Namjoon-ssi." 

Namjoon scrunches his nose. "Just hyung will do,” he says, and Jimin feels something warm settle in the pit of his stomach. “Or Joonie hyung if you want,” Namjoon adds, shooting him a grin. “I don’t mind.”

“Please don’t remind me,” Jimin groans. “And can you please delete that photo and pretend you never saw it?” Namjoon shakes his head. Jimin feels himself deflate a little. “Why, hyung? Do you want it for blackmail too?”

“No, of course not!” Namjoon feigns an offended look. “What do you take me for? I just can appreciate good aesthetics.” Then before Jimin can register those words and respond, Namjoon places a hand on the small of Jimin’s back to steer him in the direction of the campus exit. “Come on, it’s a date!”

(They end up talking for hours over coffee and forgetting about tutoring. Jimin later insists that circumstances forced him to visit Namjoon’s apartment on a Saturday to do math while having takeouts, which somehow dragged on into movie night and Jimin crashing at Namjoon’s place. 

The rest is history. History that has Jimin calling Namjoon his boyfriend. And no, Taehyung gets zero credit because Jimin’s going to take all of it for himself.)

A/N: Thank you for reading this fic that got pretty long! I’ve never written Minjoon ever so I hope this is at least somewhat good (and cute maybe because it’s supposed to be fluff kinda). Also thank you to those of you who read my previous mini fics (and those who leave comments in your tags, they really make my day!)

Send me a prompt and a bangtan pairing, I’ll write you a short fic ♡

I was tagged by @negativefouriq (ily 🥺) and it seemed fun sooo

1. why did you choose your url?

I'm shocking at coming up with things like these but I knew I wanted to incorporate Spencer and I'm a huge fan of Renaissance-Era European History and thus spencers-renaissance was born 😌

2. any side blogs?

yep - @spencersren-18 is my nsfw sideblog (basically a rb dump) and @sren-insp is where I reblog things I might want to base a fic on!

3. how long have you been on tumblr?

it was the first social media I ever got, but this is my fourth blog and the only one I've ever posted oc on.

4. do you have a queue tag?

yup but it's just queue bc lowkey I don't like quirky queue tags lol

5. why did you start your blog in the first place?

because I had set a challenge to myself to write 12 fics before the year ended last year and I thought it would be a good idea to cross-post them here and keep track in a masterlist instead of keeping it all on ao3 and I'm so glad I did omg!

6. why did you choose your icon?

because the world deserves more sleepy moreid

7. why did you choose your header?

I'm obsessed with emily prentiss, and even more so emily prentiss: fringe edition

8. what’s your post with the most notes?

my autistic spencer fic: I found my way home !!

9. how many mutuals do you have?

I'm not sure but quite a lot!! I only interact regularly with a few but I love every single one <3 (also sometimes I think I'm mutuals with someone and then I find out later that it's just me lmao)

10. how many followers do you have?

I'm just coming up on 900 :)

11. how many people are you following?

470!

12. have you ever made a shitpost?

no lmao I keep them firmly in the drafts

13. how often do you use tumblr each day?

multiple times. it's my go-to social media to check as I don't use instagram/facebook anymore and only use twitter for news, politics & activism. I'd say like 5ish times a day?

14. did you have a fight/argument with another blog once?

uhmmm people have gotten mad when I've started gideon discourse lol but not really!

15. how do you feel about “you really need to reblog this” posts?

reblog bait in general is really triggering to a lot of people, but posts like these... it's a new level. inform people about the issue but don't demand things of them unless you want to push them away or only have people engaging with the topic out of guilt :/

16. do you like tag games?

!!! I love them sm BUT I so often get tagged in them and then completely forget about them bc they just get lost in my notifs

17. do you like ask games?

mm not so much, just because I don't get many anons so I always feel like a bit of muppet tbh

18. which of your tumblr mutuals do you think is famous?

hmmm the obvious ones that come to mind are @penemily and @criminalmindsvibez, but I also know @ssa-sarahsunshine @tobias-hankel and @makaylajadewrites are all very popular too!

19. do you have a crush on a mutual?

I barely get crushes in real life let alone on tumblr. however every single one of you is sexy as fuck and I do stand by that

20. tags

@goobzoop @criminalmindsvibez @physics-magic @bau-gremlin @willowrose99 @spencerspecifics have at it lovelies! <333

Inquiries on WIPs, lore, and what to do with both

Hi!

I hope y'all are well! I didn't expect to make a journal today, but here I am! I do hope I get some answers because I do have some thoughts and questions.

word wall under the cut

First off, I've done a lot of proofreading and re-outlining lately.

How I keep coming up with ideas, I don't know. Why I can never sit down and write prose except for when I'm meant to be doing something else is even more unknown. But at least I'm thinking, I guess. I like what I'm pondering.  I have done some intensive writing, though.

I made a manip that's been done and in the queue for months, and I liked it so much that I've made a whole novella (novel?) idea for it. If I do it right, then I hope to get about twelve (12) parts from it - they're all now planned - of which I've completed seven. I'm closer to eight (8) than not, so that's good, right?

Since the pic is done and so is its relative part in the story, should I just release it/them, or should I wait until it's all done?

I've even made a Wattpad/book cover for it; that's how much I like what I'm doing.

Regarding Welcome Home, Sasha, specifically, it's been plotted for months, too. But I'm having some issues with writing an expository soliloquy, aka the explanation of what the fuck happened to Earth.

The actual information is cut-and-dry, but I don't know how to best frame it. I find Ki to be an analytical person - sensible for a scientist, I suppose - but with a flourish. Putting his brotherly, almost fatherly love of Sasha on top complicates things further since he wouldn't want to break his heart... and the answer will definitely bruise at the very least.

Luckily though, how he'll react and everything after that is as straightforward as an apocalypse can be. Will I ever write it, though?

I technically have three (3) or four (4) continuations to long fics, but I don't know why I'm not releasing them. I want to, yet I don't? Is this my mediocre perfectionism in action? Is this normal?

Syntrophy has changed in my head, like, four times, regarding the relationship between the two MCs. Their separate stories have maintained but not how they connect to each other.

I wish I was kidding. There's so much I've deleted.

I've been adding excerpts to my manips and making visuals to go with stories. Read more about that in the next section.

Secondly, I've been conceptualizing visuals like mad!

Ideas just keep coming, and they don't stop coming.

The queue is probably at peak fullness, which is cool. I was hoping I wouldn't have to widen time between posting stuff because as much as popularity doesn't affect whether I make something, I wouldn't want y'all to just forget about me. You know?

I know some people don't even have a schedule or set up expectations, so I might just say "Fuck it," and leave submission dates to RNG. It hasn't been a problem, but I don't want pressure from time restraints to become a problem. We'll see.

Like the unnamed, new fic way above, some of my ready works are images from tales not-yet-released. I've done that before numerous times, but one in particular literally happens in what would be the literal next part to post, and I'm not done with writing it, yet, at least to where I'd like it to be.

Should I post the pic anyway, despite context being right behind a corner? I kind of want to, but I've already been putting it off so much...

I just really need to get motivated and focus using Pomodoro or something. Maybe I'd knock everything out if I did.

My most recent completion from literally this morning might just be my favorite in all my years of manip-making.

Meanwhile, the one finished right before it might be the worst thing I've ever made, and its excerpt just makes it worse. I enjoyed it thoroughly, though, which makes me question myself as I'm seeing patterns...

I want to draw/paint again. I've done stuff for IRL projects but not size content.

I need inspiration to just sit down and pen for hours or days.

Would y'all mind me doing sketches again? That'd be quicker.

Lastly, the real reason why I chose to make a journal:

I'm really considering putting expanded, not-yet-seen lore for my stories on my blog site (on WordPress), and I feel like I've pondered this before.

As repeatedly mentioned, I have too many ideas but not even drive to collect them all into something worthwhile. But I'd like to get them out there somehow so others can indulge in my babies as much as I do. Some creators have blogs just for certain stories and their characters, settings, etc. that I adore, and I want to feel that in a way, too. However, most people don't have ten (10) or more stories at once that they equally love. Fuck, I need to edit my blog with more pages for more things I've conjured but isn't there, yet.

I feel that by doing so on my site,

People who do want to know how a plot of a tale will go, because I write as quickly as molasses runs yet have an outline for everything, can know.

It'll be organized as I see fit but my own control (unless WordPress does something drastic).

In addition, the data wouldn't be directly attached to the works on other sites like here, either, in case ideas change or people are averse to spoilers and want to stay away.

Reading all this over, couldn't I put the same data/lore in DA journals, Tumblr posts, etc., too, adding tags or titles to mark what's what? Couldn't I also put the works themselves that are here or even the damn music list on my site, too? Should I?

Am I overthinking this? I think I'm overthinking this.

That's it, I think.

Does any of this make sense? Please let me know your thoughts on anything but mostly the blog stuff if you can.

(I've also put this on DA if you'd prefer to respond there.)

Stay safe, and Happy Equinox! I'm glad I'll see flowers blooming again soon.

~J