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carolinaboy34 · 8 months

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Art History

I’m a Biology major and planning to go to medical school, so most of my classes are in the science building, but I have core classes to take, so I have to venture into other buildings every once in a while. I don’t have to like it, but it is what it is. I decided to take Art History for one of my liberal arts requirements, and it was located in a humanities building far away from my Biology home base.

I was midway through the semester, sitting in this huge lecture hall learning about Renaissance Art, bored stiff. There were a few hundred people in the class, so I had no way of knowing them all or even getting to see them all. I noticed some movement to my left and saw someone walking down the aisle in front of everyone in my row. He was really sexy, tall and thin with an angular face and ginger features. He was wearing a dark blue hoodie and jeans, and his hood was pulled up over his head, but I could see wisps of red hair poking down around his eyes. He kept his eyes down but dropped a crumpled up piece of paper on my laptop as he passed by.

“AV room in the back” was all it said.

I looked back and saw him exiting the lecture hall. I grabbed my stuff and threw it into my bag before exiting the aisle and going up the stairs after him. I went outside and saw a door just outside of the lecture hall. I tried the handle and it opened, so I went in. He grabbed me and pulled me in, putting his finger over my lips.

“Shhh!”

He pushed me against the wall and attacked my face. His kissing was strong and passionate, and the sudden and elicit nature of our meeting was turning me on like crazy. I was hard as stone in my pants, and I started humping into him while he held my head and fought my tongue and licked my teeth.

I wrapped my arms around his back and held onto him tightly, feeling his tight muscles flex under his hoodie as he held me and humped back into me. His hard dick was pushing into mine, and he reached down and grabbed my ass with both hands, pulling me into him harder. He had a firm grip on my butt cheeks as he pulled, massaged and stimulated my muscles deep in my ass, and I pushed back against his hand to get him to grip me harder and pull me in tight. His dick felt huge, rubbing along mine, fighting for the same space between our tight bodies.

He kissed along my jaw then leaned in and started chewing on my neck, leaving spit in the wake of his kisses. I opened my eyes and looked out onto the lecture hall, where a couple hundred students were sleeping through a tired lecture on religious iconography in old paintings. I was able to look out and see the professor at the head of the class and many of the students. Luckily our windows were tinted enough that it was hard to see in the room, but I thought I saw another student looking back our way, almost looking me right in the eye! He stared for a few moments then smirked and turned back to the professor.

I realized I didn’t even know this guy’s name, but he kept chewing on my neck, and I was sure I was going to be full of hickies when this was over, but it is so worth it. I love that part of my neck being stimulated, and the sensations were shooting straight down my body and making my butthole tingle. He broke free and pushed me hard against the wall, breathing heavy and staring at me with an intensity I hadn’t seen for a while. He had his hands on my chest, pushing me into the wall. He squeezed my pecs and pushed harder, then pulled up my t-shirt to show off my abs and the waistband of my pants. He reached down and opened my belt then pushed my pants down to reveal the base of my hard dick. He reached around and pulled my pants down until they were just under my ass, pushing up on my butt, then he reached up and pushed me down by the shoulders until I was on my knees and looking at his hard dick outlined by his jeans.

He pulled my face into his crotch and rubbed it along his dick, the rough material of his jeans scratching my lips and cheeks as they were dragged across the hard length of his shaft. He wrapped both hands around my head and pulled me in tight, smashing me against his dick, and I tongued and chewed what I could, getting the material damp with my spit. I reached up and grabbed his tight ass and held on, kneading the muscle and feeling it flex as he pushed into me.

He let go of my head, and I leaned back some to catch my breath as he undid his belt and zipper, pushing his jeans and underwear down in one move. His dick, caught in the waistband of his boxers, sprang up when it was free and smacked me on the cheek, splattering me with his precum. I reached up and grabbed the shaft tight, holding it in front of my face and admiring the length and girth. He was above-average length and quite thick, with a smooth shaft and a clean circ scar around the glistening, pink head. His balls hung down loosely in a smooth sac, and his pubes were similarly shaved clean. His dick was burping out precum that ran down the shaft and gathered around my hand as I held on, squeezing tightly at the base.

He again wrapped his hands around my head and pulled me in, and I opened my mouth and took his head in, licking up the precum and surrounding his shaft with my soft lips. As my mouth took more of him in at the urging of his tight grip, my tongue ran over the shaft, enjoying the salty skin as it sunk further into my throat. The head of his dick was soon knocking on my pharynx, and I swallowed a couple of times and relaxed, letting him push into my throat and down my esophagus as far as he could get. He held me tight against his abs as his dick jerked and spasmed inside my mouth and throat, my forehead mashed against his treasure trail that ran from his belly button.

He let his grip loosen some, and I was able to pull up and catch a breath before going back down and taking him into my throat again. He kept pulling me down onto his dick, punching into my throat each time, his loose balls banging my chin with each thrust. His thrusting became more urgent, and I thought that he wanted to cum, but he abruptly pushed me off, banging my head against the wall with a loud bang. He looked over his shoulder at the lecture hall, but apparently didn’t see anything too alarming.

“I want in that sweet butt of yours!”

“Fuck yes!”

I stood up and leaned into the wall, pushing my butt out, the natural curve of it highlighted by the waistband of my pants. He grabbed onto it and squeezed tight, his grip pulling my butt cheeks apart and showing him my smooth, hairless hole. I winked it a couple of times, and he giggled, then ran a finger up my crack and over my quivering entrance. He hocked some spit in his mouth then let it drip over his lips and down into the crack of my ass, the hot liquid running down and over my hole. He did that a couple more times then used his finger to rub it in before bringing the tip of his dick up to my hole and kissing it. The head of his cock was covered in precum and my spit, and he ran it over my hole a few times to add to his spit and make entry easier.

“Ready?”

“Oh yeah! Split me open with that hot dick!

With that, he grabbed onto my shoulders and pulled down, pushing me onto his dick, as he pushed his body forward. He entered me and kept going until he bottomed out and his balls slammed into my taint. He spread my hole open quick, and my muscles quivered with the intrusion, sending shock waves up my spine to that special spot in my brain that loves being dominated.

He held still for a couple of beats until my butt stopped shaking, then slowly withdrew, my tight ring gripping his shaft as it left my body, until just the head was still inside me. I felt the ridge of his dickhead rub along my prostate as he came out, and my dick shot a big glob of precum into my underwear, still covering my front. He slowly thrust into me again, bottoming out against my ass and smashing my muscles against his abs. He repeated his slow withdrawal and reentry several times until my ass was relaxed and his entry was easier. He then started going harder, slamming into me before nearly coming all the way out.

We hadn’t made it fully into the room and were still in the doorway, and he pushed me against the wall with his strong grip on my shoulders, driving my chest and face into the cold plaster. I pushed my ass out against him as hard as I could, providing some resistance to his increasingly urgent thrusting until he was banging into me as hard as he could, sending ripples across my ass.

I reached up and pushed against the wall, bringing my body off the surface and pushing back against him harder and harder, until he fell back against the wall behind him, his shoulders slamming into the wall and shaking the window overlooking the lecture hall. He reached up and grabbed my hair in one hand and my head with the other and began slamming into my ass hard, as I pushed back against him. The shivers he sent over my ass and up my spine sent me around the moon, my whole body tingling with submissive ecstasy. I began moaning with each thrust into me, as he grunted each time he hit my ass. I pushed back against him and we were almost dancing, his dick staying fully lodged in my ass, but our bodies moving back and forth in a sweaty, moaning sexy mess. He used the wall as leverage to thrust our bodies together, holding my hair and head and pulling me back onto him, while I contracted my ass muscles around his thick shaft, milking him as best I could. My shirt was clinging to my sweaty body as we continued to dance, and I was thrusting back against him with each movement of his body. I couldn’t get enough. I was moaning louder and louder, until he reached around and covered my mouth with his hand.

“Shut the fuck up!” he whispered at me and kept thrusting into me.

My dick was still covered by my pants and was leaking a huge puddle of precum in my underwear. Our movements were rubbing the head of my dick in the wet mess of my underwear and driving me closer to orgasm. I was grunting more and more against his hand until I pushed back against him hard, slamming his whole body against wall and pushing his dick completely inside my hole. I shot into my underwear a huge load of cum, my body spasming with each explosion. My legs shook with the intensity of my orgasm, and I was breathing hard against his hand. My tight hole was grabbing onto his dick, and he pushed back against me and roared before shooting his cum deep inside my hole with 7 - 8 deep shots, coating the walls of my rectum with his searing hot load.

As we began to relax after cumming, I slumped against the wall, and my legs barely held me up. He fell forward against my back, his chest heaving and his hot breath sending goose bumps over my neck. He stood up, pulling out of my hole, which was still gripping his semi-hard shaft. I tightened my ring to hold his load inside me, wanting to feel it leak out the rest of the day. I stood and pulled my pants up, straightening my shirt and hair, then turned around to face him.

He was buckling his belt and pulling down his hoodie. I leaned in and kissed him tenderly on the lips.

“That was fucking amazing. Totally what I needed during this boring lecture.”

“Yeah, he is really dry. I’ve told him he needs to spice it up a little, but he is stubborn and set in his ways.”

I gave him a funny, questioning look.

“Oh, that’s my dad!”

“Ha! I hope he won’t mind us escaping for a few minutes.”

“Nah. He told me that he saw a cutie in our class and figured we might want to hook up. He knows he is boring.”

“I didn’t even get your name!”

“Andrew. And you?”

“Ha! Me too. I go by Drew.”

“Nice to meet you, Drew.”

“Same!”

We went back to the lecture hall, his father giving a slight smirk but not interrupting his talk. We made our way back to our seats, and I settled in for the rest of this class. The guy I saw looking into the AV room turned and pointed at his neck then cocked his head to me, and reached up and felt Andrew’s spit over the sore hickey. I winked and shrugged my shoulders, while my butt hole contracted and a glob of Andrew’s cum leaked out of my abuse hole and soaked into my pants, a great reminder of our dance in Art History!

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silvergyus · 3 months

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hii!! hope ur doing great!!

i was going to ask for some fluffy hueningkai smut for the valentines day event :)) i need more fics about him being infatuated w chubby women?

lessons in chemistry

pairing: hueningkai x fem!reader

summary: kai has been harboring a not-so-secret crush on his study buddy all year. what will happen when he gets an unexpected text asking if you can stay the night?

warnings: college au, friends to lovers, only one bed trope, reader is a few years older than kai ("noona" is not used), kai is a lil pervy, chubby!reader, reader's pubes are mentioned exactly once, experienced!reader, a teeeeny bit of dubcon (just over the clothes teasing), fingering (y/n receiving), protected sex

word count: 5,200+

author’s note: requested as part of my valentine's event 🏹💘 tysm for requesting!! I got a lil obsessed with this one and I really hope you like it!

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊

Kai had been infatuated with you since the start of last semester. The two of you sat near one another for a large science lecture. It was a gen-ed filler class for the both of you that you were just trying to get out of the way. Kai was a first year music major and you had just switched majors from fine arts to liberal arts and suddenly found yourself in need of a few more required science credits.

He fell in love with you the first moment he saw you, sitting down a row ahead of him in the dim lecture hall, the low light illuminating your features. Twice a week for three weeks he admired you fondly from his unofficial assigned seat. His notes were often lacking- sentences missing from the slides that he forgot to copy down while lost in the thought of you instead. You were the highlight of the dull class for him. He’d never forget the way his heart almost leaped out of his chest when you finally turned around to smile at him. Your smile was warm and inviting as you asked him to be your partner for an assignment. He’d never been particularly suave, but the stumbling, stuttered “yes, of course” he replied with was enough to make him want to curl up in a ball. But you just giggled, your laugh like music, accepting it in stride.

From that day on he was your study buddy, never missing a library date. The two of you worked on assignments together, studied for exams and shared snacks late into the night.

You grew close over the course of the semester, inside jokes blossoming between the two of you. You were older, more organized than he was. You knew your way around campus and the city and you were eager to offer your advice. You laughed at his jokes and loved to hear the recordings he made of his guitar and piano playing. As friendship grew between the two of you, so did his feelings for you.

Anxiety swirled in his head as winter finals approached, unsure of whether or not you’d be in the same lab section as him in the spring. He worried that if you weren’t, he’d lose his chance to talk to you. When you told him your schedule- classes aligning perfectly with his- he almost hugged you then. Relief flooded his chest, thankful for the chance to see you twice a week for an additional four months.

His friends had caught on to the fact that he was crushing on someone; they saw the way his eyes lit up when certain notifications flashed on his screen. They had been nudging him to invite you to study at the dorm, even promised to clean it so he wouldn’t be embarrassed to bring you by. But you lived off campus in your own apartment. Why would you ever want to hang out in his shared dormitory? No, he’d just keep doing what he was doing: being your cute and reliable study buddy.

----

You knew Kai had a crush on you.

It was obvious in the way he texted you back immediately, even when you knew he’d swipe away notifications for the rest of his friends. Obvious in the way he shifted in his seat if you leaned over his shoulder to look at his notes. Obvious in the way he practically vibrated out of the chair the first time you decided to sit next to him in the lecture hall instead of a row ahead. He always brought your favorite snacks and packed your favorite drinks when you met up for study sessions. You couldn’t remember telling him what your favorites were either, he just paid attention like that.

You didn’t mind, in fact, you liked having the cute boy’s attention. Kai was tall and broad and dorky and shy, but you had gotten him to open up to you, bloom like a flower into sharing his silly and passionate self. Kai was a good friend and a bit of an ego boost as well. Here was this tall boy with sharp cheekbones who cared about your thoughts and opinions. So, so what if you caught him staring down your shirt when he was supposed to be copying your notes? It's not like you hadn't stared at his ass in his jeans more than a few times.

And truth be told, you really did need him as a study buddy.

----

The cool of winter was slipping away to spring, first flowers peaking their heads out of the damp earth. Kai was losing his mind.

His friends had figured out more about you and the extent of his devastating crush and were making bets on how he would fumble you. Beomgyu had struck a particularly sensitive nerve with the simplicity of his bet: that Kai would just never get the nerve to ask you out for more than a library study session. It was stupid and it wouldn’t normally piss him off, but he was scared that they were right. He didn’t want to miss his chance with you.

You had become really important to him over the course of the school year and he couldn’t stand the thought of you just being a class friend, someone he lost after finals ended. He already experienced that anxiety when he worried about your spring schedule, but had lucked out despite his inaction. He wasn’t sure what he’d do now that the end of the school year was approaching.

----

The soft patter of rain filled the spaces in between notes as Kai worked on his piano final composition. He knew how the piece started, and how it ended, but he struggled to find the perfect rhythm to pull it together. He had been locked in his room for hours, long fingers dancing over the keys again and again, trying out new arrangements and then scrapping them when they weren’t right.

Nothing was right. Dejected, he pushed his chair away from his keyboard, pulling off his headphones and huffing as he reached for his phone, needing a distraction. He frowned when he saw two missed calls from you and a string of worried texts.

Hey soooo….

I left my bag in my ta’s office and I they won’t answer any of my emails and I don’t have their number

and my keys were in my bag….

and now I can’t get in my apartment 😅

and all my other friends are out of town..

can I please stay with you?

Kai called you immediately. You picked up on the second ring.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” He asked worriedly.

“Kai! Oh my gosh you called me back! Thank you so much, I wasn’t sure-”

“You can stay here.” He said quickly.

“You mean it?”

“Yes.” He was organizing his room as you spoke, throwing dirty clothes in the hamper and wrapping up charging cables. “Do you know which building I’m in?”

“I think so. I’m actually not too far away.”

Kai could hear the rain as you spoke, muffling your voice. “Oh gosh, do you have an umbrella?”

You laughed sarcastically. “Haha, no, but I’ll be there in ten minutes. Can you come down to let me in?”

“Yes, yes I’ll be there. Do you need me to stay on the phone?”

“No, uh, it’s actually getting kinda really wet. I’ll just meet you in the lobby.”

“Okay, stay safe. I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

You hung up and Kai immediately ran to his roommates to fill them in.

----

You were soaked head to toe when you walked into the small lobby of Kai's dorm building. He was nervously shifting his weight between his feet as he waited for you to arrive. His voice was laced with worry when he ran over to you, asking how you were doing the second you walked through the double doors. His worry was cute. You liked how much he cared.

“I’m okay, just cold.”

The elevator ride up to the dorm Kai shared with Taehyun and Beomgyu was filled with a charged silence, broken only by the patter of droplets falling from your clothes onto the floor. You hadn’t met either of his roommates yet, but you’d heard stories. You weren’t sure if you’d meet either of them tonight either, but all you really wanted to do was change out of your soaked clothes and go to bed.

Kai apologized for things being messy before opening the door, but he had no need. The small shared space was cleaner than expected for three college-aged boys. Each had their own room and then a shared kitchen and bathroom. You followed Kai to his narrow bedroom.

His standard-issue twin xl was filled with plushies, a grey bunny which was clearly the oldest and most well-loved sat in a place of honor in the very front. It made you smile, this display of softness. Beside the bed was his desk and keyboard just beyond that. The space was cozy with the low light of a singular bedside lamp.

You turned around to face the room’s owner where he stood in the doorway, suddenly awkward in his own space. “Cute room. I like your plushies.”

Red blush immediately tinged his ears. His eyes fell to the floor as he awkwardly laughed. “Haha, yeah um, I can move those.”

“You don’t have to.” The silence between you was still charged from the elevator, but you could barely focus on it with the way the cold rain had settled into your bones. “Um, is it okay if I take a shower? I’m freezing.”

“Oh! Uh, yeah- of course! I have an extra towel. Do you need clothes?” He began to rifle through his drawers. “I think mine will fit you. What do you want?” He was cute the way he looked over at you as if picturing each item in the drawers on your body.

----

Kai sat on his bed anxiously bouncing his leg as he waited for you to finish in the bathroom. He was trying his best to suppress the thought of you in the shower, water falling over your curves. He shook his head, trying and failing to shake out the thought of the river of soapy bubbles running between your breasts, trailing down over your plush tummy. But even if he shook that thought, there was still the fact that you would exit the shower and put on his clothes and then get in his bed. His head was spinning with possibilities.

His leg was bouncing fast enough for it to start to cramp by the time you walked into his room. His ears burned as he took you in. His dark pullover clung to your figure, settling at your hips. You smiled at him before turning to hang your towel on the back of his door. Oh no, he thought. He had fished an old pair of basketball shorts out of his drawer for you to sleep in since your clothes were hung precariously in the bathroom in an attempt to dry them. The fabric was stretched tight around your hips and ass, leaving little to his imagination. He stifled a groan at the sight when his hoodie rode up to show the dimples on your back as you reached up to throw the damp towel over the hook.

You looked so good in his clothes it made his head spin. He wanted to see you in his clothes all the time, wanted you to show everyone you were his. Wanted you to be his for real.

He was sure he looked like a wreck when you turned around, cocking your head to ask what he was thinking. “I um, did you- did you eat?”

“Yeah, I ate dinner before I saw my TA.” You sat down beside him on the bed. He could feel the warmth radiating off your skin from your hot shower. “Actually, um, I know it’s kind of early, but this whole thing has been really stressful and I’m just really tired.”

“Yeah, that’s okay. I’m sorry this happened to you.” He practically vibrated when you rested your head against his shoulder, not even caring if his shirt got wet.

“Not your fault.” Your voice was soft. “Thank you for letting me crash. I can’t tell you how much it means.”

“It’s no problem. I’d do anything if you asked.” Kai wasn’t sure how much he wanted you to read into that sentence.

----

The two of you talked for a bit before a big yawn prompted Kai to ask you about sleeping. He insisted that he’d sleep on the floor for you to take his bed. You argued back that you could take the floor since it was his room and just one night wouldn’t hurt you but he wouldn’t budge. You finally conceded and found yourself tucked under his covers next to his army of plushies.

The room was dark except for the dim glow of campus peeking through the blinds and the multicolor lights of his pc that lit the space with a shifting neon hue. You rolled over to peak over the edge. Kai was laying on the floor face up, hands over his chest. He was wide awake and his eyes immediately found yours. “Hey,” he whispered, “you should be sleeping.”

You couldn’t stand the fact that he was sleeping on the hard floor, shitty dorm carpet against his back and a throw blanket the only thing to keep him warm. This was his room after all. And beyond the injustice of kicking him out onto the cool floor, you didn’t want to let the opportunity to be wrapped up in his strong arms pass you by. “Can you please come up here?” You could see his eyes widen and before he had the chance to argue you used the line he couldn’t refuse. “I’m still really cold.”

He sputtered cutely, looking for words. “Are you sure?”

You kept your voice quiet as you pleaded; “Please Kai.”

He didn’t say anything as he stood up and climbed into the small bed. You moved to the far edge of the mattress, positioning yourself against the wall. You wondered how he slept comfortably here each night, his large frame filled up most of the narrow space, and you doubted that his feet weren’t hanging off the edge. With your body taking up space too, there was no way for the two of you to not touch.

Kai was shy with his actions, reverting back to the unsure boy you met at the beginning of the school year. “Um, uh- is this okay?” He asked as he gingerly settled his arm across your waist.

“Yes, perfect.” You backed up to snuggle into his broad chest. Heat radiated off of him, warming you instantly. “Mmmm, you’re so warm.”

----

Your body fit against Kai's like his matching puzzle piece. His arm slotted perfectly in the space between your tummy and chest. He felt like he was made to hold you just like this. This moment was perfect, everything he could've asked for after pining after you for months. He could breathe in the scent of your skin and hair, still slightly damp from the rain and shower. Here you were, in his clothes, in his bed, in his arms. He was on cloud nine. Everything was perfect.

Except for the fact that you kept wriggling your hips against him.

You had to be doing it on purpose. As far as he could tell you were sleeping, but the subtle movements of your ass against his front were driving him crazy. He had backed his hips up as far as he could given the narrow twin bed, but yours had followed. He prayed that you were asleep and wouldn't notice his half-hard dick pressed up against you.

He thought he was in the clear, your hips had slowed and he thought he'd make it through the night without embarrassing himself. He could do this- sleep with you in his arms then get up and jerk off in the morning before you woke up and it would be like nothing happened, like he wasn't cuddled up next to you thinking about how his hand was so, so close to your chest and your ass was so warm against him. He'd savor this moment for what it was and then make his move later. But then you spoke.

“Kai,” your whisper pierced through his thoughts like a hot knife, “are you hard for me?”

His mind blanked. Fuck, he was really in it now.

“It's okay if you are.” Your hand found his, drawing gentle circles on his palm. You continued playing with his fingers as the silence stretched, charged and electric between you. Kai didn't breathe, hanging on for what would happen next. “You know, I've seen the way you look at me.” You wiggled your hips again, slow and deliberate. “Saw the way you blushed when I came in here with your clothes on.”

It felt like Kai was on fire. His body blushed and he could feel the blood rushing to his cock. He felt guilty, caught in the act. “I know you have a crush on me Kai.”

He wanted to protest, began to speak a strangled “I-” but you cut him off.

“I have a little crush on you too.”

Your words knocked the air out of Kai's lungs. His head spun. You were in his bed, in his clothes, holding his hand, pressing your ass against his dick on purpose and you liked him back. He felt like he was short circuiting.

He could hear the smile in your voice when you whispered again. “You can touch me if you want.”

----

The silence stretched between you longer than you expected. Part of you worried that you had misread everything, that you had crossed a line. But after what felt like eons Kai's hand finally moved.

His fingers twitched in your grasp, fingers splaying out and holding onto your tummy over the sweatshirt. You were silent as he began to slowly move down, curiously slipping under the thick hem. You drew in a breath quickly when his fingers brushed against your skin. His fingers were slightly calloused from playing guitar, the rough pads of his fingers leaving goosebumps where they explored over your tummy.

“Tell me to stop.” His voice was low in your ear as his hand moved closer to your chest.

You stayed quiet; he ran a finger over the underside of your breast. His movements were slow, cautiously exploring your flesh. He finally reached up to cup your breast, his big hand igniting your nerves where he touched. For a moment he just held you like that, as if he was committing the feel to memory. His first squeeze was more for him than for you, but it felt damn good nonetheless. You let out a soft sigh, relishing in the feeling. He squeezed again, spurred on by your encouragement.

“What do you like?” He asked. You whispered back how you liked to be touched and he complied, rubbing and pinching at your nipples while you sighed again. You could feel him fully hard in his sweatpants behind you, the heat of his length and the teasing of your chest making you grow wet in his shorts.

“Kai,” you whined, growing impatient with his touches, wanting more. You ground your hips back against him. You could feel his cock through your shorts and it was making you desperate.

Kai stifled a groan from behind you at your neediness. His hand cautiously moved down from your breasts, pausing to squeeze the plush of your tummy as it ventured down. His fingers paused, dipping just under your waistband to gently stroke your skin there.

----

Kai gasped when he realized you weren't wearing any panties. Of course, he thought. You must've left them to dry with the rest of your clothes. He was hard before, but discovering that you were whiny and needy in his shorts without panties on made him grow impossibly harder.

He reached down, through the soft tuft of hair to find your pussy. You moaned when his fingers finally found your clit. He liked that sound, wanted to hear it again. You spread your legs a little, granting him better access to your body. He dipped his fingers through your soft folds, finding you wet for him. He couldn't help but moan as he explored your heat, coating his fingers in your wetness.

You let out a series of quiet gasps and whines as he teased you, rubbing small circles on your clit and through your folds. He found your entrance after a moment but was nervous to slip his fingers inside. Your impatient hips bucked at his hand and broke his questioning thoughts. He slowly sunk one of his slender fingers into your wet heat. You buried your face in his pillow to stifle your cry when he did. Your noises were like music to his ears and he slowly pumped the finger in and out, relishing the feeling of your walls sucking him in.

“More,” you gasped quietly, “please.”

He obliged, adding a second finger. You were keening now, rocking your hips to meet his hand as it pumped into you. The cheap bedframe squeaked softly with your movements but Kai didn't think it was anything loud enough for his roommates to hear.

You whined when he curled his fingers, throwing your head back onto his shoulder. “Kai, Kai,” you babbled, desperation dripping from your voice. You were so wet beneath his hand. “Wanna kiss you. Need to kiss you before you make me cum.”

He laughed at that. “What do you mean?” He slowed his movements when you gripped his forearm, but kept his fingers buried in your pussy.

“You're gonna make me cum, but,” your voice was shy as you continued, “I really wanna kiss you. I haven't even kissed you yet.”

Kai felt himself blush at your words. Gosh you were sweet. He smiled and kissed your cheek where he could reach from this position before removing his hand from your shorts.

You were quick to shuffle so you straddled his lap. Your clothed heat rested on his erection, which was almost painfully hard. He could just make out your features in the low light. You were so pretty, smiling down at him. He wanted to kiss you so bad. So when you leaned forward he sat up to meet you.

Your lips were soft against his, the first kiss relatively chaste as you pulled away to admire him. He basked in your gaze, loving the way you looked at him with such affection. When you kissed him again it was deeper.

----

Kai had perfect lips for kissing. He opened up to you like a flower on the second kiss. You traced his bottom lip with your tongue before he parted his lips slightly, granting you access to taste him. He moaned quietly into the kiss, hands settling around you. He brought you closer with the hand on the back of your head and gripped tightly at your ass with the hand that had been playing with your pussy just moments ago.

You shifted in his lap as his tongue explored your mouth. The change in pressure caused him to groan loudly into the quiet of his room. He broke the kiss but stayed close, whispering your name against your lips. “Please, I'm so sensitive right now.” His voice was deep and rough, held back from a full plead.

You smiled and kissed him again. “I've been teasing you for a long time haven't I?” You said, half pouting. You placed your lips right against the shell of his ear as you whispered- “you can fuck me if you want.”

His whine was stifled in his throat but you still caught it. You could feel his cock twitch beneath you at your words. Gosh, he was big. You could properly feel him now that you were straddling him. You didn't want to cum without having kissed him, but his teasing had left you needy and aching for him to fill you up again.

“Please,” was all he said before you nodded, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

“Wanna see you. Can I take this off?” He was happy to oblige, nodding before lifting his arms to let you undress him. You pulled his sweatshirt off you, letting him take in the sight of you in the dim light. The two of you sat like that for a moment, admiring each other. His hand reached out to trace over your skin once again, taking in your form in the low light. You did the same, running your fingers over his broad chest and wide shoulders. His hands continued to love on your tummy, more than anyone had done in the past. You found it cute, like most things about him, and appreciated that he seemed to enjoy a part of you you'd often been told to conceal.

Soon enough his hands found the hem of your- his- shorts again. You had to get off his lap to slide them off of you, your wetness clinging to the material as you did. Kai shucked off his bottoms as you did yours and you settled onto his lap again, the both of you fully naked in one another's embrace.

You could feel Kai's heartbeat racing under the hand you held to his chest. “Are you excited?” You teased.

“Y/n,” he started, “I really like you. I've liked you for a long time now. Since I first met you, I've liked you.”

You squeezed his hand, wanting to reassure him that you felt the same. “I really like you too, Kai. For a while now too.” He kissed you again. The kiss was charged with emotion, he poured his feelings into it and you reciprocated.

When the kiss broke you were both breathing hard. “You have a condom, right?” He nodded quickly, reaching to throw open the top drawer of his bedside table. Inside was a full box of unopened foils.

Sliding the condom onto Kai's length made your pussy clench around nothing. He was so big and heavy in your hand. He gasped like it hurt when you first held his cock, his angry tip a leaking mess of precum. He watched you with huge eyes as you rolled it on.

You spit onto your hand, slicking him up through the thin barrier. He couldn't stop the whine that he emitted as you stroked him.

When you finally hovered over his lap again you felt dizzy with anticipation. Kai's fingers had been long and stuffed you full, but his cock was surely going to fill you to the brim. You lined him up at your entrance and began to sink down.

His mouth fell slack when his fat tip pushed past your tight entrance. You took him inch by inch, fighting the urge to just sit on it, forcing yourself to take it slow and adjust. It felt like he was splitting you open. He was bigger than anyone you'd had before. Long and thick, he hit every spot inside of you as you finally rested on his hips, taking him to the hilt. You had to catch your breath.

----

Kai’s eyes were squeezed tight, his breaths heavy. The feeling of being inside of you better than he had imagined. You were so warm, your wet walls holding him so tight even through the latex barrier.

“Kai,” you whispered, rubbing his arm to bring him back to you. “Is this still okay?”

He opened his eyes and nodded. “Yes, yes. Just need a sec.” He was trying his hardest not to cum right there. But you were so beautiful in the shifting hues coming from his pc, the dim light illuminating your features. The moonlight from the crack in the blinds shone on your lashes as you watched him carefully.

“Okay,” he finally said, feeling like he wasn’t about to immediately cum at the slightest sensation. “I’m ready.”

You hummed and kissed him again before leaning back and slowly rolling your hips. His hands flew to your thighs, gripping them tightly as he tried to keep from moaning loudly and alerting his roommates to what was happening. You smiled down at him, speeding up a bit.

He was mesmerized by the way you looked as you rode him. He must’ve looked like a dumbstruck fool the way you giggled at his expression. “You like what you see?”

“Very much. You’re so beautiful.” Your face split into a huge smile and you kissed him again.

“I think you’re pretty beautiful too.” Kai felt himself blush at your words, not used to praise like this.

He wasn’t going to last very long, not with your sweet words and the slow drag of your walls around his cock. He moved his hands from where they rested, exploring the curves of your body, committing them to memory. He’d always had a thing for soft tummies, but your thick thighs, full breasts and even the soft creases of your back all delighted him. His touches spurred you on, your increased enthusiasm pushing him closer to the edge.

“Gonna cum.” He whined.

“Touch me here,” you guided his hand to your clit. “We’ll cum together.”

He fought through the building pressure, gathering your wetness to coat his thumb. A sigh escaped your lips when he rubbed your clit. He easily matched the pace you set with your hip, musician’s muscle memory kicking in.

“I’m so close,” his voice was strained, “gonna-”

His orgasm hit him hard. His hands squeezed hard at your hips as you rode him through his high, chasing after yours. The sounds you made when you came were music, a falling set of whimpers and stutters that washed over Kai like a wave. You slumped into Kai’s chest, aftershocks still causing your pussy to flutter and clench around him. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you in a sweet embrace as you both came down from your highs.

----

You hummed contentedly into the space between Kai’s shoulder and throat. He was warm and strong and all around you. You felt safe and cozy in his arms and completely blissed out from his cock. You knew you needed to clean up but you wanted to savor this moment for as long as you could.

“Hey, y/n,” Kai’s voice was a soft whisper above you. You hummed again in acknowledgement. “Do you think maybe we could go on a date sometime?”

You laughed, burying your face into his chest. Gosh, this boy. You propped yourself up onto your elbow, taking in the beauty of Kai’s features as he looked at you expectantly. “I would love that.” His smile was immediate. “And by the way, you could have asked me at any point in the year and I would’ve said yes.”

You couldn’t quite make out the blush that spread across his cheeks in the low light, but you kissed him again to let him know you meant it. You settled back onto his chest and he placed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I’m kind of glad I left my bag in that office now.”

You could feel Kai’s laugh through his chest. “I am too.”

author’s note: this is a work of fiction not meant to accurately represent the idol. please do not repost.

taglist: @theresawtf

#txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #hueningkai hard hours #hueningkai smut #hueningkai hard thoughts #hyuka smut #hyuka hard hours #hyuka hard thoughts #ari's mailbox 📬#ari writes #txt: kai

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morewittepain · 3 months

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some thoughts i had while thinking about college and inevitably connecting it back to my fixations as i always do:

random tbosas college au hcs!!

lucy gray would beg whichever poor soul got forced to be her roommate to push their mattresses together to make a mega bed, but she gets so cozy the first night that she sleeps through all seven of her alarms and misses like three classes.

livia, arachne, and clemensia are all insufferable sorority girls. except arachne and clemensia are super serious about it and livia is only in it for the booze and the lols. she made one joke day 1 of freshman year about being a sorority girl and ended up committing to the bit a little too hard, and now she's too far in to back out.

there's one bar off campus that all the daddy's money students (the academy mentors) started going to to escape from the weird liberal arts kids (the tributes) until one day lucy gray ends up scoring a job playing at said bar and now everyone is significantly bummed out when anyone mentions the place.

riding off of that, we all know that lucy gray is a theatre kid, but she's the most insufferable brand. she runs through the halls singing show tunes, she tries to start flash mobs in the dining hall, and if you mention it once she will not shut up about the theatre club's latest improv show. they did wicked once and she showed up to classes in full green makeup every day throughout the entirety of tech week.

not only is she the theatre kid, she's just the weird kid in general. she shows up to every 8 am class in the most insanely tacky diy outfits. more often than not, she repurposes whatever costume pieces the theatre department was throwing out. it's all craft store gemstones, hot glue, and a metric ton of puffy paint. she's also constantly conjuring flowers out of thin air it seems and passing them out as flower crowns to whoever is within a ten mile radius. mid final she just slowly passes you a whole heap of daisies weaved together and you're left like "??????"

she sets her eyes on someone and either becomes their best friend or worst nightmare.

coryo walking through the front door covered in glitter with a **very** homemade rainbow scarf forcefully tied around his neck and a flower behind his ear: TIGRIS THE WEIRD KID GOT ME ON THE WALK HOME AGAIN AND I COULDN'T OUTRUN HER

sejanus and coryo would dorm together for a total of two months before coryo decides that if he doesn't move off campus he will literally kill himself so he ends up back with tigris and commutes. he's a coward (sejanus snores).

oh god wait no is he a frat boy? i hate that image in my head. GET IT OUT!!

mizzen is significantly younger than everyone else, like 14 or something, and hangs out on campus with coral (bc in my head they're cousins or smthn) and it is quite literally the "uhhhh want a beer?" "HE'S FOUR!!" meme. nobody knows what to do with him. he's just sitting there with an ipad and a yoohoo living his best life until coral makes him do his homework.

coryo fails a situationship twice a week and everyone clowns on him constantly for never being able to get out of the talking stage. one day he's showing up to lucy gray's shows and the next he's ducking behind cars in the parking lot so she doesn't see him. one day he's making out with livia at a party and the next he's crying on the floor while clemensia pats him on the back because nobody loves him. one day he's genuinely hooking up with sejanus and the next he's pretending he was drunk so he can act like he doesn't remember. boo you whore!!! men will do anything BUT therapy.

sejanus is that one kid whose mom is always on campus for some reason and just chilling in their dorm. they're knitting sweaters and watching friends, leave them alone!!

clemensia would be the ra that everyone hates because she would absolutely snitch on your ass to look good, meanwhile lamina is the ra that everyone loves because she's just in it for the free room and is too tired to hunt anyone down for breaking the rules. work smarter, not harder.

reaper is also a weird kid, but in the mysterious artist who just glares at people from across the dining hall and sketches angrily kinda way. he and lucy gray are besties because i said so. he's teaching her how to paint in exchange for guitar lessons, except she can only finger paint and he's left handed and can hardly play her guitar comfortably.

treech and lamina were that one couple that picked the same college during their honeymoon phase in high school and travelled together except it absolutely ruined their relationship and now they hate each other. if you're a girl's girl, though, you take lamina's side because she does no wrong (totally not because she lets you sneak pot into the dorm as long as she "can't see it" so she doesn't have to do a whole night's worth of paperwork).

coral and lucy gray have been dating for half of a semester but pretend to hate each other when they're in public simply for the bit. they're faking petty cat fights, they're glaring at each other in the hallways, but really they're smoochin behind the scenes. they just think they're funny.

it's 5 am and i need to SLEEP but please drop any other headcanons you have about this batshit au because I would love to see them. i'm sure this will make no sense when i reread it in the morning, but trust that i will revisit this subject because them just being normal teenagers is always so funny to me.

#the hunger games #thg #tbosas #tbosas headcanon #thg headcanons #coriolanus snow #lucy gray baird #sejanus plinth #arachne crane #clemensia dovecote #livia cardew #reaper ash #coral tbosas #mizzen tbosas #lamina tbosas #treech tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

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whitehotharlots · 1 year

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Actually, most stuff *isn’t* political; you are just insane

Over the last several years, what was once a niche academic observation has become something of a mantra in left-liberal spaces: everything is political. (Everything is ideological doesn’t quite mean the same thing, but in effect the two assertions are interchangable).

There’s a grain of truth here, as anyone who smoked pot in high school and just, like, had some really deep thoughts will confirm. In order to understand any statement or work of art--in order to communicate--there must exist some shared understandings and beliefs between senders and receivers. Okay, great. Whoopdee doo. That’s some real philosophy major-level shit. You should write a fucking book about.

In spite of being unbearably tedious, this observation has become an all-consuming basal assumption underlying every left-liberal analysis of social issues and criticism of cultural artifacts. No longer are artists and commentators allowed to insist that some things simply fall outside the lens of our manichean partisan binary. No sir. Anyone whose work isn’t explicitly progressive is actually a secret reactionary, and so every work--from sitcoms to video games to journalistic descriptions of city hall meetings--must soak itself in the treacle of cultural liberalism.

If you’re writing a scene in which a black guy and a white guy are friends, you better fucking include a soliloquy in which privilege is reflected upon. If you’re making a breakfast cereal commercial that doesn’t feature at least one person of every conceivable racial marking, you might as well sign up for a job with the Daily Caller. Anyone who tries suggesting that, hey, I’m sorry I didn’t think it was a big deal that we didn’t make the Honey Nut Cheerio’s Bee gender non-conforming, I swear to god I didn’t think this was political is an idiot liar who deserves something far worse than prison. Why? Because everything is political, politics can only be understood within the contemporary Democrat-Republican split, and fascism happens the second our vigilance falters in the slightest.

You all see how retarded this is, right? How much it’s ruining people’s brains? At the very least, you can grasp how this hampers one’s ability to just enjoy stuff, let alone be able to understand its artistic and cultural importance outside the very narrow and stupid and 99% inapplicable lens of contemporary American politics?

I’m sorry, but I’m tried of lying about this shit. There’s nothing political about Kramer storming into Jerry’s apartment. There’s nothing political about Charlie Kelly blowing cigarette smoke into a hornet’s nest. There’s nothing political about the Pink Panther’s appearance in Owens Corning Insulation commercials.

Yes, you can get a byline or a humanities degree suggesting otherwise, so long as you’re craven enough to ignore context and authorial intent and also you think comprehensibility is bad. Again, good for you. But the rest of us, we are not professional lying shitheads, we have lost patience with the bullshit and are begging you to please shut the fuck up.

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guspartenza · 6 months

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THE SUPERWOMAN FROM KRYPTON, FANART+FANFIC INTRODUCTION

art by https://www.deviantart.com/gabrielrb91

What would you think about an alternate universe with a female-Clark as Superwoman in the golden age?

Is the only main change in the classic canon together with her love interest, is not Earth-11, let's say is Eart-19...meet Clara Kent/Superwoman!

It's 1948, in Metropolis!

Up in the sky! Look! It's a bird? It's a plane? No! It's Superwoman!

Faster than a speeding bullet! More powerful than a locomotive! Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound, this amazing stranger from the planet Krypton, The Woman of Steel: Superwoman!

Empowered with X-ray vision, possessing remarkable physical strength, Superwoman fights a never-ending battle for love, truth, and justice, disguised as a mild-mannered newspaper reporter, Clara Kent!

In a world plagued by the Cold War and mistrust, can Superwoman bring peace to the world while fighting for love, truth, justice, and the American way? Can she finally find a happy life with Louis Lane, the love of her life? Can she defeat Lex Luthor and the terrible ancient evil he is about to awaken?

You can download full free illustrated fanfic in pdf here! SUPERWOMAN FROM KRYPTON-FREE ILLUSTRATED FANFIC by lordmallory on DeviantArt or here https://drive.google.com/file/d/1XPh48B9_giTgDpnBXjRP-4Z4ksUU-WzR/view?usp=drive_link

Art by https://www.deviantart.com/letoart

KALA-EL/CLARA JOSEPHINE KENT/SUPERWOMAN

BORN: Krypton, a moon in a distant galaxy. Formally 28/02/1918, SMALLVILLE, KANSAS

PROFESSION: ASSISTANT REPORTER

YEAR: 1948

PLACE: METROPOLIS (METROPOLIS COUNTY, NEW YORK)

art by https://www.deviantart.com/wagemagegames

-Farmgirl, born Kansas 1918. No sisters nor brothers.

-Nicest girl in the office but very unfunny.

-Disappears without reason very often.

-Lives alone in a little flat and has a golden retriever dog called Krypto.

-Daddy issues. Her father didn't let her pursue a career as ballet dancer or swimmer (he didn't want her to take advantage of her powers) and died when she was 18.

-Former nurse during the war in the Pacific Ocean and in the Philippines.

-Loves children and dogs

-Tomboyish trails. Not quite elegant.

-Music-Hall fan, Katherine Hepburn and James Stewart fan

-Favorite books: Scarlet Pimpernel adventures, Jane Austen, Upton Sinclair and Virginia Wolf, somewhat eclectic.

-Amateur writer of children's stories, with characters such as DeeDog and the Komfy Dragon.

-She greatly admires her boss, Perry Weiss. A 1940s very liberal Republican style journalist, chief editor of the Daily Planet. She despises her deputy boss Cat Grant.

-Ambiguous relationship with her other boss Louis Lane. Clara has a good friendship with Louis and hides that she is very much in love with him. At the same time, she competes a lot with Mr. Lane and is annoyed by his political ideas and his paternalism.

-Strange friendship with young millionaire Bruce Wayne, something that is very surprising for the people in the Daily Planet newsroom.

-Always good scoops but never appears in the front line and too stubborn and independent to grow fast in the newspaper.

-Progressive quaker like her fathers.

-Civil rights supporter.

-Dislikes General McArthur, dislikes even more Lex Luthor

-Loves Eleanor Roosevelt but also Governor Dewey.

-Hates guns

-Supports unions, splits ticket between Metropolis Liberal Party and the two main parties. Politicians must be kind.

art by https://www.tumblr.com/bobbinalong

SUPERHEROINE LIFE

-Superpowers: Flight, Super-Strength, Super-Speed, X-Ray Vision, Heat Vision, Enhanced Vision, Super-Hearing, Super-Breath, Freeze-Breath, High Invulnerability, Super-Stamina

-Can fly to a Mach 100 speed.

-Acts as Superwoman since October 1945.

-Defeated Zod invasion in July1946.

-Initial bad relationship with Batman but now close friends and allies. Together with Flash they conform the Justice League.

-Didn't act as Superwoman during the World War II because she was afraid of her powers. After the discovery of the Holocaust and the atomic bombs she decided to step in and showed herself to the world on autumn 1945.

-Worst enemy: Lex Luthor, heir of Nikola Tesla, rocket engineer & CEO of TELCORP (Tesla-Luthor Co.)

-Deeply in love with Louis Lane, who strongly rejects the superheroine.

-She hides her supersuit and cape under her normal clothes. The material is extraordinarily thin, flexible and resistant, and very easy to wear under normal clothing. Whenever someone needs Superwoman, she just needs to find an inconspicuous place, rip her shirt, unfold her cape and fly away at full speed.

-Widely admired.

art by https://www.deviantart.com/bluerollerball

art by Gabriel Larragan (Ko-Fi)

FAMILY & ORIGINS

The El family & Krypton

Krypton was a decadent civilization located on a moon near a large gaseous planet in the Orion belt, next to a green sun. In the past they had visited Earth and other planets expanding civilization, but their penchant for slavery, war, resource extraction and violence caused many of these projects to fail. Even in 10,500 BC the Kryptonians almost caused the terraforming of the Earth, melting the poles and destroying Atlantis and other civilizations, causing among other things the end of the Ice Age. Nearly 99% of humanity perished during that Kryptonian attack.

Over the centuries the Kryptonians lost the fuel necessary to travel across space and ended up confined to their planet, dedicated to warfare, genetic engineering-creating clones whose organs they needed to extend their lives-to pleasure and to exploiting the subsoil of their planet. The Kryptonians also established a dictatorship with a caste system based on genetic engineering and prohibited natural reproduction.

Jor-El and Lara were a couple of scientists critical of the system and supporters of the abolition of the caste system. They also fought against genetic engineering, violent repression, and the permanent destruction of the ecosystem. After a series of terrible earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, and gas outbursts, it became clear that Krypton's core was collapsing, due to the energetic drilling and magnetic energy used in Krypton's industry. The Planet was doomed but the ruling caste ignored it. Jor-El and Lara had a daughter, Kala-El in a natural way against all the rules of Krypton. Lara managed to manufacture a small ship capable of making a space jump to save her daughter from the end of Krypton. General Zod stole her design and managed to build a larger fleet of ships but Jor-El managed to sabotage them and send the fleet to the Phantom Zone, a black hole near Krypton.

Lara decided to send Kala to Earth, confident that the culture of this planet was much more hopeful and kinder, and less prone to the mistakes of Krypton than other distant inhabited planets closer to them. Jor-El preferred to send her to New Genesis, another distant inhabited planet, because there Kala would receive less radiation and develop less extraordinary abilities that would allow her to live a normal life, but eventually Lara convinced him. During her journey to Earth and her growing period under a yellow sun, Kala would develop wonderful powers and could live a long life in the service of mankind, rehabilitating Krypton's legacy.

Within hours of Kala's birth, she was placed in the small ship, accompanied by the robot guide Kelex, whose memory was imprinted with the consciousness of Jor-El and Lara, as well as nearly all of Krypton's cultural heritage. They included several Kryptonian artifacts inside, such as a nearly indestructible ceremonial female ancestral caped suit with the crest of the House of El on its chest.

The ship was launched just hours before Krypton's demise and travelled through space for thirty years...

art by https://www.tumblr.com/bobbinalong

Joe&Martha Kent, Kansas life

Joe and Martha Kent were a Quaker farming couple whose farm was struck by the pod carrying Kala-El the 28th of February of 1918. Although owners of substantial property they were a very humble, cooperative, austere, devout, and civil rights-minded people. Martha Kent was a descendant of Kansas abolitionist guerrilla fighter John Brown. They both raised Clara very lovingly and unwilling to ask too many questions about the baby's origin. Clara was a very sickly child as her body did not adapt to the Earth. She was an affectionate and obedient girl and devoured books. The Kent family were avowed supporters of the New Deal and Joe Kent was a member of the local farmers union.

With puberty Clara developed very fast, and her superpowers began to appear. She soon began to excel in swimming and ballet, while still questioning her origins, but Joe forbade her to pursue a professional career to prevent her from taking advantage of her powers, and moreover he forbade her to use her superpowers to help others, fearful of humanity's reaction and wary of savior messiahs in the era of interwar dictators.

Clara rebelled against her father but eventually gave in, fearful of her own abilities and understanding her parents' position. During these years, Clara didn't fit in very well, but she had two best friends, Pete Ross, with whom she was secretly in love, and Lana Lang. Pete didn't know about her superpowers, but Lana did. In 1936 Joe Kent died of a heart attack, devastating her daughter. Clara was unable to go to college after her father's death and worked as a teacher and nurse's aide in Smallville. Her engagement to Pete Ross, her teenage sweetheart failed in 1939 when she revealed her powers to Pete and he panicked, although he later promised to keep the secret. In those times of sadness, Kelex, the Kryptonian robot, was activated, explaining to Clara her true origins, which filled her with confusion.

Between 1939 and 1941 Clara lived in Canada and Alaska searching for the Fortress of Solitude, a strange place Kelex was pointing, but with the outbreak of World War II she decided to enlist as a nurse in the Pacific, refusing to use her powers except to help the wounded, fearing to cause more harm than good. In late 1944, the hospital ship on which he was traveling, the USS Shuster, was torpedoed by the Japanese. Clara jumped into the water and managed to keep the ship afloat with her super strength until she managed to beach it. No one understood how miraculously the ship had stayed afloat and even levitated. The incident was kept secret. Clara got a permit to return home and she revisited Alaska where she found the Fortress of Solitude with the help of Kelex. There she was able to better understand her origins and began to train her superpowers.

After learning about the Holocaust first and the atomic bombs later, Clara decided to become Superwoman and help others with her superpowers dressed in the ceremonial Kryptonian costume of her ancestors. Her mother Martha supported her decision. She relocated to Metropolis, where in September 1945 she was hired as an assistant reporter by Major Louis Lane, who had just returned from Europe.

art by LuisF47 - Hobbyist, Digital Artist | DeviantArt

On October 1, 1945, Superwoman unveiled herself to the world and caused a huge sensation. The world was changed forever. Superwoman introduced herself to the newly formed United Nations, explaining her origins and her desire to help others and to stay out of political conflicts except to protect civilians.

Clara Kent began her double life as a journalist and as Superwoman. In July 1946, she defeated the invasion of General Zod and the survivors of Krypton. She also had to face other enemies such as the Intergang - an alliance of all organized crime in Metropolis and Gotham, Atomic Skull - an ex-Nazi agent with terrifying technology, Lex Luthor who began to develop his hatred and paranoia towards the superheroine, and his creations such as Metallo.

art by https://www.deviantart.com/xtophe

DAILY PLANET CHARACTERS

Perry Weiss, a major shareholder and editor in chief of the Daily Planet. Born in Odessa in 1886. Jewish immigrant from humble origins who became a skilled journalist and founded the Daily Planet as a tool of the liberal wing of the Metropolis Republican Party to unseat the city bosses of the time. Still a staunch liberal, he supported Roosevelt in 1932 and 1936, is an ally of Mayor LaGuardia. He won the Pulitzer Prize in the 1920s for defending the innocence of Sacco and Vanzetti. Friend and ally of Louis Lane's father. He is very demanding with his employees but is very fond of Clara. He admires and defends Superwoman despite Louis Lane's distrust. Best friend of Cat Grant.

Cat Grant, Co-chair of Perry Weiss, Pulitzer winner, closeted lesbian, and Ayn Rand Fan. Born 1901, she comes from a fine family of Metropolis Knickerbockers. She is like Louis the least liberal element of the newspaper. To protect herself she married a very old friend of her father who helped her lead a double life. For twenty years she lived with a painter named Margaret Ivy. Considered the best writer of the Daily Planet, in addition to being a journalist she has published two novels. Very elegant and popular in intellectual circles. She is tremendously authoritarian. She mistreats Clara a lot because she does not respect her authority and because of her different political ideas, but as Clara grows as a journalist and Cat Grant suspects that she is Superwoman, she will protect her and push her forward without Clara knowing it. Best friend of Perry Weiss

Jimmy Olsen and Lucy Weiss, best friends of Clara.

Jimmy is a junior urban photographer. He comes from a town in Massachusetts. He is 7 years younger than Clara. He is a party animal, friendly, generous, and somewhat naive. Yet he is a skilled photographer who has been able to capture the worst of the night and day of Metropolis. Miraculously he always gets the best pictures of Superwoman (Clara helps him a little). Very democratic and complains about working for a newspaper that is too conservative for his taste. Adores Clara whom he treats as his big sister. It doesn't even cross his mind that she is Superwoman. Jimmy thinks that Louis is a snob and a bigot.

Lucy is a senior political photographer and the only woman on photo reporting on the Daily Planet who works outside the fashion department. She is the eldest daughter of Perry Weiss. She is an intrepid photojournalist who gets overseas passes and has been to several military conflicts. A loyal friend of Clara, and a very serious and professional woman. She is suspicious of Clara's double identity but would never say anything. She is the same age as Clara and a lover of jazz and the more alternative circuits of Metropolis.

art by https://www.deviantart.com/milkydraws8/gallery

art by https://www.artstation.com/pabloalcalde

LOUIS LANE, SUPERWOMAN'S WEAKNESS?

NAME: LOUIS LANE

BORN: 08/02/1912, METROPOLIS (NEW YORK)

PROFESSION: SENIOR REPORTER

YEAR: 1948

PLACE: METROPOLIS (NYC)

art by https://www.deviantart.com/rickcelis/gallery

-Rich family, born in 1912, first of 6 brothers.

-Caustic, cynical, ironic but somewhat kind.

-Commanding.

-Lives in Park Avenue with his 6-year-old daughter and his rich unfaithful wife, fashion reporter Pat Lane (neé Kelly). Very unhappy marriage.

-Major rank during the war in the US army. He also worked with the OSS.

-Elegant, sportsman, plays violin.

-Teaches music lessons in an orphan house in secret.

-Not that snobbish nor Wasp, new rich family traits.

-Arkham University alumni.

-Classic music and literature lover.

-Heavy drinker.

-Does not enjoy journalism, thinking of quitting to politics or teaching literature.

-Jewish father (Lane surname is a change from Lantzman), Irish catholic mother, raised catholic and religious, but not extremely orthodox.

-His father is a self-made tycoon who started as democrat in the Tammany Hall and then switched to republican. Close ally of Mayor LaGuardia.

-Fought in the European theater during World War II.

-Conservative republican opposed to his father liberal republican views, loves McArthur, who he thinks should be the next President.

-In the past he had a good opinion of Lex Luthor. He saw him as an innovator and freedom fighter, but his opinion changed when Luthor kidnapped him to set a trap for Superwoman.

-Perry Weiss favorite reporter.

-Won the Pulitzer Prize in 1941, for his articles about the first defeat of the Intergang.

-First person to interview Superwoman.

-Very nice and paternalistic to Clara. Louis pushes Clara's career forward despite Cat Grant's opposition. He is also secretly in love with Clara. Although he rejects Superwoman and suspects she is the same person as Clara, he deludes himself and rejects these suspicions.

-Tired of New Deal Politics, anticommunist.

-"a brilliant and kind man" for most of the Daily Planet staff, a "terrible asshole" for many others like Jimmy Olsen.

-Strongly rejects Superwoman and other heroes.

-Sometimes Clara really hates him.

-Famous line "Neither reds nor capes".

-He lives a bizarre love triangle with Clara Kent and Superwoman. Although he publicly rejects the superheroine, he also desires her and he and Superwoman have had moments of passion, which Louis feels guilty about because he is married and because of his religion. On the other hand, he is in love with Clara Kent as much as he rejects the figure of Superwoman. He deludes himself about the identity of both. A bit James Stewart in Vertigo, which destabilizes and infuriates Clara.

art by https://www.deviantart.com/guinnessyde

art by https://akiko02.carrd.co/

CURRENT AND PAST ENEMIES

Lex Luthor

Rocket engineer, CEO of TELCORP and Heir of Nikola Tesla. A Brilliant scientist who defines himself as a "radical humanist"...but in the early 30s supported closely fascism to stop "imperialism" and "usury" but later changed his mind and move closer to the USSR to fight "predatory western capitalism". Publicly, he is a tycoon and scientist loyal to the United States and works closely with the government. The world's greatest philanthropist. Loving father and husband. Hates Superwoman to death and believes she spells the end of humanity. Paranoid and ruthless but convinced that he does everything for the greater good.

art by https://www.deviantart.com/gus-art

General Zod & Faora

Political dissidents like the El on Krypton on the other hand believed that Krypton's only salvation lay in emigrating and invading, terraforming, and exterminating other planets. They almost succeeded in a coup d'état but after their failure they and their henchmen tried to flee by space jumping their ships, Jor-El managed to sabotage the launch and send them to the Phantom Zone. Over the years they managed to escape and arrived on Earth in 1946, shortly after Clara showed herself to the world as Superwoman. They tried to exterminate all humanity, but Superwoman and the armies of Earth managed to defeat them. Their invasion caused 5,000 human casualties but could have caused complete extermination. The experience was traumatic for Clara because she had to send Zod and Faora back to the Phantom Zone where they would surely die. Zod, Faora and their henchmen had not yet developed the full powers of a yellow sun like Earth's and so several of them were killed by human bombs and missiles. Their remains were stored by Russians and Americans. Superwoman managed to expel all Kryptonian technology and weaponry into space so that humans would not use it for warfare.

Doomsday

A truly near-indestructible abomination.

Perhaps from Krypton's past? Perhaps created by mistake by human scientists?

art by https://www.deviantart.com/fernando-damasio & https://www.deviantart.com/kristherion

The Toyman

Winslow Schott, former entrepreneur, and inventor of the 1920s toy business who was ruined in the Great Depression by banks and various betrayals. After a crime spree he was imprisoned in 1933 but escaped from prison recently completely crazed and ready to take revenge on the whole city using his inventions.

Brainiac "The Eternal Traveller"

An android resulting from the abhorrent merger of a famous astronaut and artificial intelligence, which was used by the first civilization of Krypton to collect information from other worlds. It is more than 100,000 years old. With the passage of time, he revealed against the Kryptonians, became evil and phobic to any form of life that he considered imperfect or inferior. It caused the destruction of many cultures. He wanders through space visiting planets and analyzing life forms. He probably has no enthusiasm for humans, much less for a descendant of the House of El.

art by https://www.instagram.com/estefaniaart_/

art by https://www.deviantart.com/midnightowl07

art by https://www.deviantart.com/artsandar

art by https://akiko02.carrd.co/

art by https://www.deviantart.com/son-neko

art by https://www.deviantart.com/dommnics

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thisbelongsto-nohbodys · 4 months

Note

I'm salty about The Ghost and Molly McGee's cancellation and how it's another example of networks and studios screwing over a show that didn't earn a profit despite doing next to nothing to help it earn a profit.

You got some fluffy headcanons about the show to help this poor salty soul.

Still mulling things over for post-series headcanons. I do have a few but I wanna wait till I have a good list and some designs before posting. I can give a few tho', 1 per major character.

Sharon worked through her grief of losing Scratch and created a series of wonderful art pieces which both hang in the Town Hall and in a museum in the capital.

Pete eventually manages to get a victory for Brighton over Perfektborg with an excellent redesign of the market district. While Perfektborg would win the next year, Pete was still hailed as a hero by the Brightonians.

Molly became Mayor of Brighton when she got old enough and felt she was ready to run, the previous Mayor Brunson even endorsed her run and she won easily. She has been enhappifying the town even more since for both the living and ghost citizens of Brighton

Daryl went legit...kinda. He still has some shady dealings but the other businesses he has are 100% legit (mostly thanks to Andrea's help and business know-how).

Libby became a popular author after with the encouragement of Molly, she sent in a manuscript and was published at 16. Since then she's been writing a bunch of stories of various genres (even outselling her father which brought her a bit of joy)

Andrea worked with Molly to rework her (Andrea's) life plan and it's been working great for her. The new "honest Andrea" image has been working well for her and has found it liberating not just for herself but against her family who has been trying anything to regain their empire, meanwhile Andrea has been happy separate from them

Ollie is a living therapist to the dead and has been helping ghosts with their unfinished business. While not his main job, it is the one he finds the most satisfying.

June continued her research on ghosts and now that actual ghosts are friends of her and family, she has direct test subjects. Her research was at first laughed at by "ghost experts" but after a few years of her advice was proven to work she got the respect that her parents never got.

Geoff & Jeff visited the McGees more often after Scratch left. While not the best at giving life advice, Geoff still tried to help Molly and co while growing up (Jeff, while supportive of his husband knows that he isn't the best with that stuff and would correct things)

#ask #the ghost and molly mcgee

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iowacitypast · 10 months

Text

Hall of Liberal Arts (now Schaeffer Hall) behind trees, The University of Iowa, 1920

Creator: Kent, Frederick Wallace

#Trees #Hall of Liberal Arts #Schaeffer Hall #1920 #The University of Iowa

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fanficapologist · 2 months

Text

Of Dragons and Maelstroms: Aemond POV

Themes and Warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, blood, violence, explicit language, sexual violence, period-typical misogyny, sexual themes, smut, tension, marriage, jealousy, pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, attempted sexual assault, breastfeeding, major character death, divergent timelines

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood/Game of Thrones characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Chapter Two

The year Maera spent with the family in the Red Keep proved to be a glorious one, bringing a sense of rejuvenation to the once somber halls. Like a much-needed rainstorm on a dehydrated garden, Maera's presence breathed new life into the atmosphere, infusing it with vitality and joy. Helaena, typically withdrawn, blossomed in Maera's company. With the young Lady by her side, she seemed more engaged and spent less time in her trance-like states.

Aegon, recognizing that Maera was not to be trifled with, ceased his bothersome antics, realizing that it was futile to challenge someone who met his provocations with unwavering resolve. His newfound indifference allowed them to enjoy their time together without the constant threat of disruption.

Even Queen Alicent, usually composed and regal, seemed to radiate a newfound warmth in Maera's presence. She enjoyed spending with the little girls, guiding them to the Sept to pray and spending afternoons with them in the company of a tutor, teaching them the graceful art of dance. In Maera, the Queen found not only a companion for her daughter but also a source of light and vitality that rejuvenated her own spirit.

Aemond found himself unable to deny the profound effect Maera had on him. Their friendship was unlike any other he had experienced within the confines of the Red Keep. There were no forced interactions, no courtly manners, no pretenses—just genuine companionship. In Maera's presence, Aemond felt liberated to be himself, unencumbered by the expectations of his station.

Despite understanding Maera's foremost duty to Helaena, Aemond couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy at times when he had to share her attention. Yet, he cherished every moment they spent together, eagerly anticipating the rare occasions when Maera had free time away from her duties, knowing she would choose to spend it with him.

Their days were filled with adventure and laughter as they ran through the castle grounds, scaled its walls, engaged in spirited debates, and delved into the depths of ancient tomes, unraveling the mysteries of High Valyrian together. Eventually, their shared passion for sword training led them to convince Ser Criston Cole, the esteemed knight of the Kingsguard, to allow them to spar together. Knowing Alicent's children held a special place in his heart, Ser Criston relented, albeit in secret, allowing the pair to practice under his watchful eye.

Maera, borrowing a green tunic from Aemond's wardrobe, wore it with a casual grace that seemed to breathe new life into the garment. The verdant hue of the shirt perfectly complemented her striking green eyes, accentuating their brilliance with every glance. Paired with some weathered riding leathers procured from the stables, Maera appeared every bit as comfortable in her borrowed attire as she did in her delicate turquoise and gold dresses.

The atmosphere crackled with excitement as they exchanged playful banter and swift strikes from their wooden swords, each meeting the other's challenge with equal determination. Aemond and Maera challenged each other just the right amount, pushing themselves to improve while reveling in the joy of friendly competition.

“Should you even be down here?” A critical voice called out to the pair. Aemond and Maera looked up to see Aegon descending the steps, his presence casting a shadow over their moment of camaraderie. Aemond gritted his teeth, feeling a surge of frustration at his older brother’s unwelcome intrusion. Since Rhaenyra had taken her sons to Dragonstone, Aemond surmised that Aegon was lacking in playthings to torment and was seeking out a game.

Taking in the sight of Aegon, Aemond noticed the slight smudges of soot on his cheeks and the worn, dirty state of his clothes. A twinge of jealousy stirred in Aemond’s heart as he realized that Aegon had likely been to the dragonpit, the envy of his brother having access to a dragon gnawing at him.

“Should you?” Maera sneered, a frown on her face as the elder Prince approached them. Despite Maera having numerous elder brothers back at Rain House, she had confided in Aemond that she could only tolerate Aegon in small doses. Seeing him now, her irritation was palpable, a reflection of Aemond’s own feelings towards his brother’s presence.

Ser Criston greeted Prince Aegon with a nod, his dark brown hair ruffled by the breeze and his piercing dark eyes keen with watchfulness.“My Prince, have you come to train or merely spectate?”

Aegon grinned darkly at his brother and the young lady. “Give me a sword, Cole. Let me hone my skill using these two as practice.”

Aemond's nerves prickled as Aegon challenged him and Maera to a spar. Despite his years of training, Aemond couldn't shake the feeling of apprehension knowing that Aegon possessed a height and speed advantage, along with a slight edge in swordsmanship.

Glancing at Maera, however, Aemond found reassurance in her mischievous smirk. “We can take him, Aemond,” she whispered with a wink. Her confidence and readiness were palpable as she stood before him, her stance set and wooden sword raised in anticipation. Her unwavering courage bolstered his own resolve, and with a nod of determination, Aemond assumed his position, ready to face the challenge that lay ahead.

As Ser Criston's authoritative voice commanded the start of the spar, the tension in the training yard heightened palpably. Aegon wasted no time, launching his assault with a swift and aggressive strike aimed directly at Maera. However, with reflexes honed through countless hours of training, Maera deftly sidestepped the blow, her movements fluid and precise.

Meanwhile, Aemond and Maera coordinated their movements, strategically positioning themselves to cover each other's blind spots. Aegon, recognizing the threat posed by their combined defense, shifted his focus to Aemond, launching a relentless series of attacks with his wooden sword. Aemond, feeling the pressure mount with each strike, struggled to keep pace, his nerves fraying at the ferocity of Aegon's onslaught.

Seeing Aemond's struggle, Maera moved to intervene, her determination to protect her friend shining through. However, her noble intentions were met with unexpected aggression from Aegon. With a sudden and forceful elbow strike, Aegon caught Maera off guard, the impact landing squarely on her face with a resounding thud. The shock of the blow sent Maera reeling backward, her breath knocked from her lungs as pain radiated from the point of impact.

Prince Aegon refocused his attention on Aemond, he drove his younger brother backward with a relentless barrage of strikes from his wooden sword. Aemond, feeling the pressure mount, retreated step by step until he tripped over his own feet and fell to the ground. Despite Aemond's vulnerable position, Aegon showed no mercy, continuing to rain down blows upon the younger Prince.

Aemond's eyes widened in shock as he watched Aegon suddenly yanked back by his hair, his expression contorting from triumph to agony. Behind Aegon stood Maera, her fierce determination evident as she held onto Aegon's locks, pulling him to the ground with a forceful tug.

Before Aegon could retaliate, Maera acted swiftly, leaping onto his wrist, the older Prince yelling out in pain as Maera's weight and momentum caused him to drop his sword. With one foot planted firmly on his chest to keep him down, Maera pointed her wooden sword menacingly at his face, her green eyes flashing with intensity as she held him at bay. At Ser Criston’s order, the match concluded.

The younger Prince watched in awe as Maera stood victorious over Aegon, flushed with exertion and breathing heavily from the intensity of the match. Their eyes met, and despite the adrenaline still coursing through her veins, Maera turned to Aemond with a triumphant grin, her expression mirroring his own sense of awe and admiration. In that moment, Aemond couldn't help but feel a surge of pride for his friend, who had proven herself to be a formidable opponent and a loyal ally.

Emerging victorious over Aegon, Maera bounded over to Aemond with uncontainable excitement, engulfing him in a big bear hug. With a joyful bounce, she celebrated her triumph, her glee infectious as she shared in the exhilaration of her victory with Aemond. In the midst of the commotion, Maera planted a light kiss on Aemond's cheek, barely noticeable but enough to send a rush of warmth flooding through him, his face flushing bright red as a smile spread across his lips.

However, their jubilant moment was interrupted by the sound of a slow clap emanating from above them. Maera's excited squeals came to an abrupt halt as the group turned their attention upwards, greeted by the sight of King Viserys, the Protector of the Realm, now weakened and feeble.

The King's thinning white hair atop his head fluttered gently in the breeze, the discolouration in his face a stark reminder of his declining health. Despite the black cloak that seemed to swamp him, there was a faint smile on his lips as he applauded the match. It was unclear how long he had been standing there, silently observing the scene before him, but his presence commanded respect and reverence from all who beheld him.

Ser Criston was the first to bow to the King, a gesture of respect and deference that was swiftly followed by Aegon's bow and Maera's curtsy. Aemond, feeling a surge of annoyance and confusion at the King's unexpected presence, reluctantly bowed as well, though his frustration simmered beneath the surface. Why had he even been watching them? Ever since his half-sister had fled with her bastards to Dragonstone, Aemond’s father spent even less time with his family, if that were even possible.

As King Viserys ushered Maera forward with a beckoning finger, Aemond felt a protective instinct stir within him. Though the King was not cruel in the conventional sense, his frequent avoidance of the family had left Aemond doubting whether his father even knew who Maera was or why she was there.

“Beaten by a little girl, Aegon? Your swordsmanship could use some work,” the King chuckled weakly, his tone carrying a hint of amusement as he addressed his son. Aegon’s response was a mere scoff, his eyes averting from his father’s gaze, a silent testament to his weariness of the constant criticisms.

Turning his attention to the young girl who had stepped forward, King Viserys inquired, “What is your name, young Lady?” Aemond observed Maera fidgeting nervously with her sleeves, a slight tremor betraying her voice as she responded to the King’s query. “Maera, of House Wylde, your Grace,” she replied, her words laced with deference.

Empathy welled up within Aemond as he observed Maera's usual green-eyed gaze downcast and her cheeks flushed red with nervousness. It was a rare display of vulnerability from his usually confident friend, and the Prince longed to reassure her. Her discomfort was palpable, and Aemond couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt for dragging her into the midst of their family's complicated dynamics.

The King raised an eyebrow in recognition. “Daughter of my cousin Gael?” Maera nodded shyly in affirmation, prompting a warm smile to grace the King’s features. “Lady Gael corresponded often with my late wife, Queen Aemma. However, when she passed…” His voice trailed off, the mention of his deceased wife invoking a pang of discomfort in Aemond.

Suppressing a groan at the mention of his father’s old wife, Aemond shifted uncomfortably, his gaze flickering briefly to Maera, whose own discomfort mirrored his own. Despite the King’s attempt at cordiality, the specter of the past hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the otherwise jovial atmosphere of the training grounds.

Ser Criston's pointed clearing of his throat broke the momentary daze that had enveloped the King, prompting him to refocus his attention on Maera. “Do you practice with the sword often?” he inquired, his voice carrying a tone of genuine curiosity.

The little girl nodded eagerly, her eyes alight with enthusiasm. “Yes, my King. My father does not like it though. But since he is in King's Landing most of the time, that does not stop my brothers from training me at home,” she explained, her words tinged with a hint of defiance.

Aemond chuckled softly at his friend's response, his admiration for her resilience growing with each passing moment. It was fascinating to learn more about Maera's family dynamics, and despite the unconventional size of her household, there was a sense of warmth and camaraderie that seemed to permeate their interactions.

“And tell me, why were you able to knock Prince Aegon to the ground so easily?” the old King prodded with a mischievous smirk, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Maera returned the grin, her gaze briefly flickering to Aegon and wagging her tongue at him teasingly, before returning to meet the King's eyes. “Because he was not paying attention and let his confidence get the better of him… as usual,” she quipped, her words laced with playful banter.

Viserys erupted into hearty laughter, a sound that resonated with a joyousness that Aemond had rarely heard from his father. Despite his failing health, the King's laughter seemed to invigorate the air around them, infusing the moment with an unexpected sense of lightness. Using his one hand to wipe away a tear from laughing so hard, the King addressed the little girl with genuine admiration. “Ha! You remind me of my daughter.”

Maera's gaze briefly flickered towards Aemond, a fleeting moment of shared understanding passing between them. Aemond could sense her apprehension, her awareness of the overshadowing presence of Rhaenyra, even in her absence. It was a reminder of the constant struggle for recognition within the House of the Dragon, a struggle that often left Alicent and her children feeling diminished and overlooked.

The young Lady cocked her head to the side, furrowed her brows and feigning confusion. “You have two daughters, your Grace.”

The King seemed taken aback by her statement, even though there was nothing malicious or ill-intentioned in the words. Perhaps hearing them was merely a reminder of what was true. Viserys did indeed have two daughters, as well as three sons. Yet that would not appear to be the case by how devoted he seemed to one child over the others. Not quite knowing what to say, the King smiled weekly a nodded before walking away, leaving Aemond to contemplate when the next time would be his father would be present.

“I wish for you to come with us,” Helaena implored, her voice tinged with longing.

Aemond and Helaena paid a visit to Maera in her chambers, knowing that she was bedridden with a stomach bug and could use some company. As they entered Maera’s room, Aemond couldn’t help but notice the stark contrast to his own chambers. Maera’s room was much smaller, containing only the essentials—a single bed, a small hearth, and a modest table for writing and dining. It lacked the grandeur and opulence of the rooms typically found in the Red Keep, yet it held a simple charm that felt inviting and comforting.

Maera shook her head weakly, a croak in her voice as she spoke. “You both should not even be in here,” she cautioned, her concern evident despite her illness. “My father will kill me if I get you sick.”

The young Prince was concerned for his friend. The poor girl appeared pale, her dark brown hair damp against her forehead from feverish perspiration. Unlike her usual attire, Maera was still dressed in her nightgown, covered by a sheet as she lay in bed, clearly weakened by her illness.

News had reached the Capital of Lady Laena Velaryon’s untimely passing during childbirth and the King had made it clear that the family were required to attend not only to support the Velaryons, but the Kings brother, Daemon. Aemond continued swinging his legs off the edge of the bed as he contemplated their situation. “I do not think we have ever been to Driftmark before. And what a dreary affair for a first-time visit,” he remarked, his tone tinged with a hint of wistfulness.

Maera’s eyes lit up at his words, a flicker of wonder shining through her illness. “But the sea and open air! It reminds me of home,” she mused, a faint smile gracing her lips.

They had been each others’ greatest allies for what seemed like a lifetime already, and Aemond was unsure if he could be strong without Maera’s presence. And he would need strength to be around some particular attendees of the funeral.

“Rhaenyra and my nephews will be there also,” he admitted reluctantly, his words carrying a weight of anticipation.

Maera winced visibly at his revelation, shifting beneath her sheets. “That will be awkward. But you never know, maybe some time together could improve things?” she suggested optimistically, her attempt at positivity met with a skeptical chuckle from Aemond.

“Hmmm, I doubt it, but we will see,” he responded with a wry smile, his skepticism evident in his tone.

Meanwhile, Helaena, who had remained quiet and distant throughout their conversation, suddenly spoke up in a trance-like state, her words carrying an ominous weight. “He will have to close an eye,” she muttered cryptically, her words hanging heavy in the air.

Aemond and Maera exchanged a puzzled glance, uncertainty clouding their expressions. The atmosphere in the room grew tense as they pondered the meaning behind her enigmatic statement, a sense of foreboding settling over them like a heavy shroud.

"I am fine, Maera," he said curtly, his voice carrying a note of finality. "I have what I wanted."

Aemond walked away from Maera, his emotions churning within him like a stormy sea. He had hoped for her to share in his triumph, to revel in the glory of his achievement. He had thought they would celebrate together, perhaps even take a thrilling ride on his newfound dragon mount. But instead, Maera's reaction had shattered his expectations, leaving him seething with frustration and hurt.

As he walked, Aemond couldn't shake the image of Maera's horrified face from his mind. The way she had looked at him, at his eye socket now stitched shut, had pierced him to the core. It was as if she saw him differently, as if his injury had somehow changed their dynamic, and the thought angered him.

Aemond felt a surge of resentment building within him. He didn't want Maera's pity, nor anyone else's. He had accomplished the impossible—he had claimed a dragon, defying all odds and expectations. Yet, instead of admiration or celebration, all he received was sympathy, and it left a bitter taste in his mouth. In that moment, he felt like a beggar in Flea Bottom, seen as less than, and weak, and Aemond resolved to fight that . He was a prince, a dragonrider, and he deserved to be treated as such.

After the devastating loss of his eye, Aemond made a conscious decision to rebuild himself, determined to prove that he was not defined by his injury but rather by his strength and resilience. He threw himself into his studies with a newfound intensity, delving into history and philosophy with a hunger for knowledge that bordered on obsession. Privately, he trained with Ser Criston multiple times a day, honing his combat skills with unwavering focus and dedication, refusing to allow himself to be distracted by self-pity or doubt.

Aemond also devoted himself to mastering High Valyrian, determined to excel in every aspect of his education. He rode Vhagar regularly, forging a deep and unbreakable bond with his dragon companion, ensuring that their connection remained strong and unwavering, wanting to become the strongest rider that had ever lived.

Aemond couldn't deny that he was now changed, and not just because he had become a dragon rider. The loss of his eye at the hands of Lucerys Velaryon had left a deep and lasting impact on him, one that went beyond the physical injury. While he had assured his mother that it was a fair exchange, inwardly he knew that his view on the world had shifted irrevocably.

Anger simmered beneath the surface of Aemond's outward composure, fueled by the injustice of what had happened to him. Yet, he found himself unable to express his fury openly, constrained by the decree of his father and King. So the anger festered within him, growing with each passing day, despite his best efforts to bury himself in his pursuits.

In the midst of his turmoil, the young Prince found himself avoiding his siblings and, unfortunately, Maera. He wasn't ready to face them, not yet. He needed time to become better, cleverer, stronger—not just physically, but in every aspect—so that he would not only be seen as the cripple he had become.

The night on Driftmark, Aemond had witnessed firsthand the weakness of his father, King Viserys, who had failed to assert his authority and defend his family's honor. Even his brother, Aegon, had proven himself to be lacking in strength and resolve. Realising that he could not rely on anyone else to protect his family, Aemond took it upon himself to step into the role of protector . He knew that the burden of responsibility rested heavily on his shoulders, but he was determined to rise to the occasion and prove himself worthy of his heritage.

After many months of introspection and self-improvement, Aemond finally felt ready to reconnect with his friend, Maera. Steeling himself against the lingering shame and insecurity that had plagued him since the incident, he made his way to her chambers, determined to resume their friendship as if nothing had changed.

However, upon entering Maera’s room, Aemond was met with a chilling emptiness. The familiar sights of her belongings—dresses, hair combs, and the wooden sword she often practiced with—were conspicuously absent, leaving the room devoid of the warmth and life that Maera had brought to it.

The young Prince attempted to gain answers from his sister, yet Helaena could not give a straight answer, avoiding eye contact and instead focussing on the Perisomena moths in metal cage. Instead, Aemond found his mother, bursting into her chambers with a sense of urgency, his single violet eye ablaze with concern as he scanned the room for any sign of Maera’s presence. Finding Queen Alicent seated beside the hearth, her hands deftly embroidering with delicate green silk, he wasted no time in voicing his demand.

“Where is Lady Maera?” he demanded, his voice betraying both strength and worry as he confronted his mother.

Alicent looked up from her stitching, her expression softening with sympathy as she met her son’s gaze. “She is gone, my Love. Back to Rain House,” she replied gently, her sad smile conveying her understanding of Aemond’s distress.

The shock registered plainly on Aemond’s face, his brows furrowing with disbelief as he processed the news, his feelings morphing from sadness to anger and betrayal. She had not waited for him, had not even said goodbye. Maera had abandoned him, his only friend in the entire world. His anger surged, directed squarely at his mother. “And you just let her go?” he exclaimed, his frustration evident in his tone as he struggled to comprehend the girls sudden departure.

In that moment, Aemond felt a searing pain radiate from where his eye used to be, spreading like wildfire through his skull. His hand instinctively flew to his face as he groaned in agony, the phantom sensation of the blade cutting open his flesh haunting him once more.

Alicent reacted swiftly, abandoning her embroidery to rush to her son’s side, her hands reaching out to cradle his head in a gesture of comfort and concern. “Talya, fetch the Maester,” she called out to her servant, her voice tinged with urgency as she tended to Aemond’s distress.

As the pain gradually subsided, leaving behind a lingering sense of disloyalty and anger, Aemond stubbornly brushed off his mother’s attempts to assist him. “I am fine, Mother,” he insisted tersely, his tone brimming with unresolved anger and hurt. With a curt nod, he abruptly turned on his heel and stormed out of his mother’s chambers, his heart heavy with the weight of Maera’s departure and the unanswered questions swirling in his mind.

Aegon found him some time later on his balcony, where the younger prince looked out towards the sea, still processing the emptiness he felt. Seeing his older brother in his chambers, Aemond groaned at his presence, praying to the Gods that they would grant him just one moment of reprieve.

“You weep for your long lost love, brother?” The older Prince asked teasingly, earning a quiet huff from Aemond. As the one-eyed Prince was about to ask his brother to leave, he turned to spot Aegon’s arm outstretched with a leather canteen, a sympathetic smile on his face.

Cautiously, Aemond took it, unscrewing the bottle and taking a quick swig, the bitterness of the wine causing him to cough. Aegon simply laughed, patting his brother on the shoulder before settling beside him on the balcony.

“Do not fret. Now that she is gone I can teach you how to be a proper man.”

Notes: I am powering through these Aemond POVs. Also the new HOTD trailer has come out and I’m obsessed so doing an Aemond chapter feels easier at the moment. Regular ODAM needs editing and will be uploaded soon but for now, I am vibing with this 😎

Tags: @0eessirk8 @magicseahorse @blue-serendipity @abecerra611 @saltedcaramelpretzel @marvelescvpe @manipulatixe @watercolorskyy @shesjustanothergeek

Thank you so much for reading! Comments, feedback, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🖤

#maera wylde #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #chapters #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #house targaryen #house wylde #hotd helaena #house of the dragon

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wally-b-feed · 7 months

Text

Anthony Fineran (B 1981), Liber Hall Yorke, 2023

#Anthony Fineran #Art #Google #Liber #Hall #Yorke #Martin Barré #Worcester #Reid #School #Forest

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baptisedinblackwater · 30 days

Text

Book release!

X book of black drones and loud screams X X visual information of an existing book is filtered by covering parts of the pages with black tape X An ‘Artist book’ by z\w\a\r\t magazine \ Max Kuiper.

Published by r\a\w f\o\r\m\s.

Facebook eventpage: https://www.facebook.com/events/394287546751173

Coincides with an two days exhibition of pages of the book in a dressing room in a former gymnastics hall in Brugge/Bruges, Belgium.

4 and 5 may 2024

X book of black drones and loud screams X

is part of a group exhibition in a number of dressing rooms:

ART WEEKEND

Facebook event page:

Howest oude turnzaal

Klaverstraat 52 8000 Brugge

Organized by ‘House of Art’

In The Netherlands, 4 may is ‘Remembrance Day’ (Dodenherdenking), an annual observance that remembers those who died during war and in peace-keeping operations. It is the day before ‘Liberation Day.’

\ more information on the book will follow

#house of art #art #artist book #r\a\w f\o\r\m\s #z\w\a\r\t #z\w\a\r\t magazine #photo #visual art #photography #r\a\w m\a\t\e\r\i\a\l #zine #magazine #book #Brugge #Howest #art event #book release #collage

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angelasscribbles · 6 months

Text

Coup D'état

Series: Insurrection

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Liam x Riley

Word Count: 1,021

Rating: MA

Warnings for this chapter: None

A/N: So a little over a year ago I wrote a one-shot called King Breaker. Almost everyone demanded a follow-up. I did not give them one. Until now. I always had some vague ideas for it, but no real inspiration. Then one day I heard this song and suddenly all kinds of ideas were in my head.

My other stuff: Master List.

The soldiers searched the room, upending furniture and destroying priceless art. Muddy boots marred the previously pristine marble of the throne room.

The commander strode through the door, his steps heavy. He paused as his eyes scanned the empty room. “Status report!” he bellowed.

“Sir, there’s no one here.”

The rebellion leader shook his head, “Multiple witnesses saw them both enter this room. There must be a hidden chamber or something. Keep searching!”

The new, self-appointed leader of the Cordonian government strolled through the historic hall, taking in the ancient tapestries and formal portraits before stopping in front of one particular gilded frame.

A young Constantine Rys stared sternly out at him, classically handsome in full Cordonian regalia, golden crown gleaming on his dark blond head. His fingers ran across the canvas as he stared into eyes that were identical to his own, “You should have acknowledged me when you had the chance, old man.”

When he had circumnavigated the room, he approached the throne and lowered himself onto it. Lost in thought, he didn’t see his co-leader approaching until a voice pulled him out of his reverie.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

His eyes snapped to the other man’s face, noting the disapproval in his tone, “Sitting.”

“Well, can you find another place to sit? That thing needs to be ripped out and destroyed. It’s a symbol of the oppression we vowed to end.”

The dark-haired young man with ocean-blue eyes and the signature Rys jawline let out a noncommittal, “Hm,” as he regarded his partner.

Anton Severus, the bastard son of the late king had enticed The Liberation Core to join forces with The Sons of the Earth to increase their odds of success against a common enemy, but the Liberation Core was full of idealistic idiots. The common people weren’t fit to rule themselves and Anton had no intention of giving up his newfound power. This was what he had spent his life working toward.

They had used the Liberation Core’s contacts, intel, and technology to stage a successful coup, but the vast majority of the forces currently sweeping through the palace were his. Once the capital was secure, his men would turn on their compatriots. Members of The Core would be given the choice to swear fealty to their new and rightful king. They could join his guard, or they could die. It made no difference to him.

He had offered Constantine a chance to meet his unacknowledged son. A chance to claim him, publicly, to insert him into his rightful place in the line of succession, but the old man had refused, sealing his fate.

Anton’s mother might have been a lowly palace maid, but the royal Rys blood ran through his veins.

Leo’s abdication had spurred him into action. Anton was older than Liam by six months. He was next in line, not that spoiled, coddled brat.

Leo and Liam had been given every advantage that had been denied to him. Even Drake and Savannah Walker, commoners, had been given a royal upbringing, a private education, and full access to the crown’s funds for their every whim while he had languished in the backwoods of Krona.

In response to the announcement of her pregnancy, his mother had been given five years' severance pay plus a bonus for ‘exemplary service’ and sent on her way.

Constantine might have meant for the money to provide for his illegitimate child for quite a few years, but the money and his mother were gone in two leaving his grandmother to raise him.

Anton watched his grandmother struggle to make ends meet. He grew up under the yoke of extreme poverty and felt the sting of deprivation. That is until an elegant and mysterious red-haired woman showed up on their doorstep, taking him under her wing and funding his education.

Anton sat at the best table in the most expensive restaurant in Vallenheim. Across the table was the woman who had funded his entire private education at the elite and prestigious Vallenheim Oaks Preparatory School.

“I’m sorry about your grandmother, Anton.” She was saying.

“Thank you,” he replied stoically, “for everything. Thanks to you her last years were more than comfortable, and she had the best medical care the world has to offer.”

“I’m sure it was some amount of comfort to you both that you got to spend her last days with her.”

“Again, thanks to you. I know I was allowed to take a leave in the middle of the term because you spoke to the headmaster on my behalf.” He fidgeted nervously in his seat, toying with his food.

“What is it, Anton?” she asked sharply. “Say whatever it is that’s on your mind.”

He licked his lips as his eyes met hers then dropped his gaze to his plate, “I…I don’t mean to sound ungrateful but…why? Why have you done so much for us?”

It wasn’t just his education. It was a new house for his grandmother and all of her living expenses. Her medical care at the end and all of the funeral expenses.

Lucretia Nevrakis sat her wine glass on the table in front of her and leaned forward, “Anton, lift your eyes and look at me. It’s time you learned who you really are.”

Instead of responding to his co-conspirator, Anton turned his head as his second-in-command approached, “Claudius, there you are! Status report.”

“No sign of the king, Commander.”

“He’s not the king anymore,” Anton reminded him.

“Of course, sir.”

Ignoring the leader of the Liberation Core who was still glaring daggers at him, Anton asked, “And my traitorous ex-girlfriend?”

The world knew Riley Brooks as the king’s fiancée. She was meant to marry a king alright, but she had chosen the wrong man. He had planned to make her his queen, but that was before she had disobeyed direct orders to rid the world of his younger half-brother and tipped him off about the attack, giving him the time he needed to escape.

“Sorry, sir, nothing yet.”

“Well, when you find her, bring the backstabbing whore to me.”

#the royal romance #trr #trr au #the royal romance fanfic #trr fanfic #choices trr #trr fandom #liam rys #liam x mc #angelasscribbles #choices stories you play #choices

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