#I'm impressed and full of gratitude | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nogenderbee · 6 months

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♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ ℂ𝕦𝕥𝕖 𝕞𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ anon request: Could I request Welt, Jing Yuan and Blade with a a lover who summons cute monsters to fight?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Yes!! Honestly, I found it actually so cute I loved writing it ^^ Picked oneshot format because I just had general idea for it, so hope you still like it!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff, TW: description of fights

Welt and you were just exploring new planet, admiring it's scenery, when you were stopped by group of local enemies.

"Let's deal with them so we can continue our trip..."

You said a bit annoyed, as your date was interrupted and now you had to fight instead of having romantic walk.

Your boyfriend just nodded and in the next second, you did your little ritual in order to summon your cute monsters! Welt knew you could summon cuties like that hut he'd never assume you'd summon them to fight! But he decided to just take this fight on him and do his best to protect you, not aware of what your summons could do.

"Love, watch out!"

He yelled to you, when he noticed monster attacking you. His voice and expression was full of panic, just for it to be surprised in the next second, when your summons turned out to be actually terrifying... They still looked cute but they'd most likely be able to rip off someone's head...

"That's... ehem, I'm happy to know you can protect yourself. Let's continue our walk, shall we?"

He may act like he's neutral towards your powers, but he's actually intrigued! He just chooses not to ask you this directly, as to not make you uncomfortable and because you have a date right now, and he wishes to enjoy it too~

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@vodka-glrl - come get your father of the express!

You wanted to show Jing Yuan a really nice spot after his hard days if work. He told you he doesn't recall place like that, but the truth is he just couldn't tell it to your face he knows it, so he nade a sweet kid that he'll tell you about later either way. It's worth seeing your excited smile.

You were just enabling about these very pretty flowers you found there when he suddenly pulled out in, avoiding monsters attack.

"Watch out. I'll have to ask you to get behind my, sweetheart. I promise I'll solve it quickly."

"Just leave it to me this time!"

You actually stepped forward, wanting to take care of him for once and maybe to impress him too~

"Just be careful. And know I have your back if anything happens."

He gave you a gentle nod and you became your little ritual. Jing Yuan was net with familiar cute looking pink monsters he saw before due to you showing him them. And how surprised was he when they suddenly defrosted all enemies in the blink of an eye...

But when you looked at him after him realizing how powerful you are, instead of being shocked it startled, he actually had a gentle smile and have one of your cute monsters a pat.

"You have my gratitude for protecting my lover and me."

He actually takes a like of them! He'll be happy to have them around as he trusts you and so does he trust your summons! He'll simply appreciate it and lower his guard a bit whenever they're around.

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@miya-akane - come get your soft general~

"Get behind me."

"Oh c'mon, you don't need to always baby me! I can fight enemies myself!"

"Just don't complain when you get hurt."

You and Blade were on his mission together. If you're Stallaron Hunter or not, only is your decision, but you decided to help him on it at least a bit either way!

He was fighting with his sword like usually, this time also leaving you behind a bit, not caring to check on you as much since you wanted to fight for yourself. He'd probably look when you yell or something... who knows this man?

"Hold on, I'll just summon my monsters!"

You announced and your boyfriend looked your way for a second, you did your little ritual and soon, here they were. Pink flying octopus with way too big eyes and also a pink cat with the same situation. Blade's jaw dropped as his right hand slashed the enemy.

"Please tell me it's another one of your jo-"

But then these cute animals defeated rest of enemies in blink of an eye... brutal blink of an eye... Your boyfriend's look of disappointed quickly changed into his neutral expression. But he was actually quite impressed with how deceiving and yet powerful your monsters are.

"I guess you can fight for yourself after all..."

"See?"

"Well you'll do just that from now on."

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@vodka-glrl - come get your cold man!

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exponenshul · 1 month

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Life Drawing

SYNOPSIS: A pregnant woman is offered big money to pose as a nude model for a two hour figure drawing class, but her water breaks right before she's set to start. Can she make it through the class without a problem? (Contains pregnancy and birth. Reader discretion advised.)

::::::::::

Faith patiently rode up the elevator, trying to keep her nerves in check. This was a big day for her...she had to keep her cool.

She was currently full term pregnant, and certainly showed it. Her belly was impressively full and round, skin smooth and taut. She looked like she could go into labor any moment. That wasn't why she was there today, however.

Professionally, Faith worked as an art model. For years she went to art schools, posing nude for students' figure drawings. It was a role that took a lot of confidence and patience. Since getting pregnant, not only had she needed to change her techniques, but business was booming.

Getting a model to pose was one thing; getting a pregnant one was another. She was a hot commodity currently, and the school she was visiting was willing to pay her a lot of money to do a session. Enough money that she wouldn't dare pass it up, even though she was ready to pop any day.

And so, Faith rode the elevator up to the fourth floor, where the figure drawing studios were located. She took a deep breath, steeling herself to face the students and do her best work.

Once she arrived, she first met the older lady professor, who greeted her warmly and with gratitude.

"Thank you for coming in today, Faith!" The professor said. "It's not often we get to draw from a model with your, well...body type! Haha."

Faith chuckled. "Well, thank you for having me! Always a pleasure. I'm excited to get to work."

The professor guided Faith down the hall and to the classroom. The students were all present already, seated behind easels and pads of paper, forming a circle around a platform in the middle of the room, where Faith would be posing.

"Class, this is Faith, our model for today," The professor announced. "Please give her a warm welcome and treat her with respect!"

Faith looked around the room, smiling and giving a small wave. Typical for tired college students, most looked to her with blank expressions, though she got some smiles back. She noticed that many kept glancing toward her belly, but that was to be expected. Her pregnancy would no doubt be the focus of the session.

"I'm going to go change and then I'll be ready to start!" Faith said warmly. The professor prompted the students to take out their drawing materials while Faith left to find the bathroom.

::::::::::

She was changing, yes, but also realized the importance of emptying her bladder before having to sit on a platform for two hours. As she sat, she was steeling her nerves. Although she'd done this many times before, it was still anxiety-inducing having to stand naked in front of so many watching eyes. And the more pregnant she got, the more she felt like students were...ogling her. Like she was a spectacle. But for the money she'd be getting, she had to perform at her best.

Sighing, she patted her belly. She'd just felt a tug in her middle. Perhaps her baby was nervous as well?

But then, she felt a certain release inside her. She gasped as she felt a torrent of fluid gush out from her crotch.

Horrified, she looked between her legs and into the toilet bowl. It definitely was not pee. But that meant...

She'd been feeling these sort of cramps earlier in the day and the previous night, but she'd figured it was just indigestion, or Braxton hicks at the most. But seeing that her water had just broken, Faith realized she was in labor.

Faith cursed. Why did this have to happen now, when she was about to score one of her highest paying gigs in years?! There was no way she'd get an opportunity like this again, especially after she had the baby...

She sat a moment longer as her mind raced. Well, labor typically lasted many hours, right? If she could get through the session, she could fulfill her job and still get to the hospital soon after...right?

Faith rubbed her belly and took a deep breath. "Hang on, baby. We've got some poses to do."

::::::::::

Faith reentered the classroom wearing nothing but a thin robe. The students turned their heads toward her expectantly.

"Welcome back! Are you ready to start, Faith?" The professor asked.

"Sure am," Faith said, trying her best to sound enthusiastic. She made her way to the center of the room as the professor explained the plan to the class.

"All right students, like I said, be respectful of our model's time and services. Absolutely NO cell phones or cameras are allowed to be out while she is in the room. We are going to start with shorter, more dynamic poses and work our way toward longer poses."

Faith took a deep breath. This was all standard stuff. She'd be fine.

She got up onto the platform, where there was a wooden chair, a gallon of water with some cups, and a heating fan waiting for her, to keep her comfortable as she worked. As she poured herself some water and turned on the fan, the professor continued on.

"We'll start with ten one-minute poses to start off and get warmed up. These will be quick, so get down the essentials."

As the students prepped their drawing materials and paper pads, Faith began undoing her robe. Students glanced at her, trying not to seem like they were staring. But that was all right, they were going to be staring at her anyway—it was just part of the lesson.

"After each set of poses, we'll take short breaks to review our work and let Faith rest," The professor said, pulling a timer from her pocket. "Now, let's begin!"

With that, Faith removed her robe, setting it on the chair behind her, and revealing her fully nude pregnant form to the students. They took in her curves, her engorged breasts, the swell of her belly. All from a professional standpoint, of course. They were there to learn, not to ogle.

Things started off pretty smoothly. Faith began with her usual quick, dynamic poses—stretching her arms out as if reaching for something, twisting around, kneeling—all things that showed off her pregnant curves. The students worked quickly and diligently, moving their drawing implements deftly to capture her form with each new pose. Nobody spoke, so the only sounds were of pencil to paper, breathing, and the soft, meditative music the professor had set to play.

Between the seventh and eighth poses, though, Faith felt it—a contraction. It was strong, signaling that she was definitely in labor. Her body tensed and she grimaced, but she tried to play it off, making it seem like it was just a part of her switching poses. If she started visibly showing that she was in labor, she'd have to give up the job for sure.

She powered through the rest of the one-minute poses without another hitch. As the students flipped their sketchbook pages and sharpened their pencils, she took a breather and glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes in, another hour and forty-five to go.

The professor got the class's attention. "All right, students! Now that we're warmed up, we're going to move on to the next portion—six poses of five minutes each."

Faith braced herself. She had to really focus now.

"Now is the time to start focusing on details," The professor continued. "Get the basic shapes down, then fill in the values to really capture our model's form. Let's begin!"

Faith brought out her repertoire of mid-length poses, ones that she could hold for a longer period of time but were still somewhat dynamic. For the first one, she stood with her legs apart, hands pressed against her back and jutting her belly out. No problems there.

Just before the pose was set to end, though, she felt another tug in her gut, slightly stronger than the last. She exhaled and bent forward a bit, moving one of her arms to hold her belly. A couple of the students gave her a look.

After a moment, the professor's stop watch beeped. She looked at Faith and said lightly, "Thank you, but if you could, please hold the pose up until the timer goes off."

"R-right," Faith said, somewhat embarrassed. She never broke a pose before the time was up like that. "Sorry, the baby was just...kicking."

She had to use more self control. It wouldn't be good to have the professor annoyed at her, or worse, suspicious of what was happening.

Faith kept working through the next two poses. She chose positions that were dynamic, but that were easy to hide any pain or flinching if need be. The next contraction came in between the third and fourth poses in the set, so she was able to be discreet about it. They were ten minutes apart now...not so bad. She was going to be fine.

Still, her heart rate was picking up as she tried to run through a game plan in her mind. As soon as the poses were done, she would go to the hospital. But should she really be driving in her condition? She could take the bus, but no, that would take too long...and an ambulance would be expensive, and cause a commotion...

She was near the end of the fifth pose and weighing her options as the next contraction hit, but she handled it well. She braced herself and held her breath, and she only barely twitched. She just hoped that nobody was able to notice her muscles contracting from their vantage points, because she was certainly feeling them.

Feeling confident as they entered the last five-minute pose, Faith went for a more dynamic angle, lunging forward with her arms raised as if she were running. She thought it would be fine, but to her discontent, another contraction hit just past the second minute. It caught her more off guard and she winced slightly, her back leg shaking for a moment until she could get a hold of herself.

That was definitely less than ten minutes. She glanced at the clock...was it eight minutes? No, seven...?

Her anxiety was rising by the time the five-minute poses were through and the class took a brief respite. After putting on her robe, she sat down, drank some water and took deep breaths. The professor walked around the classroom, admiring the students' work.

"These are all wonderful," she said proudly. "Faith, would you like to come see some of the sketches?"

"Ah, I think I'll wait and see some later," Faith breathed, as politely as she could. In all honesty, she was most focused on staying as still as possible so she could focus on riding out the contractions. She felt another one as she sat there and cursed under her breath, rubbing her bulging, restless belly. Soon, baby, just hold on...

After a few more minutes, it was time to start the second half of the session. They were an hour in and had an hour left to go.

The professor brought some large cushions up to the platform Faith was sitting at. "Since we'll be starting on our longer poses, I thought you could use these to stay comfortable."

Faith appreciated the gesture, but knew she was going to be far from comfortable.

With that, the professor went back and addressed the class. "Okay, students! You've done well so far. Now we're going to try some longer, more detail-oriented drawings. Spend time on studying how light falls across the model's body, how her muscles are laid out under the skin. We will do three poses of fifteen minutes each, with short breaks in between."

Faith gulped and steeled herself. All right, she could do this. She just had to finish the last few poses. Get through fifteen minutes, three times. Secure the payday. Then she should call an Uber and get out of here to deliver her baby.

For the first pose, she set up the cushions and lay down on her side, one arm propping her up and the other draped across her belly. She knew she would have to ride out two or three contractions during this pose, so she needed to be as relaxed as possible.

The students began to sketch and draw, watching her intently, focusing on every part of her. To a degree, she was used to this, but right now she was feeling particularly vulnerable. They were all watching her progress through labor, and they didn't know it...or did they? Could they tell when her naked body tensed up? Did they know she was in labor but just weren't saying anything...? No, no, she was passing it off just fine. No need to make herself more anxious than she already was.

The next contraction came. It was the most intense and drawn out yet. She held her breath and ever-so-subtly tightened her grip on the swell of her belly. Her baby was shifting inside her, ready to be born.

Faith could feel herself getting sweaty from the exertion and the anxiety. Labor was progressing much more quickly than she thought. She tried to control her breathing, but her heart was starting to pound. Each minute was going by painfully slow, yet all too fast at the same time. By the time the next contraction hit her, less than five minutes later, she felt like she hadn't even gotten any rest in between. And yet, she kept her pose diligently.

Breathing through the tight, painful squeezing of her muscles, Faith tried to stay focused. She had an idea of what she would do for the next two poses. Then, in between them, she could quickly use her phone to call over an Uber, so that it would be waiting for her as soon as the class ended. She was realizing now that there wasn't going to be much time to spare.

The next contraction gripped her hard. Her breath caught and she tensed up in a way that was definitely noticeable. Luckily, the professor was distracted admiring the students' work and the students themselves couldn't have cared less.

Faith clenched her jaw. According to the clock, it had been only four minutes since the last one. Her contractions were rapidly getting closer together, and each one was stronger than the last. Would she really be able to do this?

Mercifully, after that contraction, the pose ended. Faith sat up, doing her best to act natural, but she was getting tired. She would be tired at this point in any normal pose session, but right now she was really spent. It was going to take a good amount of willpower to even get into her next position.

She looked around for her phone, wanting to schedule her Uber ride. She then realized it was still in her bag with her clothes, across the room. Well, so much for that plan. There was no way she wanted to get up and walk around right now...surely that would only accelerate her labor.

Another contraction. It was strong, blinding. This labor was going way too fast. She could feel the baby moving down.

"Faith, are you ready for the next pose?" The professor inquired.

"Yes," Faith managed. "Just...a moment."

Fighting the pain and pressure, she eased herself into the next pose. It was on her knees and elbows, head held up as best as possible, belly hanging low, grazing the soft cushions beneath her. Nothing too strenuous, and at this angle, she hoped gravity would help her delay her labor.

It was a good plan that unfortunately did not yield much success. Faith kept facing more and more contractions, each one causing her to strain. She was quickly learning how to cover it up, but there were things she couldn't help, like her belly gently lifting up from the cushion when her muscles tensed, and her breath catching when the pain gripped her. She just needed to be discreet enough that no one would call her out...but this labor was relentless.

Nearing the end of the pose, Faith was of course hit with another contraction- she had lost count of how many there were at this point. They had to be less than three minutes apart. With this one, she could feel the mass within her shift, like the baby's head was entering her birth canal. She gritted her teeth but could not prevent the rough grunt that escaped her throat.

This time, several people noticed. Eyes glanced up from sketch pads.

The professor tilted her head. "Faith? Are you all right?"

"Yeah, all good," Faith lied. "Just...a cough."

"All right. Well, very good- let's take a short rest before the final pose, class."

It felt almost impossible for Faith to move, but she managed to slowly get back into a casual sitting position. She was sweating bullets now, palms slick, hair matted, the skin on her belly glistening. Her belly rested heavily on her as the mass settled into her pelvis. The strain was becoming overwhelming...she desperately wanted to be in a cool hospital room, epidural at the ready...but she was almost done here. One more pose. Just fifteen minutes remained.

Plus, she had a plan for this last one. It would be the perfect way to-

"Faith?" The professor called. "If you don't mind, I have a request for this last pose."

Faith's heart pounded and she breathed heavily. "S-sure, of course."

"If you could, I'd like you to go on your back, sitting up slightly. And if you could have your knees up, hands resting on your thighs...I think this would be an important pose for us to study."

Faith's mind reeled. She couldn't believe it...the professor was asking her to get into what was unmistakably a birthing position. But there was no way she could refuse. "N-no problem...just...just give me a second."

She tried to hype herself up. She'd spent years in this practice building stamina and learning how to endure. She was strong, she could do this. But as she got into position, resting back against the cushions, she was hit with a contraction- and an undeniable, instinctual feeling.

She was feeling the urge to push. Already, she was fully dilated. There wasn't much time. The baby was coming now!

No, no! She thought to herself, hopelessly trying to keep her cool. We're almost done! I can't give birth now!

The professor must have seen the look on the poor woman's face. "Are you sure this is comfortable for you, Faith?"

"I'm fine," Faith grunted, as she sat back with her knees up, legs spread. "Just start the timer."

And thus, the final countdown began. Faith needed to gather every ounce of her willpower to make it through, but her strength was dwindling. Her eyes twitched as she struggled to maintain a straight face. Her arms and legs spasmed at random as she tried to keep from trembling. And now, the contractions were just about on top of each other. Her baby was definitely moving its way down into her birth canal, and she was naked with her legs splayed. But she had to hold on.

Five minutes passed. The urge to push was becoming unbearable. Faith's belly quaked and heaved with her breathing, now dripping with sweat. She desperately wanted to clutch it, to try and coax the baby into staying inside, but she was forced to keep her hands on her thighs. Her nails dug into her flesh painfully as she tensed. By not pushing, she was going against every natural instinct. Feeling the baby slowly push through her was torturous. Her body was screaming at her, but still, she did not give in.

"Mmph..." she murmured, behind pursed lips. Quiet, but again audible enough to be heard. Her eyes darted around the classroom. The students who had been observing her body and drawing it for the past couple hours were beginning to tell that something was off...she could feel it. She saw it in the way some of them looked at her longer, or differently, with hints of concern in their eyes. Some of them glanced at each other, perhaps to see if anyone else was noticing. Would any of them say something? Did they think it was part of the session- that she was just a great actor?

Ten minutes in, Faith was faltering. Should she just throw in the towel, cry out that she was in labor? Would that be better or worse for her? And just how was she planning on leaving after the pose was done...? She felt the baby move down by just another bit, and her jaw clenched. She was so close. She just had to keep going.

The urge to push hit her at its strongest then, panic surging in her heart. Holding back was like trying not to breathe now...very soon she was going to have to give in, just to release some of the pressure.

Another contraction, and the baby's head forced through her more. She could feel the burning of the mass nearing her exit. Her breathing was shaky and ragged, her composure cracking. Just hold on, just hold on...

With only a minute to go, Faith was about to give in. Her muscles squeezed unbearably, her bulging belly tight and heaving. Her toes curled and her back ached. One more contraction and she could take it no longer. She listened to her body and bore down ever so slightly. The head inched toward being born. She could feel her vulva beginning to bulge out from the mass behind it. This was it, she'd run out of time, and there was no stopping it now. She began to tremble. Everyone was going to see it, her pussy lips slowly parting, the head of her baby starting to...

"All right, and that's time!" The professor called. "Great work, everyone. Put your pencils down so we can go around and admire everyone's work."

The students stopped where they were, putting away their tools and organizing their papers.

The professor turned toward Faith. "And everyone say thank you to our model, who did an amazing job for us today!"

A spattering of tired-to-enthusiastic "thank yous" rang out.

Noticing that the model had not moved, the professor continued, "...And Faith, we're all done now, so feel free to pack up."

Faith did not respond.

Quizzically, the professor called out again. "Faith...?"

Then, one student chimed in, who was still looking at Faith with wide eyes and a furrowed brow. "Ummm...."

Another student stood up. "Oh shit, I think she's giving birth!"

Everyone in the classroom looked back at Faith. Sure enough, the top of a baby's head could be plainly seen crowning between her legs.

At this point, Faith threw her head back and bellowed out. "Ooooooh GOD I'M SORRY! THE BABY'S COMING!"

All at once, the room turned to chaos. Most stood frozen, unsure of what to do. The professor, completely in shock, scrambled to grab her phone and call 911. A couple students broke the no-phones rule and took pictures. Some even flipped to new pages in their sketchbooks and began to feverishly draw what was happening.

Faith, with all resolve and shame out the window, finally pushed with all her might. She grunted and moaned at the top of her lungs as she brought the baby to a full crown. Embracing her current position, she spread her legs as wide as they would go and arched her back, feeling unmistakable relief even through the pain. She couldn't think about the class anymore, or the money...all she could focus on was delivering her baby safely.

After holding out for so long, the baby was able to come quickly. After another few pushes while the class around her scrambled, the head popped out with a gush of fluid. Some students turned away, grossed out. Others watched intently, eager to get some once-in-a-lifetime studies in.

Finally, with the last of her remaining willpower, Faith bore down again, birthing the shoulders and allowing the rest of the baby to slide out onto the platform in front of her. The classroom fell silent, save for the sound of a crying, healthy newborn.

::::::::::

An ambulance quickly arrived, and Faith and her baby were brought in and taken care of. She had a lot of recovery to do, both physical and emotional.

At first, Faith was sure her...'performance' was going to get her in a world of trouble. Surely, she'd get no money, lose her job, and possibly get punished for some sort of indecent exposure.

On the contrary, Faith was surprised to receive double to money she was originally promised. The professor told her that apparently she had amazed everyone with her strength and that they all felt honored that she was willing to share such a special moment with them. Between that and all the news stories that were to follow, she'd forever be known as the first (and only) nude model to give birth during a session.

All in all, it was worth the commitment. And if she ever got pregnant again...well, if the money was right, she'd be willing to work right up until her due date.

::::::::::

END

#pregnant #pregnancy #fpreg #pregblr #preggo kink #birth kink #birth denial #my writing #giving birth #pregnant kink #exponenshul's writing

124 notes · View notes

nrdmssgs · 1 year

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I'm crazy and this is mainly based off my oc, but yn is prices adopted daughter that works with him, and the read is like 22-24 and price is supposed to be 45, and he kept it a secret because he's want to protect yn. I wanna see how the 141/könig reaction, can be romantic or platonic don't care lol, yes i know it's stupidly specific, but I'm stupidly specific.

The reader being Prices adopted daughter (part1)

Masterlist

Summary: you are Johns adopted daughter. This is how different members of the 141 find out about that and how they react.

AN: Hi! I'm almost through with this absolutely beautiful request! I've decided to split it into two parts, I really hope, you don't mind. I've kept it all really platonic and very comforting, and I just wanted to express my gratitude for such a wholesome request! Two important remarks: 1. My interpretation of your OC has turned to be a bisexual person. 2. The order in which the characters appear in the story does not affect their proximity to the main character in any way. This is simply the order in which the characters learned that she was Price's adopted daughter. She loves them all the same) I will, of course, tag you in the second part!!

There were four important names in your life. In your darkest hours, you kept repeating them in your mind. They were so much more than just colleagues, teachers, friends… they all were your family.

John

You were the oldest in your group in an orphanage. Others came and went, but not you. It happened so that you had to grow up ahead of time, get used to the fact that adults more often wanted to adopt babies. But you accepted this world and the rules. You never thought of it as some kind of noble mission, but you took care of your younger friends, worried about them, rejoiced with them. Whenever someone from your group left the shelter forever, you are separated from your friend, but at the same time rejoiced. Caregivers jokingly called you “the Keeper” sometimes, as you cared for other kids as much as a director of the orphanage.

So when one day one of your teachers came up to you after class and said, "There's someone here who wants to meet you," and pointed to a man standing in the doorway, you were confused. The teacher led you to a stranger, and he squatted down so that your eyes were on the same level. "Hi. I'm John." He held out his hand, but noticing your uncertainty, lowered it and smiled warmly at you.

You hit it off quickly. John asked you a lot about life at the orphanage, about your interests. He himself turned out to be an incredibly interesting person: he visited all the corners of the world that you heard about on TV. John told you about jungles and canyons, about villages where all the roads were just small bridges thrown over the water, about ghost towns where it is so cold in winter that the steam from the mouth immediately turns into snow. Your stories seemed not that big to you. What is the story of how you and your friends fed a bumblebee worth compared to John's travels? You were embarrassed by this and quickly reduced such conversations to stories about your younger friends. What if he likes someone and takes one of them home?

“You seem to care for all of them dearly.” Johns looks on the horizon as you two sit on the bench. “You have it in you, kid. Willingness to help, to stand up for them. I see it clearly. Teach me to be like that, will ya?”

You look at him with big eyes full of disbelief. What can you teach him, an adult? Are you used to everyone teaching you something...

"I'm not doing anything special..." You look high into the sky above you. "Well, when any of them is very sad, I hug him with all my might. Maybe you can try to do the same and become like me?"

"Hug with all my might?" John chuckles. "Yes, Simon will be impressed..." But then he sees your worried stare and encourages you, "Hey, that's great advice! I'll try it. But I think, it's now time for you to have dinner, and for me to go home. Don`worry, kid, I promise to come in a week and update you on my progress!"

You do not believe that this man will return, so you try not to wait for him. Most often, adults come back for babies. You remember it. But he comes back a week later. Then he visits you again and again.

Then you end up visiting him. John has a whole house with a backyard! You build a bird feeders together, play board games late into the night, and even go hiking.

These are the best days of your life, and when it's time to go back to the orphanage, you turn your back on John and hide your tears, so he won't notice. "Hold on just a little longer, kid. I'll sort it out soon," he says, and puts a hand on your shoulder.

Whenever he takes you to his house, he gives you something: a plushie or a book or some clothes. But you never took those gifts to your orphanage because you were afraid that one day he would simply stop coming, disappear from your life, and all these trinkets would remind you of him. This little biter habit of yours broke Johns heart over and over again. You were still a child, but you were already afraid to get attached to someone.

One day he takes you back to his house once again. After an evening with cocoa and a board game, he hands you a simple envelope. "This is something very important. Take a look. I need your opinion on it." You are confused, but still open the envelope and start reading the document, that was inside it. You can hardly make out the text, overloaded with terms you are unfamiliar with. And then, little by little, understanding comes to you and the letters begin to blur before your watering eyes.

“Is… is it? I…” You try to say anything, but words fail you. So you jump off your chair and run to John. He barely has time to move away from the table when you do not even hug him - you cling to him with such force, as if your life depended on it. You've always tried to hide your tears in front of him, but now they're rolling and rolling down your face. John hugs you back and pats your head to comfort you. “It's ok, it's ok, I got you. You're gonna be ok, little one. We're gonna be ok. Not ok even - we're gonna be good. Together.” His voice is soft and quiet.

Simon

“I'll need you to take the mask off this time. Don't want you to scare anyone in m`house.” Ghost grants John a side eye and scoffs. “John Price lives alone no more?” John nods and continues to drive silently. Initially, Ghost was supposed to visit Captains house just for business, but now he is tormented by curiosity. “Someone trustworthy?” Ghosts voice is still muffled with the mask. “The most trustworthy person out there,” John smiles and Simon takes the mask off. Ghost enters the house before Price, who lingered at the trunk in search of something. Simon hears joyful kids voice. "John is back!" A girl of about twelve years of age runs down the stairs with a loud clatter. But when she sees Simon, she stops in her tracks. Price often leaves for some time, and she is already used to the fact that strangers often appear in the house: Johns relatives, acquaintances who look after the child while he is away. But Simons menacing appearance made her dumbfounded. She takes a tiny step back when Price's voice comes from the street. “It's ok, kid. This is mister Riley, he's my colleague and friend.” Both Ghost and the girl look at each other startled, not knowing what to say. John finally comes into the house and defuses the situation. "Look who we met on the way home," he says, and hands the girl a plush tiger cub. Her face immediately changes and she happily skips to John.

At dinner, she sits her new toy next to her and bombards Price with questions about his work and stories about what she has been doing in his absence. Simon looks from her to John and remembers how the captain stayed in his office until late at night, endlessly filling out some forms a couple of years ago. Ghost thought it had to do with work, but when he once offered to help Price with this paperwork, John refused with strange zeal. And now Ghost sees, what was it all about. And it all was hella worth it: she was the nicest, most well-behaved and happiest kid, Simon seen in a while.

When they finished their dinner, the girl grinned conspiratorially. "Hey John! Guess what." And before Price could even react, she burst out impatiently and with ill-concealed delight: "I made your favorite dessert!"

"You? Or was it Aunt Meg?" John smirks and Simon realizes he's never seen the captain so happy before. "No, it's definitely me this time! She was just… looking out!"

Price walks into the kitchen and an awkward silence spreads across the living room. Although it seems that only Simon feels awkward - the girl stares at his tattoos with the most sincere interest. "Ehm, so you... love animals?" Ghost squints at the toy tiger cub. The girl smiles broadly and nods, never taking her eyes off Simon's arms. "Do you maybe… want to be a veterinarian when you grow up?" Simon continues this awkward conversation. "No!" She looks up at him and continues loudly, "When I grow up - I want to be a soldier like John!" The shrill sound of spoons and forks scattering across the floor comes from the kitchen.

“Soldier… I thought, kids in her age were supposed to want to become… I don't know, pop stars? Princesses? Figure skaters?” rants Price later that evening, when the girl is already sleeping and he and Simon are standing on a backyard.

“She doesn't want to become any soldier. She wants to be 'a soldier like John'. You are her hero, Captain.” Simon chuckles, masking the fact, that he envies Price a bit. The undisguised delight with which the girl looks at John, her admiration for even the simplest, most trivial of his stories… No money could buy that.

Ghost visited Prices house throughout several next years, and every time he gradually became more comfortable around the girl. In some time, they could hang out together without any awkwardness. She brought her homework down to the big table in a living room and asked Simon to tell her stories about his work with John. Of course Simon tried not to mention anything too disturbing, but it was difficult, and the stories came out short and inconsistent. But she still thrived on them. “Seems like you are quite good at what you do!” She sounds almost as exited as when she talks to John. “Quite good? Lieutenant Ghost is the legend, kid,” comments Price, entering the room. Little do John and Simon know, this was the exact moment, that predetermined the girl's life for years to come. Now she had not just one, but two heroes and a dream: to become like them.

A few years later, which flew by for Simon like a few days, he and John were already present at her oath. Of the two, Ghost, who kept aloof from the others, seemed the calmer. John seemed to be worried about everything: because his daughter was one of the shortest in her formation, because of the bad weather and the fact that she was about to get wet, because of the form "which was of much better quality back in his time" ... But when she got out of line, when she began to recite the text of the oath, Simon shuddered inwardly. Price's daughter, this little dear miracle, who had been running around the house what seemed like just yesterday in funny pajamas, was reciting the oath... Ghost couldn't believe it.

And when she, with burning eyes and a happy blush on her face, ran up to them and saluted with the words "Captain, Lieutenant", Simon felt his eyes tingle. He left her alone with John so that they could share this very special moment. But a few minutes later he heard her hurried steps and she lightly squeezed his arm in a short friendly hug. "Starting your service with insubordination?" Simon scolded her, but in fact it was one of the brightest, happiest moments of his life. He never thought that someone else's adopted child could become so important to him.

Johnny

“Let go!” The fabric of Soaps T-shirt was stretched, and the seams began to crackle dangerously, ready to burst. "Johnny, cut it out!" - your voice echoed between the gray walls of the neighboring buildings of your base. You tried to work things out quietly, but with Soap, that's impossible. If he decides something, it's as good as done.

You try to hold him by force, but it's not so easy: to a greater extent, it's not your hands that clutched at his T-shirt that stop him, but the risk of ruining that T-shirt forever.

"Hey Soap! The hell is going on here?" Price's voice sounds so close that both you and Johnny flinch and turn around at the same time. "She's holding me by force! And you still ask me what happened?" Soap sounds fierce, but his posture shifts, and he unconsciously shields you from Price, who is looking from him to you.

"Sorry, Captain. It's all right, the Sergeant and I were just joking." You answer, turning away from Price. But nothing ever escapes John. He walks around Soap, catches up with you and looks into your eyes. "You've been crying." It's not even a question, it's a statement. Price sees your reddened eyes, swollen eyelids. He also knows that you almost never cry. You want to be a good soldier so much, you look up to him and Ghost, you never let your emotions get the better of you. But if something brings you to tears... Something or someone... It's really bad.

“Gonna ask it once…” Prices eyes pierce right through the mask of dumb jolliness, you desperately try to put on. “What happened?” You try to come with anything, but your best shot just sounds pathetic “It's just an allergy, Captain…”

“Allergy my ass…” - Price walks around you and comes back to Soap. “Ok, Sergeant, let's see if you have anything better for me… Same question, I'm waiting.”

You look at Soap with a mute pleading, but he does not notice this, his eyes are riveted to Price. “She was dumped today. I wanted to find the bastard and have a word with him.” Soaps voice is still harsh from your fight. You shut your eyes and let go of his T-shirt at last. Price slowly exhales. You know that sound. A quiet long exhalation, a harbinger of a storm. “Who?” - Johns` voice sounds cold and distant.

“Your guess is as good as mine. She doesn't tell, so I was heading to the barracks to find out myself.” Soap finally looks at you, his gaze is absolutely fierce, as if rejecting you was some kind of personal insult to him.

Price turns around to you once more. One word is enough for him to express both a question and an ominous threat. “Name.” You shake your head, not daring to look up at him.

John clearly doesn't want so sound menacing to you. And if Soap wasn't around, Price would already wrap you in a tight embrace to hide you from your own pain. But the fact, that someone dared to hurt, to reject you, his little treasure (and it doesn't matter, that the last night you turned 22), makes his blood boil with rage. Of course, he is overprotective as your father, but he believes, it's you, who deserves to choose partners, and they just have to be eternally happy and grateful for your attention. You understand, that your problems have just doubled up… Now both Soap and Price are waiting for you to drop the name, and every next moment of silence seems to only make it worse.

“I need the name, kid. Now, there won't be any fights, we'll just talk. Nice and calmly… And if that bloody moron just happens to slip and fall on the Sergeant's fist - I may not notice …” your Captains` voice was quiet, menacingly quiet. Johnny didn't look any friendlier, his posture was tense and his eyes - furious. You bite your tongue, afraid to say a word. “As you wish. Off to the barracks we head then,” commands Price, and they walk past you.

In a fit of desperation, you take off and rush after them. "Wait! There's no need to 'talk' to anyone, please... It was Sarah... from the office."

They both stop in their tracks and look at each other. This... changed a lot. Of course, they still care about you and want to help, but now, obviously, they will have to reconsider their plans. Soap looks completely lost, Price checks time and rises his gaze back at you.

"In two hours, both of you. My office." Johns` voice is echoing in your head as they both leave you alone. It's hard to even roughly imagine what awaits you and why John also needed Soap. Perhaps the Captain just wanted to lecture you about relationships at work, and so he invited Johnny, who had several... similar experiences.

But when you and Soap meet on the threshold of Price's office at the appointed time, the captain silently nods to his desk with three empty glasses and a flask. The rest of the evening, these two vied with each other to tell you about different failures in their personal lives. At first you feel awkward, but gradually you relax. Some stories make you sigh sadly, others are so funny that you almost choke with laughter. Little by little, you're feeling less pain from being dumped. Yes, maybe you didn't get someone, you wanted, but you have John and Johnny, who are not embarrassed to tell you the most silly and sad personal stories, just to make you feel less alone even in such a situation.

When you leave Price's office, both you and Johnny's faces are flushed with constant laughter. He puts his hand on your shoulder and says: “Hey, don`ya spend y`tears on that dafty, ok? She lost more than you today! We'll find you a nice lass or lad, that papa Price approves of!” You almost fall over in surprise. Nobody but Ghost knew that Price had ever adopted you. Here at the military base, you and Price were just colleagues.

"What, you think m`blind?" Soap stops and stares at you. "The captain takes care of everyone in his own way, but arranging something like this... The last time, I was in a similar situation - the man just filled me up with paperwork so that I had no energy left for anything else." When he puts it that way, it darts to be obvious to you too: you may kept your secrets, but the way you and Price cared for each other was sometimes on the surface. “Johnny… I don't know, how to put it right, but we really try to keep it…”

“Keep just to yourselves? Dinae worry, I get it.” He smirks. “Price is protecting you and so will I from now on. So, ma mouths shut.”

And Johnny keeps his word: he never mentions how you are related to Price, never publicly reminisces about that evening at Captains office. And he also starts a whole operation to find and select the perfect candidate for you, but that's a whole another story.

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madewithangst · 5 months

Text

Guilty as sin? [SVT Dino x Reader]

Welcome to the first part of the TTPD x SVT series! Introducing you to our adorable maknae, who has been the biggest inspiration for me to create and finish a story this week. This song is dedicated to all the dreamers, the fangirls, and those seeking to be treated right. Enjoy!

PAIRING: idol!chan x gn!reader GENRE: angst (too much delusional) WARNINGS: mentions of food and drinks, suggestive, reader has a boyfriend, a few curse words WORD COUNT: 3.8k

Series Masterlist | Next

"𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞"

It wasn't supposed to end like this. This journey was supposed to be a brief interlude in the grand scheme of things. Yet, here you are. In this reality. In this present.

You were running late that day.

Well, at least that's how you look at it. You prided yourself on never making anyone wait—a firm believer that punctuality was a virtue you held dear, never wanting to inconvenience others. Everything you needed was already prepared and waiting by the door. As you waited for your ride, you have your best friend on the phone.

"And then how's the boyfriend?"

"He's great."

"You're still seeing him," he remarked, more to himself than to you. You found it unusual to hear his tone lacking the usual enthusiasm as you were more accustomed to his cheerful demeanour.

"It's not that easy, Cheol."

"Fine, we'll talk when you get here. By the way, I know you're not good with strangers, but is it alright if I ask one of my members to pick you up instead? I'm out of the way, and he'll pass by your apartment on the way. It's alright if you don't want to, though."

Do I have a choice? you wanted to retort, but you knew Seungcheol too well. He was the kind of person who wouldn't even let you open the door for yourself; he was just that thoughtful.

"Is he nice?"

"Very much, unlike that dick you're dating. He's the baby in our group!" You ignored his not so subtle insult he just threw about your boyfriend. You sense a hint of pride visible in his voice. So you tried to tease lightly to lighten the mood, "So, a superstar's gonna drive me?"

"Hey, why don't you say that when I'm the one driving you?"

"Fine. I trust your judgment. Just, tell him I'm super awkward, alright?"

"Don't worry. He's pretty good with people. I'll tell him not to be weird."

"𝐈 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧' 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬

𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧' 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬

𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧' 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐱"

"Hi, I'm Lee Chan!"

You went to step out on the porch a full 30 minutes earlier than planned, determined not to keep your ride waiting. The early morning air was crisp, and the faint glow of dawn was just beginning to lighten the sky. Just as you took the first step down the porch stairs, a car pulled into your driveway, surprising you.

You quickly gathered all your things. Lee Chan greeted you with a friendly smile, and you returned the gesture with a bow before carefully getting into the passenger seat. "Good morning, hi! I'm so sorry. I really hope I'm not bothering you."

"Not really, it's fine. I'm going to pass by your apartment anyway."

"Cheol insists and I couldn't say no," you explained, feeling immense gratitude for his understanding. His tone was light and easygoing, which calmed you a bit.

"Well, it's Cheollie. It's fine, really!" he laughed, clearly trying to ease any tension, which seemed to work. "It's okay if you want to stay silent, alright? I'll just turn on the radio. I hope you don't mind."

"Oh no, I don't. It's your car."

During the drive, the boy made light small talk, about the weather, your impression of South Korea so far, and how you and Seungcheol knew each other, "We go way back, like elementary school levels," you shared, smiling at the memories. "I appreciate how he hasn't forgotten his roots, even after all the achievements he's had." You also mentioned that you were a sound engineer.

His friendly demeanour and natural charm made the journey feel shorter than it was. You found yourself laughing at his jokes and stories, enjoying the unexpected company.

You had arrived at the studio without realizing it.

"Hey Chan, thank you so much for this. I owe you," you expressed your gratitude as you both got out of the car, very appreciative of his kindness.

"Don't mention it!" he replied with a smile, waving goodbye as you went your separate ways.

You met Seungcheol in the cafeteria to grab breakfast and catch up before proceeding with the recording. As you watched from the control room, you were overjoyed with all the gadgets and equipment, finding it a little funny and impressive how all thirteen boys managed to record so quickly, considering they only got 1-2 lines per song.

The atmosphere in the studio was lively, and you couldn't help but feel excited to be a part of it all.

The recording process stretched on for a week, followed by several more weeks for mastering. During this time, you had the opportunity to build a rapport with the staff, particularly with Jihoon, whose dedication and talent in producing the songs left you in awe each day.

You also had the chance to meet the other members, but your interactions were quite limited due to their celebrity status. They were always surrounded by tight security, even within the studio premises, unless Seungcheol came to check in on you. One time, while you were helping out the audio department, Seungcheol checked on you along with Chan.

"What are you even doing here? You don't even care about me," Jihoon playfully chided, nudging Chan away as he reached for the audio mixer's controls.

"It's because I'm not here for you, loser! I'm checking in on YN!" They were playfully pushing each other, almost like kids playing, which you were grateful for, or else they would've seen how red you turned.

Jihoon settled back into his big ass producer chair, a big grin on his face and you couldn't help but feel that he needed that short break; he had been working nonstop the whole day, glued to that chair. "What a friend you are, Chan."

"Hi Y/N! How are you?" Chan greeted warmly with his signature charm, his smile infectious.

"Chan, hey. I'm good. Actually just being amazed every day by Jihoon," you tried to express your admiration for his talent. The two boys joined in, showering Jihoon with compliments, and you could see the blush on his face, a clear sign of the love and appreciation he received from everyone. You thought he was humble.

As you and Chan caught up, you couldn't help but notice the genuine kindness and warmth in Chan's demeanor.

This led you to look at him in a way you knew you shouldn't, feeling a fleeting moment of attraction that left you momentarily conflicted, your thoughts briefly drifting to your boyfriend. Your mind wandered, 'When will my own boyfriend ask me how I am?'

Scoups announced they had to leave.

"Ji, take care of Y/N," they bid their goodbyes and exchanged hugs. Chan surprised you by pulling you into a hug as well. As you felt his embrace, you couldn't shake the feeling of longing that lingered after he left, a stark contrast to the fleeting thought of your boyfriend.

"𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧' 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐛𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐧?"

When the mastering was completed, a company party was held to celebrate the accomplishments, but it was exclusive to all creatives responsible for the producing and mastering. You were fortunate enough to be friends with Seungcheol and had also won Jihoon's friendship along the process, so you received an invite.

At the party, you mingled with many of the creatives, expanding your network and soaking in the knowledge and experiences of seasoned professionals. You found yourself inspired by their stories and insights, feeling more motivated than ever to pursue your own career in the industry.

As the night went on, you couldn't help but reflect on how far you had come since starting your journey. A beautiful warm feeling in your heart as you look at all the opportunities you had received and excited for what the future held.

The party had a semi-formal dress code, so you opted for smart slacks to ensure comfort throughout the evening.

As your social battery began to drain, you found a moment to sit down at a round table. A waiter promptly served your food, and shortly after, Chan approached and asked, "Is this seat taken?"

"No, go ahead, sit."

True to form, Chan's presence was comforting, and any hint of your earlier drained battery seemed to vanish as if Chan had electrified you with energy.

You both shared laughs, with Chan mostly cracking jokes and pointing out random people, sharing funny anecdotes about them. You found this particularly amusing as you had met and knew half of them from the mastering process.

"Have you tried their cocktail yet? It's so good!"

"Oh, and don't forget to apply Vaseline to your lips every night."

"Moisturizer! Every time I finish shaving."

He was just an ordinary guy, chatting with you about the most everyday things. That's what you liked about Chan—there was never a dull moment when he was around. You were starting to get used to his presence, finding comfort in his company.

Seungcheol and Jeonghan took seats in front of you. "Is this guy bothering you, Y/N?" Seungcheol asked jokingly.

"Why would you even say that?" the boy beside you just whined like a baby. You laughed and carried on with your conversation, enjoying the lively atmosphere of the party.

After a few drinks, the both of you were now eating pasta. Chan took a bite from your plate, and a piece fell on your thigh. "Shit, I'm sorry," he exclaimed.

You both burst into hysterical laughter at the randomness of the situation. Chan quickly took the piece off, whilst you're relieved that you were wearing pants. A faint stain was left, "Hey, it looks like a cursive 'M.'"

As Chan's finger traced the cursive "M" on your thigh, you couldn't help but feel a rush of emotions. His touch, so gentle yet electrifying, sent a shiver down your spine, and a warm sensation spread through your body. His smile was innocent, but the effect it had on you was intense. You were acutely aware of the world around you seemingly stopping, leaving just the two of you trapped in a bubble with his burning touch.

You locked eyes with Chan, and for a moment, you couldn't help but notice how close he was. His presence was comforting yet exhilarating, and you found yourself leaning slightly into his touch, wanting more but also hesitant to show it. You were lost in the moment, caught between the warmth of his touch and the realization that this was a line you shouldn't cross.

Eventually, the spell was broken as Soonyoung approached to whisk Chan away for another one of their antics. As Chan withdrew his hand, the spell seemed to break, and you became aware of the bustling party around you once again. You could feel your cheeks flush with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement, and you quickly looked away to try to compose yourself.

He excused himself and as you watched them go, you couldn't shake the feeling of being caught in a surreal moment, wondering what it all meant and where it might lead.

In front of you, you felt a burning gaze. "What?"

"Can I talk to you?" Seungcheol asked, his tone serious as he gestured towards an empty hallway.

"𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 "𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞" 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝?"

"Chan, really? Of all the boys, you chose Chan?"

"What are you talking about?" You tried to keep your voice low, but you already had a feeling of where this conversation was going.

"You know, I wouldn't mind it because you're seeing a jerk and I want you to be happy. But Chan? It's Chan who you fell for?" Seungcheol's tone was a mix of confusion and concern.

"Can you please lower your voice? People might hear you!" Y/N whispered urgently, glancing around to make sure they weren't drawing attention.

"You—" Seungcheol paused, catching himself before saying something he might regret. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts.

When he finally regained his composure, he looked at you, silently urging you to continue. He's never given this look at you before so you just looked down in fear, "how did you know?"

"Uhm, the way you looked?" You met his gaze, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over you. "Sorry, but it wasn't that subtle, just in case you don't know." You groaned, feeling like your secret was suddenly out in the open when it was supposed to be locked up in a tiny vault, never to be opened.

"Damn it. It was your fault!"

"Mine?!" As the ever-good leader of Seventeen group, Seungcheol was obviously taken aback by this accusation.

"You introduced him to me!" You tried pointing out, but even you weren't convinced by it. You just fell, and you fell hard.

"Oh my god, you've been crushing on him since that day?" The man in front of you looked so pale like a ghost.

"What's so bad about Chan? I get that I'm seeing someone right now, but it's not like something will blossom from this. I'm coming home in a few days anyway," you defended.

"I don't know. It's just weird. He's like a little brother," Seungcheol explained, trying to make sense of his feelings.

"I hate to break it to you, Cheol, but he's an adult and he's not your kid."

Their conversation was cut short when they heard the boys running down the hallway, their voices loud and boisterous.

"Cheollie!" Mingyu called out, followed by Soonyoung and Chan, their voices filled the empty hallway like a bunch of kids running around.

"See what I mean?" You actually found the situation funny, you got his look understanding exactly what he was referring to.

"Hey, is it alright if I bail early? I suddenly don't feel well," you asked, your expression turning slightly uneasy.

"I'll tell my driv--" Seungcheol was interrupted by Mingyu crashing into him and hiding behind his back.

"Cheollie, look at these two!" Mingyu exclaimed, attempting but failing to hide himself.

"I swear to god if you three don't behave yourselves! We're at a company event, not in a GOSE episode," Seungcheol scolded. You felt like he had been through so much that night already—dealing with you and Chan, and then managing the antics of the other boys too.

He then turned to you, "Just tell my driver to come back right after. This party doesn't seem like it's ending soon."

"Huh? You're leaving already, Y/N?" Chan asked disappointment was evident in his tone, but you didn't dwell on it too much.

"Yeah, I don't really drink much, so I got a little light-headed with the drinks we had."

"Oh, I didn't even feel a kick," he boasted.

"Of course, frat boy, it's you," Soonyoung teased him. You don't know why boys do that but they seem to always slap some shit out of their friends when they're all teasing.

"Oy! I'm not a drunk!"

"Yeah, right," Mingyu joined.

"Well, good night, everyone!" you bid your farewell and started to make your way back inside.

"Can I walk you, at least?" Chan offered, looking genuinely concerned.

You exchanged a glance with the eldest, "Oh, it's fine. I'm good. Thank you for the offer, though," you tried to sound politely as you can, feeling a mix of relief and uncertainty about your decision.

"Alright, well have a good night, Y/N," Chan said warmly, bidding you goodbye as the others chimed in to greet too.

You turned to leave the party coming home with a pang of regret, wondering if you should have accepted Chan's offer after all.

Returning to your apartment, the weight of disappointment that usually accompanied your boyfriend's predictable good morning text was conspicuously absent. Instead, there was a curious sense of relief, as if a burden had been lifted from your shoulders.

As you settled in, the memory of Chan lingered, his presence more vivid than ever. You couldn't shake the feeling of warmth that had enveloped you in his company, a stark contrast to the mundane routine of your current relationship.

The night replayed in your mind like a movie. You remembered the way Chan's eyes lit up when he talked about his passions, the genuine interest he showed in your own stories, and the way he made you feel seen and understood in a way your boyfriend never had. The laughter, the camaraderie, the easy banter with Chan—all of it felt more real and vibrant than anything you had experienced in a long time.

You remember the way his finger drew burns on your skin.

You couldn't help but compare the excitement and genuine connection you felt with Chan to the monotony and predictability of your relationship with your boyfriend. His single text message, a mere formality, now seemed like a stark reminder of what was lacking in your current situation.

Despite the late hour and the day's activities leaving you tired, sleep eluded you as you lay in bed, your thoughts consumed by Chan. You found yourself wondering about what could've been.

You hadn't returned to the studio since the party, as you weren't needed there anyway.

"Cheol, I'm coming home early," you decided, thinking it would be best to leave before your feelings grew unrequited.

"I thought you still had a few more days?" even through a phone call, his surprised voice is pretty evident.

"Yeah, I thought I'd start early, you know? Got a lot to prepare."

"Alright, well, this is so sudden. I planned on hanging out before you leave but, if that's what you want, sure. Do you already have your plane ticket?" he inquired.

"Yup. Find someone else to spoil, not me. You've already spoiled me enough with this part-time opportunity!" you joked. "I can't thank you enough."

"What can I say? I'm the best."

"You actually are," you admitted sincerely, feeling a warmth in your chest from the precious relationship you have with your best friend.

"Well, when will I see you again?" he asked, even if you haven't left yet, you can already hear the longing in his voice.

In school reunions?" you joke to try to lighten the mood.

"Ha-ha."

"I'm just a phone call away, Cheol," you reassured him, hoping to offer some comfort. The bond you shared was strong, and you knew that no matter the distance, your friendship would endure.

With that, you flew away from South Korea without looking back. However, your thoughts couldn't seem to leave that place.

"𝐌𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐳𝐞

𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞

𝐁𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧' 𝐮𝐩 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧' 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞"

"Hi, baby. Look, I know you must be upset, but please hear me out."

You stood at the airport, the cold, sterile surroundings matching the numbness in your heart.

It's now almost an hour.

Each minute stretching like an eternity, as you waited for your ride home. This situation was all too familiar, a painful routine of either waiting for him or picking him up.

"I'll just call you a taxi, alright? And then, I'm gonna treat you to a nice dinner. Sounds good?"

Dinner was indeed nice, except for the part where he brought his whole group of friends. As much as you wanted to catch up with your boyfriend, the whole time you just wanted to lie down in bed, too jet-lagged from all the traveling that day.

Physically, you were there, but mentally, you were still in the studio. You were still at that party. You were still with Chan.

You felt a hand on your thigh, a gesture meant to reassure, but it only served to highlight the growing distance between you. His touch felt foreign, a stark contrast to the intimacy it once held.

It felt like he was encroaching on your space. Despite the happiness of being home and the prospect of spending more time together, every interaction felt jarring, out of sync.

Each kiss felt like poison, leaving a bitter taste on your lips. Every hug seemed to suffocate, the embrace too tight, too restricting. Every touch sent shivers down your spine, but not the kind that thrilled. They felt cold, devoid of the warmth you once knew.

And with every climax, you found yourself calling out a different name in your head, a silent plea for something more, something real.

"𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲"

The day rushed past as the first music video from the album was completed. You had the exclusive opportunity to view it before its public release. Seungcheol even asked for your genuine review and your reaction was beyond words. Your involvement in its production gave you a unique perspective, witnessing the meticulous effort and creative genius behind every scene.

Seeing the boys perform with such passion and talent warmed your heart. Especially seeing him. As a member of the performance team, his dancing prowess was expected, but witnessing it live was awe-inspiring.

A tear escaped, tracing a path down your cheek, a mix of pride and a deep yearning for Seungcheol's advice. While you could end your relationship now, it wasn't that simple. Your career was your priority, and you craved stability, something you doubted Chan could provide as a pop star. While you longed for adventure, what you truly needed was a sense of security and stability in your life.

You yearn for the way Chan makes you feel when you're with him. His presence is like a burst of energy, always leaving you electrified and invigorated. It's a stark contrast to the dynamics of what you actually have now in a relationship.

Seungcheol did mention Chan asking how you've been doing and all that. This made you realize that you needed to distance yourself. Choosing not to entertain thoughts of Chan any longer seemed like the only sensible solution. After all, as a pop star, entertaining others was part of his nature, and you didn't want to be just another audience member in his life, they were programmed to do just that, even for you.

It wasn't supposed to end like this. This journey was supposed to be a brief interlude in the grand scheme of things. Yet, here you are. In this reality. In this present.

But in another life, you would choose you and him religiously.

PSA: This is a work of pure fiction. Any names, events, times, or places mentioned are purely for entertainment and are entirely fictional (well, except for the names of the members).

© All copyrights for the title, lyrics, and concept of this work belong to Taylor Swift. The plot and dialogue of the story are entirely original and created by me, unless explicitly stated otherwise. Unauthorized use, reproduction, or distribution of this work may result in legal action.

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x-aefx · 1 year

Text

ONE TIME THING - BELLA RAMSEY

Pictures above are not mine

Summary: unbeknownst to you, you meet actor Bella Ramsey. You two hit it off but your paths lead two different directions.

Bella Ramsey x female reader

Warnings: none

Taglist:

Authors note: I don't know how accurate it is for bella to take a bus or the bus being completely full, however for this story, it is entirely accurate.

I use they/her pronouns for Bella.

"I really have to go" your voice sounded desperate now. You were desperate. Your bus would be here any moment now, currently it was three minutes late, you had been on call with your friend, Aaron for 45 minutes, you were sure 15 of those minutes was spent on you trying to end the call. Your phone was sweaty in your hand from your hold and you had messages you needed to open as you had been ignoring them for the better part of the day. You hated texting, mostly because it made you overthink everything you wouldn't overthink in a real life in person conversation.

"alright alright just bring me back something from work" came Aarons voice from the phone. You rolled your eyes, he asked the same thing every day you were working.

"no promise love you by!" You spoke quickly into the phone as you seen your bus approach. Putting the device into your jean pocket you moved closer to the edge of the footpath.

You greeted the driver with a small smile and a 'how are you' as to not seem rude. Once your ticket was verified you made your way down the bus isle in search of a seat. Every. single. one. being occupied.

You furrowed your brows, surely there would be one seat available.

As if the man in the sky heard you, your prayers were answered by the sound of a voice coming from your right.

"hey, you can have this seat"

Turning you faced the source of the voice. You smiled in gratitude as you sat beside the mystery person.

"thanks, I was beginning to think I'd have to stand or sit on someones lap the entire journey." You really were relieved, none of those options sounded appealing.

"It's nothing." The stranger waved your words off.

They sounded nice, you thought, mid-length brunette hair that was slightly wavy under a cap, clear skin that had a glow, they were definitely attractive.

The sound of a notification broke your train of thought. Pulling your phone out of your pocket you turned it on. To no surprise the most recent message was from Aaron.

You didn't bother to reply. You, for some reason, always did bring him back something. He knew that. The little shit.

Sighing you leaned back in your seat. Your mum had been texting you non stop asking about college, if you had finally met someone and when you'll be visiting. You loved her, but she could be somewhat overbearing. You had visited her over a week ago but clearly that was years ago in her world.

Your friend, Annita had also left a dozen messages. One that caught your attention was about how the train she was on was completely full (much like the bus you were currently on) and how her work place wasn't any better.

Glancing ahead of you, you could see people standing in large crowds from the windows. You frowned, what was happening today? A concert? Surely not. You loved music and concerts even more, you would know if one was on.

Taking a glance at the person beside you (who was occupied by their phone) you decided to pluck up the courage to ask them.

"excuse me, do you know why there's so many people crowding around on the street? Is there something important going on?"

Secretly you were wishing there wasn't something too important going on, you didn't want to seem dumb for not knowing.

"the president of the US is visiting. He's giving out free food." The stranger said with a straight face and serious voice.

"no fucking way!" Your eyes were wide and your mouth hung open.

"nah I'm just messing with you. There's a football match on." Their serious face was gone, replaced with a wide smile. Her tone had humour and happiness in it. You were impressed with their acting skills.

"not funny, I believed you! Can you imagine I go around asking people when the president is arriving? I'd be laughed out of the country!"

You wanted to seem mad, but you ended up joining in with their laughter.

"sorry, I don't actually know why I said that." They apologized but began giggling again the more they looked at you and remembered your shocked expression.

"yeah yeah fuck you." You muttered. You looked up when you heard them laugh again. You didn't think they heard it, but you were glad they weren't offended.

Your eyes moved down to her hands. Each finger adorned with thick silver rings. "I like them. Your rings I mean." You didn't realize what you were saying until the words left your mouth.

The stranger looked down at her hands, she held them up slightly to give you a better view.

"thank you. I always like to have something to fiddle with. Especially with being around people constantly" Looking at her you could tell she seemed genuinely happy about being complimented over her rings.

You hummed in agreement.

"I take it your not going to the match?" They questioned.

"and why do you think that?" You responded.

"you didn't know there was one on." She quirked a brow and spoke as if it were the most obvious thing in the world (it was)

"well maybe I decided to go because the charming stranger on the bus changed my mind." You teased.

"I think the charming stranger should be very flattered. Persuading the pretty girl on the bus to go to the match is no easy task." They teased you back.

God.

Why did they have to look at you like that?

Why did they have to engage in conversation?

Why did you talk to them in the first place?

You prayed silently in your mind your face wasn't as red as it felt.

"and do they have a name? Or do they go by 'the charming stranger'?"

They smiled at you. You felt your heart do a back flip.

"I'm Bella." Straightening up in their seat, they held out their hand for you to shake in an attempt at coming across as professional. It would've worked if not for the way the side of her lips quirked as they tried to conceal their laughter.

Copying Bella, you turned slightly in your seat as you shook their hand.

"hello bella, I'm y/n." You smiled.

"so is it decided? Have you been persuaded to go to the match."

You frowned slightly, "unfortunately I have work." You smiled at bella apologetically.

Bella tried to hide their disappointment. She barely knew this girl, why was she getting so upset?

"where do you work?" Bella decided it would be better to change the subject.

"in Burr & co café. On Bernard Street. It's just a summer job until I go back to college." You explained.

"I'll be sure to stop by." Bella promised.

"the hot chocolate is particularly good." You winked. "Anyways, what about you? Are you in college or do you work?"

Bella was hesitant to tell you about her real job. She enjoyed talking to you and it came easy. She didn't want to ruin it.

"I study environmental science." Not a complete lie.

You were about to say something but was interrupted by multiple notifications coming from your phone. You cringed, bella only smiled, a silent gesture to say they didn't mind if you checked your phone.

You shouldn't have been surprised when the notification on the screen were messages from Aaron. Leave it to him to ruin the conversation you were having with probably the coolest person you have ever met, without him even knowing it. Quickly you opened the message.

You rolled your eyes but secretly you were excited to watch game of thrones. All your other friends had watched it except you and Aaron, so you both thought it would be fitting to watch it together.

"sorry about that. My friend invited me to his to watch game of thrones tonight. Nothing important."

Something flashed in Bella's eyes.

"really? Is it your first time watching it?"

"yep. Have you watched it?" You asked.

"I've seen bits of it. Can't say I've watched the whole thing. Are you enjoying it?"

"well it's been really good so far." You answered truthfully. "tonight we're starting season 6."

Bella's eyes widened slightly, they're lips parted and then closed once she was brought back to reality."well I-uh hope you enjoy it."

You frowned slightly at the way she was acting but eventually decided to ignore it.

"from what I've heard it's supposed to be good." You spoke, the bus was almost at your stop.

It would be a lie to say you weren't slightly disappointed that yours and Bella's conversation was quickly coming to an end. You had momentarily forgotten you were even on the bus talking with a complete stranger, you told her where you worked and everything!

Shaking your head from your thoughts you smiled at Bella.

"well I'm getting off now. It was nice talking to you, stranger. I presume your going to the match?"

Bella's smile faded slightly at the mention of you getting off the bus.

"yeah I am. It was nice talking to you too, pretty girl."

You were sure you were blushing now, you were sure bella could see it too.

The bus stopped.

"enjoy the match!" You told her.

"enjoy game of thrones" bella winked at you and had a smug grin on her face, almost like they knew something you didn't.

You rolled your eyes and got off the bus and towards the café you worked at.

A/N :

I hope you enjoyed.

P.s for anyone confused, Bella first appears in Game of Thrones in season 6 (their first acting role)

Part two⬇️

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jaydaaasworld · 4 months

Text

Between the Laps

a/n never did an f1 fic before and this may not convey things properly

The sound of engines roaring filled the paddock as the Monaco Grand Prix was in full swing. The crowd's cheers echoed through the streets, their excitement palpable. Amidst the chaos and thrill of the race, the stories of Carlos Sainz Jr. and (Y/N) (L/N) intertwined in a blend of fluff and angst that transcended the boundaries of the track.

Chapter 1: A Chance Encounter

Carlos Sainz Jr. had always loved Monaco. The narrow streets, the glamorous yachts, and the undeniable challenge of the circuit made it his favorite. But this year, something felt different. As he walked through the paddock, he noticed (Y/N) (L/N), a new engineer on his team, standing by his car, staring intently at the data on her tablet.

(Y/N) was new to the team, and though they had exchanged pleasantries, Carlos felt a strange pull towards her. It was as if there was something more beneath the surface, something unspoken.

"Hey, (Y/N)," Carlos greeted, trying to sound casual.

(Y/N) looked up, her eyes meeting his with a warm smile. "Hi, Carlos. How's it going?"

"Good, good. Just thought I'd see how you're settling in."

(Y/N) nodded, her gaze returning to the tablet. "It's a bit overwhelming, but I'm getting there. Everyone's been really helpful."

Carlos smiled, sensing the hint of vulnerability in her voice. "If you ever need anything, or just want to talk, you know where to find me."

(Y/N) looked up again, her eyes filled with gratitude. "Thanks, Carlos. I appreciate it."

The paddock was a bustling place, filled with team members, journalists, and fans all mingling in the pre-race frenzy. Carlos found himself watching (Y/N) more than he intended to. She was efficient, focused, and seemed to have an innate understanding of the car's mechanics. He admired her dedication and passion for her work.

Days turned into weeks, and Carlos and (Y/N) found themselves crossing paths frequently. Their conversations grew longer, moving from work-related topics to personal stories. They discovered a mutual love for Spanish cuisine, a shared interest in hiking, and a surprising knack for late-night philosophical debates.

One evening, after a particularly grueling day at the track, Carlos and (Y/N) found themselves alone in the team garage. The sun had set, casting long shadows over the paddock. The sounds of the day had faded, leaving a peaceful silence in their wake.

Carlos leaned against his car, watching as (Y/N) meticulously checked the tire pressure. "You know, I've been meaning to ask you something," he said, breaking the silence.

(Y/N) looked up, curiosity in her eyes. "What is it?"

"Why engineering?" Carlos asked. "What drew you to this field?"

(Y/N) smiled, a distant look in her eyes. "When I was a kid, I used to take apart anything I could get my hands on—radios, clocks, even my dad's old car. I loved figuring out how things worked. My parents encouraged me to pursue my passion, and I ended up studying mechanical engineering. Formula One was a natural fit for me. The challenge, the speed, the precision—it all excites me."

Carlos nodded, impressed. "That's incredible. It takes a lot of dedication and passion to make it in this sport."

(Y/N) shrugged modestly. "I just love what I do. And being part of a team like this, working with people who share that passion—it's a dream come true."

Carlos's admiration for (Y/N) grew with each passing day. He found himself looking forward to their conversations, to the moments when they could steal away from the chaos of the track and just be themselves.

#aaron hotchner #greys anatomy #mark sloan imagine #aaron hotchner x female reader #f1 x reader #mark sloan #criminal minds #mark sloan x reader #greys anatomy x reader #instagram au #carlos sainz #formula 1 #formula one #f1 #f1 fanfic

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livsbrutalitys-blog · 7 months

Note

May I request Fem!Reader gets a makeover after joining the Judgement Day & Damian (who disapproved of her joining) is left awestruck.

Enemies to lovers?Damian priest x fem!reader

use of y/n :)

requests are open!!

As the loud music blared through the sold-out arena, the anticipation in the air was palpable. The audience, a mix of die-hard wrestling fans and curious onlookers, waited with bated breath for the newest addition to the infamous Judgement Day to make her grand entrance. Y/N, a female wrestler whose reputation for being fierce and fearless had preceded her, stepped out onto the ramp, her eyes scanning the crowd hungrily. She was about to embark on a journey that would change her life forever, joining forces with the enigmatic Damian Priest and the formidable Rhea Ripley. But little did she know that it was Damian himself who would have the most profound impact on her.

Dressed in a sleek, black bodysuit that hugged her curves and accentuated her athletic physique, Y/N's new look was a far cry from her previous attire. Her long, sleek hair cascaded down her back, framing her delicate features. As she strutted confidently toward the ring, the crowd erupted into a frenzy of cheers and chants. Even Damian Priest, who had initially been skeptical about her joining the group, couldn't help but feel a surge of respect for her.

The match began, and Y/N's skills were on full display. She moved with the agility of a panther, taking down her opponents with ease. Damian, watching from the sidelines, found himself increasingly impressed with her abilities. As the match progressed, he began to see past her new look and appreciate the raw talent that she brought to the ring.

After their victory, Damian approached Y/N backstage. "Look," he said, his voice gruff but sincere, "I want to apologize for how I acted earlier. You're a damn good wrestler, and I'm proud to have you in our family. You've got drive, and that's something we need more of." Y/N looked up at him, a mixture of surprise and gratitude in her eyes.

"Thank you, Damian," she said softly. "I've always admired your skills in the ring, and it means a lot to me that you're giving me a chance to learn from you." Damian nodded, feeling a strange warmth in his chest. He hadn't expected to feel this way about her, but there was something about Y/N that drew him in. Maybe it was her determination, or her willingness to push herself to be the best. Or maybe it was simply the fact that she looked damn good in that new outfit.

As they continued to talk, the tension between them began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of camaraderie. They exchanged stories about their wrestling careers, their hopes and dreams for the future. Damian found himself leaning in closer, hanging on to every word she said. And the more he listened, the more he realized that Y/N wasn't just another wrestler - she was someone he could truly respect and admire.

Meanwhile, Rhea Ripley watched them from a distance, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. She could see the connection forming between Damian and Y/N, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. After all, she had been the one to bring them together. As they continued to chat, the atmosphere in the room seemed to shift, becoming charged with an electricity that could only come from two people who shared a deep understanding of each other's passions.

#wwe raw #wwe smackdown #wwe x reader #wwe x y/n #angst #fanfic #writers on tumblr #writing #damian priest x reader #damian priest #wwe

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swallowprettybird · 5 months

Text

Hey! This question is from an anonymous..

Who inspires me?

Thank you for this question! I have so much to say 😍❤️

I have so many people's blogs that inspire me. Unfortunately, they won't all fit here, but there are so many wonderful people, know that you are wonderful! 🫶

Too many letters below in random order under the cut 👇

@bakersimmer inspired me so much with her story and legacy ❤️ I love her light and engaging writing and storytelling style ✍️

Saffron is just a cute little devil whom I love very much 😁 and Anselm.. keep your eyes peeled! ehhh my lovelies 😭❤️

Also, her style of screenshots and game seems to be my favorite on simblr ✨

@onestormeynight and Penny, Blair and Rosie life and them story, they're so so cute and warming my heart ☺️ I adore their story because it is full of family love and understanding, it is a wonderful portion of happiness every episode :з

@elderwisp your arts it's something magical!It inspires me a lot, I love this aesthetic, and it hits the heart 100%, your simstyle very fine and sm tasteful 🧡 and tesselate such a goooood story ohmhm my gosh so good 🤌

@youredreamingofroo i love your Roo universe hehe ❤️ I like to discover him every time learning details about his life and character, it seems as if he is another good friend of ours on Simblr 🤭 It's very inspiring to know own characters better too) And of course, I admire your renders, they are very beautiful and high quality!

@kuroashims and her beautiful blog dedicated to One Peece ❤️ 🧭 If you're like me and have never seen this anime, you'll want to know more about it after discover her page, and if you're a loyal fan, you'll love it even more! Her style is unique in its kind, you won't see anything like it in the sims. And the way she conveys emotions and feelings with just one picture without many words is just something beautiful. It is very inspiring. Elfy is also a wonderful person and a so kind warm friend. 🧝 Je t'aime, ma chère ☺️( btw your French vibe is very inspiring too 😍🤌 belle, incroyablement belle 💅🗼)

@changingplumbob and her amazing stories with amazing families. I love each of them. Kirsty plays the game with a huge and contagious passion. Each of her oc's is different and has its own story.

It's touch me and makes root for each character, through victories, mistakes, and life circumstances. She also has a great sense of humor! Her game sometimes throws up such funny situations! In general, Kirsty knows how to turn the usual gameplay into an exciting journey and I definitely recommend you to join. Also, I am very impressed with her playing style. And if I'm ever going to play a ts4 (as gameplay lmao), she'll definitely be the one to inspire me how.

@holocene-sims i love all about Grant and his life. This is such a vital and real, deep story. I love experiencing all the happy and poignant moments with him as well. His example teaches me not to give up and to live in spite of everything, and to be honest, the thought of this sometimes supported me in difficult moments.

I love talking with you about him and the family and about Junga, she's wonderful. 😇 I'm always looking forward to new episodes.

And Ana is my main inspiration for my main story. If you see a new episode of Cursed Chronicles, you should know that part of the gratitude lies with Ana. ❤️

@matchalovertrait and her beautiful lovely sunshine Noemi and her family ❤️ I will love them always 🥹 It seems to be the warmest, kindest and most loving legacy I know) I like to read it at least to recharge my batteries with this wonderful atmosphere and I immediately want to create something cute and wonderful ☺️

btw Dulce and Ángel has grown so charming!

@miralure your sims just incredible and i love your lookbooks ❤️🤌 You inspire me a lot to create and remade my sims and stand at the CAS like never before! looking forward to hearing new posts from you ☺️

@wistfulpoltergeist You have no idea how much I appreciate this person and his support from the very beginning of my blog❤️ Євгенку ну ти справжнє найсправжнє сонечко 🌞☺️🧡He is a real sunshine. And of course, I adore him both as a creator and a storyteller and as a dad/mom of two beautiful cats Aidan and Arvin 😁 this teo boys so lovely and hot 🤌🔥 і я сподіваюсь ще почути від тебе багато історій ☺️❤️

@aniraklova I think looking at her screenshots, you don't have to say anything, do you? This is an absolutely sky-high level of aesthetics 🤌💅 And I admired their work long before I started the blog, becouse all her cc and all art is something very very inspiring, she really inspired me to create some characters and recent cyberpictures :h Карі ти просто крейзі в найкращому значенні цього слова 😘🔥💋

@vermutandherring another wonderful creator who amazes me with her skill and beauty, It's just so gorgeous, this builds and scenes are incredible and everything I see there I dream of either seeing in my game or just admiring endlessly, so talented artist просто золоті руки 😍

@stellarfalls people who I may not follow much, but people who I consider my great inspirations, who make me want to move on, develop and improve my screenmake skills 🧡 at one time she impressed me a lot with her story&creations and I am still impressed, thank you friend ❤️

@aheathen-conceivably I've probably said it before, but you really do inspire me in a very real way, besides the fact that your dynasty is more than sims, it's a whole bunch and a storm of emotions, these are such real, well-developed characters, I almost cried a few times over some moments... for everyone who is not familiar with the dynasty of this wonderful author, I highly recommend you to read it) and besides, your work inspires me to write my own story too :з it really inspired me for some points of the sequel and thank you to your blog for that)

@circusjuney your style and story, are some of my favorites, and Ellie and Max are the ones I'm really rooting for and worried about ❤️ your blog is very inspiring to me in gґso many ways and makes me glad to be here on simblr ☺️✨🫶

@papermint-airplane I may not have known your blog for that long, but I get excited every time I read about Aiden and his friends again ❤️🫶 I really like your writing style, it's engaging, light and catchy, I love adventure, so it really inspires me to write. and I'd like to send you a special hug as a former fan of the TS3 hehe 🫂

I would also note @weirdosalike because I can't help but note that I am fascinated and obsessed by her story, which makes me just as passionate about creating something 😁

I almost forgot about @theosconfessions Scarlet is so gorgeous, you know what inspires me about your blog? your absolute passion for what you do!

.... oh okay i need a chapter 2 😣😖

There are many more authors whose work I am just getting to know, and I really like them ❤️ Sorry if I didn't mention you i love your blogs too 🥹🫶

#ask game

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louisupdates · 4 months

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[Translated from Portuguese]

Louis Tomlinson shows that he is much more than an ex-boyband

Text: Ygor Monroe May 12, 2024

British singer Louis Tomlinson, former member of the iconic band One Direction, landed in Brazil with his long-awaited "Faith In The Future World Tour", providing fans with a more mature experience on the stage of Allianz Parque, last night (11). In front of a fervent audience, the singer was acclaimed at every moment of the show, witnessing the support of his admirers.

In a moment of emotional introspection, Louis expressed his gratitude, emphasizing the lack of support in his solo journey "I don't have a radio. None of that. I don't have radio support. Look at this place! It's unbelievable. I made these albums specifically thinking about the live moments. But I've never anticipated places of this size. Listen to the FITF songs and feel your support in this huge place, I have no words. I'm trying to find them. Thank you, thank you, thank you," said the singer.

[Louis Tomlinson during a show at Allianz Parque in São Paulo | Photo: Move Concerts/Disclosure]

The "Faith In The Future World Tour" tour is one of the singer's most ambitious projects, and is part of the work explored on the album of the same name released in November 2022. Throughout the show, both the singer and his band demonstrated extreme mastery and resourcefulness, in addition to a very mature instrumental technique in relation to his last world tour.

The comparison between his previous visit to Brazil in 2022, and the recent show revealed a significant change in the composition of the audience, now more mature and aligned with the thematic depth of the singer's songs. Far from being just a teenage nostalgia, Louis now positions himself as an artist who challenges the limits of conventional pop, embracing an alternative aesthetic that manifested itself even in covers of renowned bands, such as Arctic Monkeys.

The grandeur of the show was amplified by the imposing stage structure, full of big screens and special effects, while the interactivity with the fans reached an emotional peak on the catwalk that extended as a second stage. The singer, with his usual shyness and charisma, did not hesitate to come down to hug some fans, sharing intimate moments and revealing the special connection he has with Brazil.

The show also featured the charismatic Europeans of the band Giant Rooks, from Hamm, Germany, founded in 2014. In 2019, they won the 1Live Krone Award and the Preis für Popkultur. Their debut album, "Rookery", was released on August 28, 2020. The band even did a show that left everyone impressed, and without a doubt it is one of the bands for the festivals of our circuit to keep an eye on.

In the final balance, our dear "ex-One Direction" no longer lives in the shadow of his past. Even respecting and reflecting a lot about him in his future, the singer has resourcefulness, maturity and mastery of everything he does on stage. With a more shy but charismatic tone, the "Faith In The Future World Tour" was a key change for the new era of the singer, which becomes more promising with each passing day.

Louis Tomlinson, FITFWT24: São Paulo [11.5.2024]

#fitfwt24: são paulo #louis tomlinson #11.5.2024 #louis press #Louis review

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kryscent · 2 months

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tsuki no hikari • teaser

pairing: opla!zoro x gn!reader

genre/warnings: slow burn, with multiple chapters, canon typical violence

a/n: i'm so excited to present this idea that's been swimming around for months since opla first came out, and its finally fleshing itself out. please bear with me as english isn't my first language. my taglist is open!

You’re considered a vigilante of sorts by the people living in the villages you protect and liberate; the name ‘Hikari’, said with their heartfelt gratitude and respect, was your only identifiable feature in their memory, aside from the painted kitsune mask covering your face. Utmost importance was given to the safety and wellbeing of the people you fight for – which meant fighting against bad pirates and bad Marines alike.

It was a given you left Shells Town immediately on hearing of the altercation, and your mind swims with possible reasons for the absence of life – perhaps they fled? Your questions are answered in part, your brows meeting as they furrow at the sight in front of you.

A red, white and blue striped circus tent, fitting to Buggy’s colour scheme, rose up in the centre of the debris, applause and hollering permeating the fabric to reach your ears. As you make your way to the tent, the air breaks to a dull thud, later followed by the sound of loud, running water (high pressure, through a pipe?), and you break into a run, skirting far around its circumference to enter without getting yourself killed by surely armed guards.

All sounds suddenly quiet, right as the wind flaps at the bottom of the tent. Lotto. You make your way to it, leaving your bag at the opening while muttering a prayer to the seas that no one will halt your entry. Crawling under, mask pushing to the side of your face in the midst of your efforts, you stop in your tracks as a man falls limply to the ground from an impressively built arm, strangulated. You quickly get to your feet as a pretty, orange-haired girl, who you assume was in the dangling cage that rocked back and forth behind her, cuts through the rope fastening his other arm with a kunai thrown by the serpent looking man at her feet. She pays you no mind, seeing as to how you haven’t said anything or attacked them yet, gathering her weapons from where they were stored away, and you catch sight of striking blue eyes in the mirror.

Your eyes meet the gaze of the man on the murder-pseudo-wheel of fortune, as he steps off and shakes out his shoulders, levelling you with a scrutinising stare, cocking a straight green brow, matching the cropped hair on his head, a set of three earrings glinting on his left ear. Handsome, you think, eyes darting over his face appraisingly. Warm but hardened chestnut eyes, full lips, broad shoulders and a honed figure. Blinking away the thought, you dart out to the arena stage, leaving the bemused pair behind.

taglist: @starlysama

kryscent '24

#my writing #kryscent #opla zoro x reader #opla x reader #zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #one piece x reader

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7grandmel · 5 months

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Todays rip: 19/04/2024

i love(d) you

Season 6 Featured on: SiIvaGunner's Highest Quality Rips: Volume FF Also on: Now That's What I Call Quality! 3

Ripped by vvsvlogs

youtube

Requested by oetaboy and an anonymous reader! @oetaboy (Ask Box)

I'm sure this rip's been a long time coming for many - I know it has for me. I've had i love(d) you sitting in my drafts as far back as in March, but truthfully it's...daunting, to write about. Requested by two readers. Close to 200 thousand views on YouTube, and recently featured prominently in popular Clone Hero YouTuber Acai's "The Quality of SiIvaGunner" series. And the rip itself being an emotional gutpunch in a season filled with them, from a ripper who's already gutpunched me plenty with Wham! Into Dreams and The Paragoomba and the Wiggler. vvsvlogs, Vivi, I ask this with the most sincere gratitude possible - why must you do this to me?

Minecraft as a game has its emotional hooks in at least two generations of people - that much I think we're all aware of. A sandbox filled with endless possibilities, community, friends, individual stories of survival or of great creative endeavors, all wrapped in C418's hauntingly beautiful score, one I've discussed many times before with Fell From a High Place (Reprise), M-O-O-G City and Every Mob Wants To Rule My World. All of these rips are beautiful, yet they're all aiming to play with Minecraft's sound in some way - the former two rips are arrangement of its music with other games' instrumentation, and the latter rip is a melodyswap playing Everybody Wants To Rule The World. They all play on my senses in their own ways, they're all rightfully impressive - but nothing hits quite the same as Minecraft's own music, on its own terms. i love(d) you isn't aiming to impress or amaze - but it lands a full-on critical hit on one's heart through leveraging everything that's kept Subwoofer Lullaby alive for so many years.

I've talked plenty about my musical illiteracy, and so I hope it doesn't come as a surprise that I've never really listened to world-renowed singer Billie Eilish. She's been on the radio, I've heard Bad Guy, but it was never a name I gave much more thought beyond seeing her discussed online from time to time. You can imagine the absolute awe I was in when I clicked on i love(d) you when it first went up, already expecting an emotional hit due to the Minecraft song used, only to get goosebumps from Eilish's vocals alone. i love you is the penultimate song from Eilish's debut studio album, the very same that Bad Guy was featured on - yet compared to that track's bass-heavy, almost seductive energy, i love you feels remarkably personal, with little more than an acoustic guitar and piano accompanying the openly emotional vocal performance. It's sincere in a way I don't hear enough music be, as if a diary translated into song, much the same emotion that Because I Love You conveyed yet with even greater magnitude due to the vocals in play.

i love(d) you, uploaded for 2022's valentines day, wields both of these forms of love - the connections many of us have to one of the most impactful games ever made, and the unfiltered emotion of i love you - to create something unabashedly beautiful. Mashups aren't a novel concept, mashups are nothing new - yet one glance at the comments tells me that I'm not alone in finding this rip in particular to have struck an incredibly sensitive nerve. Because there's a beauty to Minecraft that I think many of us oft forget about. It's a game that we all cherish, yet also one that's very easy to have left behind: we have adult responsibilities, we have school, we have other, shorter, more concise games, we have social media, we have friends, we have blogs...the solemn beauty of playing the game itself is, for many viewers like myself, not much more than a memory, something that can feel ever so difficult to recreate without feeling as if something's wrong.

We...I'm...not a kid anymore.

There was nothing about i love(d) you's concept that necessitated it to be more than just the mashup. There rip had no need for visuals that'd help convey the edit like with Plantasia 2 or Luna, mi Amor, no need to tickle the funnybone like with SUNGORE or the hundreds of other YTPMV rips on the channel. Yet, halfway through the rip, to the tune of Eilish's soothingly reverberating vocals, the background begins to change, not to a bit, not to a reference nor easter egg...but to Minecraft. To where all of this attachment began - to a far-off view of the game's beautiful landscapes as the sun begins to rises. That digital world that looks different for every player, yet the same in everyone's hearts - that place that, no matter how many years pass, how long its been since we last played, we all love. Its impact different to everyone, yet the feeling unanimous. It drives home how well the mashup works not just as a mixture of two deeply emotional songs, but as music tied to a shared experience: all of our Minecraft worlds looked different, all of our personal lives look different, but we've all played the game, and we've all had affection for it.

Every moment I spend thinking about this rip aches in some way. It's been well past two years since it was first uploaded, yet it continues to follow me as the years go on, my mouse drawn to it any time it reappears in my recommendations. In being featured on 2024's Now That's What I Call Quality! 3, I think the team holds much the same sentiment - even as the months pass, i love(d) you is the kind of rip that'll never fall out of favor, never stop meaning things to people. And realizing that it was made by vvsvlogs, the very same vvsvlogs who's already made me far too emotionally vulnerable on here twice before, has only made it mean that extra bit more to me.

I'm not a kid anymore. I know that. But I'll always be grateful to SiIvaGunner, the people behind it, and those who follow it along with me, for being able to bring me back to that state of mind when I least expect it.

Thank you.

#todays siivagunner #season 6 #siivagunner #siiva #vvsvlogs #rip visuals #minecraft #minecraft music #c418 #subwoofer lullaby #minecraft alpha #minecraft beta #minecraft art #mojang #mineblr #billie eilish #acoustic #when we all fall asleep where do we go #Youtube

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mytheoristavenue · 3 months

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If you fall under the following criteria, I don't want your support.

I don't know that I've shared this information explicitly on my blog in a while but here it is: I am a bisexual woman. I am also very outspoken on my beliefs regarding politics, though I try to keep that away from here.

My beliefs are this:

All trans people are people, regardless of where they are in their transition, or even if they never intend to fully transition at all.

Respect all pronouns, no matter how a person sounds, looks, or presents.

All sexualities are valid as long as they are not hurting another person unconsentually, or making a mockery of the community. All sexualities should be respected.

Bi/pan people who are not currently in a relationship with the same gender are valid and still bi/pan.

Abortion/birth control are vital forms of healthcare.

No form of racism will ever be justifyable. EVER.

No form of homophobia will ever be justifyable. EVER.

No form of transphobia will ever be justifyable. EVER.

I have noticed recently that I've gained many followers that are proudly outspoken against trans people and left leaning people as a whole and I'm not sure where I ever stated anything that could make those people gravititate towards me. I'd like to think that it's just becuase they enjoy my content and I haven't reminded my last thousand or so new followers how I feel on these issues. I want to beleive I haven't said anything that would give the impression that I don't support the ideals that I do. That being said, if I have, please call me out so I can explain myself.

I want to reiterate: I consider myself a feminist, but my love for women's growht, success, and power has never and will never be limited to women that were born as such. Nor will men born as women ever no longer have my full support when they transition. I'll put it in a way that's easily understandable.

TERFs, homophobes, transphobes, radical right alined people, and racists are not welcome on my blog.

I'm really close to 4,000 followers and I'm increadibly honored to have people enjoy the things I write. I know compared to other social media platforms, 4,000 is small potatoes, but it truly means the world to me that so many people find comfort or joy in what I put out. That being said, it's no skin off my nose if I lose half my followers because of this post.

So, as the title suggests, if you fall under this criteria, kindly see yourself out. If I find accounts that openly posts hateful things and continues to follow me or interact with my content, they will immediately be blocked. I've already block four followers in two days for this reason.

I want to again extress my gratitude for all my followers than don't fall into these catagories. Your endless support, understanding, and kind words feed me so much creatively and I have so much planned as a thank you. I hope most of you will stick around after this, but I understand if you won't- it'll be better for the both of us.

#terfs #misogny #boundaries #dni if you meet this criteria #mha #tmnt #mha x reader #stranger things #tmnt 2012 #one piece #x reader #headcanon #txt #one piece x reader

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the-wize-1 · 1 month

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Thawing the Widow (A Natasha Romanoff Story): Chapter 7 - School

Chapter Summary: Natasha tricks Cat into going to school. Apparently she's some kind of genius.

Chapter Warnings: Talks about kidnapping.

Notes: Thanks for all the support on this story! Please continue to like/reblog/comment (I feel like a Youtuber). Also if there is anything you're interested in seeing in the story, let me know and I'll try to incorporate it!

Thawing the Widow Masterlist

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Once they arrived at Natasha's apartment, Cat had to try hard to pretend not to be too impressed.

It had to be three times as large as Trevor's place. It was impeccably furnished and decorated, with lush sofas and pristine countertops. To Cat's delight, there were two fancy espresso machines— if you felt like making two cups at the same time, she guessed. The apartment was located in the richer part of the neighborhood. There was a sprawl of shops and diners across the street. It was clear that being an Avenger paid well.

The house had that fresh, new-house smell. She noticed there were no framed pictures in the apartment, or anything that could have revealed who the owner was. There were three bedrooms. In contrast to the rest of the apartment, the bedrooms were furnished very little. One of them was completely empty. The other two only had beds and drawers. One of them had a desk. There was barely anything in the fridge. Natasha only had plastic cups and utensils.

"I only stay here when I'm in the neighborhood," Natasha explained. "It's more of a safehouse. That's why it's so empty."

Cat was okay with the space. She liked having room to move. It was vastly different from Trevor's apartment, which had been cluttered with so many beer bottles that she could hardly walk from one side of a room to the other without stumbling over something.

Natasha gave her a key to the apartment, and told her, "If you lose it, you aren't getting another one."

Cat was allowed to choose a room; she chose the one with the desk. It took her roughly five minutes to unpack. The only things she still carried with her were basic living necessities and her stuffed rabbit, Rufus. She had a diverse collection of clothes, taken from homeless shelters and traded on the street. They fit her oddly, either oversized or undersized, and most of them were ripped or had holes in them.

The ill-fitting clothes didn't escape Natasha's notice. The second day, Cat woke up to find the closet bursting with a plethora of clothes. Leggings, T-shirts, tops, jeans, jackets, coats. She had no idea how Natasha had gotten her size, but all of them fit her perfectly. She was suddenly overwhelmed with a wave of gratitude. She didn't know if she could put it into words. But Natasha didn't bring it up, so neither did she.

As the days went by, Cat noticed new additions to the apartment. New pens and books appeared in her room. Chew toys and dog beds for Taco manifested in the living room. The fridge was always full. Sometimes Taco Bell would be waiting on the table when Cat got back. A couple of those cheesy mugs with funny one-liners sat next to the expensive wine bottles in the cupboards. And lastly, about five different brands of cereal in the pantry, including Fruit Loops. Yet, Natasha never said a word about it.

Despite what Natasha had said about only living there when she was in the neighborhood, she seemed to be at the apartment quite a lot. She was nearly always at the table in the morning, awake before the sun. She would be reading a book or scrolling through her phone, a pot of coffee steaming next to her. She always glared when Cat stole it to pour herself two mugfuls of coffee, muttering something about grubby coffee-addicted children.

Cat appreciated the tranquil peacefulness of the mornings. Back when she lived at Trevor's, mornings were the only time she had to herself. She'd never been great at the whole sleeping thing, either. It wasn't uncommon for her to be up at 3AM drinking coffee. When she'd been homeless, her sleep schedule had been all over the place.

However, Natasha's sleeping schedule seemed even more irregular. She often came back to the apartment at odd hours, or got up at midnight for a jog. Sometimes, they caught each other in the kitchen in the early hours and talked about nothing in particular. Natasha never asked her why she was up so late, or told her to go back to sleep. She did, however, make many comments that hinted at Cat's unhealthy sleeping habits, which Cat was content to ignore. Their conversations had a fair amount of rolling eyes and bickering.

Still, some days Cat walked into the kitchen in the morning and Natasha wasn't there. The woman never left a note or mentioned leaving. She'd come back after a few days. The most she'd been away was two weeks. Cat guessed that she was on some Avenger-related mission. She'd always come back looking a little tired, with bandages over fresh cuts and bruises.

Cat was good on her own. Cash was kept in a hidden drawer in the kitchen. Natasha had shown it to her the first week. She could get in and out of the apartment with her key. Over the next few weeks, she fell into a routine. She spent the days walking around the city, exploring new streets and shops. She took Taco to the park, went to the library to read, and was free to do whatever she pleased.

Overall, life was good. So good, that Cat had to routinely keep reminding herself to not get too comfortable. Still, it was hard when she had all the Fruit Loops and coffee she could ever want, a warm place to sleep, and the constant hunger in her stomach no longer intensified day by day.

But what if this whole plan didn't work out? Cat knew better than to think this was anything but a temporary arrangement. She had learned from making this mistake in various foster homes. One second, things were fine— then all of the sudden, BAM! She was back in the system because they decided she was too troublesome, too mouthy, too much to deal with. She got into too many fights, she was too hyper, she was mean to the other kids— Cat had heard it all. What if the same thing happened with Natasha? The questions lingered in her mind.

The first time Natasha had left for a mission, Cat had explored the entire apartment fully. She'd discovered not one but twenty-three different hiding places loaded with weapons, cash, fake passports, and random assortments. Cat didn't know why she was so surprised when she saw the guns. Of course the Black Widow would want to be protected in her own house. But the guns gave her an idea.

Just in case she had to live on the streets again, she needed something that would protect her. Cat took a gun from one of the hiding places and stashed it in her pillowcase. She'd read about that type of gun in the library and had studied the different diagrams. At night, she practiced taking it apart and putting it back together, then practiced turning the safety on and off. Sometimes she would aim it at nothing in particular, imagining those muggers who'd attacked her on the other end of it. She was reminded of how helpless she felt, how weak.

Briefly, that took her back to Trevor. She shut the memory down quick— she was getting better at that. Gripping the gun tightly, she decided that she never wanted to feel that helpless again.

But simply knowing how to hold the gun wasn't enough. One day, she confronted Natasha at breakfast.

"Teach me how to fight."

Natasha set down her fork. Her expression, as always, was unreadable. "Why?"

"Because I want to know how."

"Why do you want to know how?"

Cat didn't want to tell her the real reason why. She was quiet for a long time. "I just do."

Natasha was silent for a long moment. She seemed to see right through her. Cat shifted nervously.

"Okay."

Cat beamed, nearly springing out of her chair in glee. "Really?"

"However, I have two conditions."

Cat sat back down and crossed her arms, not liking the sound of that. "What are they?"

"One, stop stealing my guns."

Cat's heart stuttered in her chest. How the hell did she notice it was gone? There must've been at least thirty guns hidden around the apartment.

"I… don't know what you're talking about," she tried.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Please. You're not as sneaky as you think you are. The walls are paper-thin. And I'm familiar with what assembling and disassembling a semi-automatic pistol sounds like."

"Okay, fine. Stealing guns— not an option. What about the knives?"

Natasha glared.

"Okay, fine. No knives either." Cat leaned back in the chair. "So what's the second condition?"

A gleam in Natasha's eye made Cat feel wary. "The second condition: If I teach you how to fight, you have to go to school."

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

And that was how Cat found herself waiting in front of the principal's office at a brand-new school, smack in the middle of the school year, waiting to be admitted into her first class.

Fun.

Natasha only agreed to teaching Cat how to fight after she completed her first day of school. It would be worth it, Cat reminded herself, when she was being taught how to punch a mugger in the face by the Black Widow herself.

When Cat saw the new backpack Natasha had chosen for her, she'd gotten second thoughts. Currenting lying next to her feet, it was no less hideous than her old one. This one was My Little Pony merchandise, a mortifying pink covered in sparkly bright pony decorations. Cat had an inkling that Natasha had done it on purpose— oh, who was she kidding? She'd definitely done it on purpose.

The room was painted a mild and disgusting shade of yellow. The walls were covered in posters with words. Cat amused herself by reading through them. NO BULLYING. Think big! Your only limit is your mind. One was covered with words like responsibility and respectful and happiness. Barf.

The secretaries' desk sat in front of the principal's office. There were two of them. One looked like she should've retired two decades ago. She moved with an agitating slowness only rivaled by the laziest sloth in the rainforest. She was squinting at her computer, frowning and muttering to herself. Cat was almost certain she was playing solitaire. The other secretary was gossiping on the phone to someone about Terry's latest squash patch and how they all looked like a bunch of deformed potatoes.

Taco hadn't been allowed on campus. She was so used to having her beagle around that without her, Cat felt like some part of her was missing. That, coupled with having to sit still at the chair made her antsy. Cat had never been a patient person. She checked the time on the clock for the second time that same minute. How was it possible that she'd only been waiting seven and a half minutes?

Cat was saved from her boredom by the door beside her chair swinging open. A dark haired boy sauntered in. Cat caught a glimpse of a self-satisfied expression on his face as he made his way to the secretaries' desk and slammed a pink slip of paper down on it with an unnecessary amount of force.

"Jesus!" the gossiping secretary cried.

The secretary playing solitaire showed no sign of acknowledging that anything had happened. She frowned and muttered to herself some more, clicking her mouse.

"Hi, Julie," the boy said.

"Please stop calling me Julie, Lance. I'm Mrs. Schroder."

"But it's your name. Can't I call you by your name?"

"Well it's unprofessional—"

"But I'm not a professional. I'm only a kid."

"That's not the point, Lance. Let me see that." She took the pink paper slip from him. "What've you done this time?" She read it and shook her head. "Take a seat next to Catalina, Lance."

Lance turned around and plopped down next to Cat. He looked at her. His eyes were weirdly bright and blue, a steep contrast to his dark hair.

"Hi," he whispered.

"Hi," Cat whispered back, unsure of why they were whispering.

"I haven't seen you before. You must be new."

Cat raised her eyebrows. "Just because you haven't seen me before doesn't mean I'm new. There are loads of people at this school."

"I know everyone here. I've been going here since kindergarten."

"Good for you."

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "But you are new, right?"

"Yes," Cat admitted.

"I knew it!"

"There's no need to sound so pleased with yourself. It's not like you made a groundbreaking discovery."

"I'm Lance, by the way. I'm in fourth grade." He reached his right hand over. Cat shifted in her seat, awkwardly positioning herself so she could shake his hand. "You're Catalina, right?"

"Just Cat for short. I'm also in fourth grade. Your hand's really cold."

He released her hand, looking a little embarrassed. "They're always that way. I have bad cir-cu-la-tion" he said, sounding the word out slowly. "But my mom always says I should shake people's hands when I meet them. She's weird."

My mom's dead, Cat nearly said, but deemed it a little too heavy for fourth grader conversational topics.

"So why do you listen to her?" she asked instead.

"I don't know. 'Cause she's my mom, I guess." His eyes moved down to the My Little Pony monstrosity. "Nice backpack."

"Not really. I know it's ugly. I didn't choose it."

"Did your mom choose it for you?"

"No," she said shortly. Before he could ask about it, Cat switched tracks quickly. "How'd you get in trouble?"

He grinned mischievously. "I dumped a bucket of paint over Chelsea's head. It got all over her hair. You should've seen her face." He crowed delightfully. "Mrs. Reynolds totally freaked out. It was hilarious."

She huffed, turning away from him. "Jerk."

"Hey," he protested. "I'm not a jerk!"

"Says the guy who poured a bucket of paint over some girl's head for no reason."

"First of all, it was Chelsea Manchester. If you knew that witch, you'd want to pour a bucket of paint over her head too. And it wasn't for no reason!"

"I bet it was for a stupid reason, then."

"It wasn't!"

"Was!"

"Wasn't!"

"Was!"

"Wasn't!"

Their argument had risen in volume so that the secretary on the phone snapped, "HEY! You two! Quiet!"

Cat crossed her arms, throwing a skeptical look at him. "What was the reason, then?" she asked, quieter.

"She bet me I wouldn't," Lance said proudly.

Cat rolled her eyes. "See? Stupid reason."

Before Lance could retaliate, the principal's door swung open. He was an unsightly, pudgy man with no neck and squinty eyes, decked out in a full suit that probably didn't fit him as well as he hoped it would.

"Catalina?" he called.

"She likes being called Cat," Lance interjected. "I know that because I talked to her, Mr. Tater Tot."

"Wow," Cat said. "Is your name actually Mr. Tater Tot?"

"No," Mr. Tater Tot said crossly. "It's Mr. Tate. Lance, if you could refrain from passing your bad influence on our new students, I will be with you in a second. Catalina, come on in."

"It's Cat!" Lance called from his seat as Cat followed Mr. Tater Tot inside his office.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

This is a way better punishment than skipping recess," Lance said later, as he was pointing out the bathrooms to her.

Mr. Tater Tot had told Lance that being the welcome wagon for Cat was his punishment for pouring paint over Chelsea Manchester. He also had to write the girl a formal apology letter.

"But it doesn't actually have to be an apology letter," Lance told Cat. "Mr. Tater Tot never actually reads the thing, 'cause he's so busy and all. Supposedly. So basically you can write stuff like I hope you find a dead rat in your cubby the next time we have recess and you're good to go."

"Oh, here's Mrs. Reynold's class," he said, leading her through a door.

The classroom was colorful and full of the same gag-worthy posters she'd seen in the principal's office. Desks were pushed together to create table groups. Mrs. Reynolds was a young twenty-something woman who didn't seem awful at doing her job. Only, she made Cat introduce herself in front of the entire class like they were in kindergarten.

"Say your name and your favorite color," Mrs. Reynolds encouraged her.

Cat told everyone her favorite color was gray. It wasn't, but she thought it was funny because who the hell liked gray, of all colors?

Mrs. Reynolds placed her in the same group as Lance, a boy wearing rectangular glasses, and a seething girl who looked like she'd taken a shower with all her clothes on. Her hair was dripping over the carpet and her skin was tinged blue. She had a delicate face and would've been pretty if she hadn't looked like a Smurf. Cat presumed this was Chelsea Manchester.

The boy wearing glasses looked relieved when Lance and Cat came over. "Oh good, you're back. She's been going on and on."

"You! Look what you did to me!" Chelsea shrieked at Lance. "Mrs. Reynolds! I don't want to sit near him!"

"Get along, you two," Mrs. Reynolds said airily, passing worksheets to everyone.

"That's T.J.," Lance introduced, pointing at the boy with the glasses, "and that's the wicked witch herself."

T.J. waved. "Hi."

"Do not listen to anything he tells you. Lance is a huge loser." Chelsea turned to Lance, shoving the blue sleeve of her white fluffy coat. "This was a beautiful titanium white before! Look what color it is now!"

"Now it's a nice titanium blue," Cat offered.

Chelsea frowned at her. "That doesn't even make sense!"

Mrs. Reynolds hurried over. "Catalina—"

"It's Cat," Lance corrected.

"Right— Cat, would you come over here?" Mrs. Reynolds beckoned her towards a sole desk isolated from the rest of the class, in the farthest corner. There was a small packet sitting on it, as well as a pencil and eraser. "This is just a standard test. You'll be quizzed on math or English. Don't worry if you haven't prepared for it. It's not graded, it's just for me to see where you're at academically. Try to get through as many problems as you can. I'm not expecting you to complete the whole thing, just try your best…"

Cat didn't think she'd have any problem with the test. She had studied to a high school level in the library. Math came easy to her. All it was was memorizing a bunch of rules and applying it to numbers. English was a little harder, but it was similar to math in the sense that it also had a set of rules to memorize.

After Mrs. Reynolds left her to teach the class, Cat quickly scanned the problems on the first page. Sure enough, all the problems on the first page were easy enough that she could do in her head. She flew through them, circling the correct answers. The second page was much of the same.

Cat flipped through the third, the fourth, the fifth, and the sixth pages with little to no difficulty. Surely it couldn't be this easy! She had spent so much time at the library, away from school, she'd forgotten how easy all the elementary school material was. By the time she reached the last page, Mrs. Reynolds still hadn't come to get her.

Cat sneaked a look up. The class was bent over their desks, scribbling on paper. The only sound was the occasional mutter from a student, immediately silenced by Mrs. Reynolds. Was Cat supposed to just… sit there? She flipped through the pages of the test packet again, making sure that she hadn't missed anything important that should have been consuming her time.

But she'd finished every single problem. She didn't bother checking her work; she knew she'd done it all correctly. When it came to math, she was like a calculator.

Unsure of what else to do, Cat settled for doodling on the margins of the test. She drew a spider, a pumpkin, a pumpkin eating a spider… She was so focused, she jumped when she heard Mrs. Reynold's voice next to her ear.

"I'm sorry, Cat. I'm so silly— I just realized I gave you the wrong test. That's the middle school curriculum. You must've been so confused!" Mrs. Reynolds took the packet from Cat and frowned. Eyebrows climbing up on her forehead, she flipped through the pages and looked back up at Cat again. Then back down at the test. Then—

"Have you finished the packet already?"

"Yeah."

"You didn't show your work," she observed.

"I did it in my head," Cat explained.

Mrs. Reynolds looked at Cat thoughtfully. "Hmm."

She hurried away with Cat's test, telling the class she was leaving for a little bit and to behave. Cat sat there for a long time, not knowing what to do and feeling like she did something wrong. The class was beginning to finish whatever it was they were working on. Quiet chatter turned into a clamor of voices.

Mrs. Reynolds burst into the classroom again, the chatter immediately calmed. She told T.J. to pass out another round of worksheets, causing the class to collectively groan. She returned to Cat's isolated corner desk and slid another packet to her and asked her to complete it.

This time, Mrs. Reynolds dragged a chair over and watched as Cat completed the test. Cat found it a little creepy. The test was a little harder than the previous one, but she was still able to finish it without any trouble. After she finished, Mrs. Reynolds left the classroom again and came back. Cat had no idea why Mrs. Reynolds looked so amazed and confused. Teachers were weird.

"Cat, this is incredible," Mrs. Reynolds whispered to her. "You completed a seventh grade level and an eighth grade level standardized test, and you passed both with flying colors."

Oh. No wonder it was so easy. Cat stared blankly at Mrs. Reynolds, who seemed to be waiting for a reaction. What was the big deal? "Um… cool," she said.

"Okay," Mrs. Reynolds said, still looking like she couldn't believe what she was saying. "You can go back to your table group now."

"Don't worry about the test," T.J. told her when she came back. "Everyone did horrible on it."

"Not me," Chelsea sniffed. "I did spectacularly. Mrs. Reynolds told my parents herself."

Lance snorted. "I suppose your parents were the ones who told you that?"

"Why does it matter?" Chelsea asked indignantly.

Lance rolled his eyes.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

"How was school?" Natasha called as Cat unlocked the apartment and stormed in. Taco sprung up from the couch and charged into her.

"Horrible. Not you, Taco," Cat mumbled into Taco's fur. "You're wonderful."

Natasha came into the living room, holding the landline. "That's not what your teacher said. She called— apparently you're some kind of genius."

Cat had reached into a box of Fruit Loops and stuffed a handful in her mouth. It took her a long time to chew and swallow. "Well, obviously. I didn't need her to tell me that."

"She says you could take some classes at the high school if you're interested." Natasha waited for an answer. When none came, she pressed, "Well? Are you interested?"

Cat set the box of Fruit Loops down, not liking the steely glint in Natasha's eyes. "If I say I'm not, are you going to refuse to teach me how to fight?"

"The chances of me using that as leverage against you… are very high."

Cat clenched her jaw. "You're evil. And manipulative."

Natasha smirked. "So you're on board?"

"I'm going to be bullied. Relentlessly."

"You are not. High schoolers love ten year old know-it-all geniuses."

"They do not."

"Then it's a good thing you're going to know how to beat some high schoolers up after you learn from the best. Isn't that what you want?"

Cat sighed theatrically, long and drawn-out. "Fiiiiine.”

"Great!" Natasha chirped with uncharacteristic cheer. "I was going to sign you up regardless of your answer."

"Thanks so much for bothering to ask me at all," Cat said sarcastically. She grabbed Taco's leash. "Taco and I are going on a walk. See you never."

"Midtown High!" Natasha called after her retreating form. "You're going to be learning amongst the best and brightest!"

Cat shouted back a not very nice thing. She could hear Natasha's low laugh echo before the door swung shut.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Notes: Hmm, who goes to midtown high that we know? Let me know what you think and if you like Cat's friends! See you on thursday!

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