#also the school giving me like a thousand things and no place to put them (i didn't get a locker like everyone else)

[atrwriting]

trust me -- billy the kid x barowner!reader

hi everyone :) sorry I've been MIA — law school has been kicking my #ass but it's ok. I saw the new thg movie and while IAMNOTACORIOSNOWSTAN but I am a t*m bl*th and the man was so fine in this show. so fine. I've only seen like three fics for this man (maybe I just don't know how to search correctly thats probably my fault) but I was SEARCHING FOREVER and then I just got pissed because I couldn't find any so I wrote almost eight thousand words for this man that is how down bad I was

informal warnings: me. 1) I should be put on a leash 2) I use italics way too much 3) and whatever the fuck this "—" is 4) will i ever give up the female bar owner trope 5) will I ever stop tho? [vanilla ice voice] no, I don't know

as always, the actual warnings: smutty smut smut SMUT!, unprotected sex (1880's bby but you still gotta wrap it before you tap it), violence, guns, bit of gore but like the tiniest bit, virgin!reader, p in v sex, oral sex, bit of a dom!billy, bit of a bratty!sub!reader, overstimulation what can I say I should be put on a leash

anyway.... here's trust me:

when your father died… it was hard to be sad. he wasn’t very kind and he never seemed to like you very much… but in his will, being his only surviving kin, he left you money.

a lot of it.

and an old building.

the town it resided in was convenient in the way that many people that were passing through had to stop there. so what did you do? well, the only thing you could do — turn it into a restaurant and boarding house.

the money he left behind was used to fix up the place and pay your employees.

within a few weeks time, your place was up and running with very little vacancy. families and important people were always in your bar or comfortably in their rooms. never had you ever thought someone could be as lucky as you.

until one day. that day.

you worked alongside your employees but flipped between positions. sometimes you were a hostess, ran the front desk, a bartender, or anything else that needed tending to. in response, many people did not know you were the owner — and, therefore, some people treated you like you weren’t.

mainly gross old men, which you could handle. however, when a young, strong, and tall man challenged you?

that was dangerous. too dangerous.

even a fake wedding ring didn’t steer them away.

on that day, a young blacksmith had found his way into your bar. he was handsy with you much of the night, and you tried your best to steer him away. it wasn’t until you pulled a knife on him that he finally let up. it didn’t look like anyone saw, but still — you were scared and worried. would people think you classless, for pulling a knife on a patron? would they see you as weak? would they notice that the alcohol you served brought in too rowdy of a crowd? would they stop venturing in?

you thought no one noticed, and tried to convince yourself of that fact — but you were wrong.

when you were closing for the night, mostly everyone had left. a small group of men usually stayed until close — and you didn’t mind. they drank well, paid their tab, and were mostly quiet and polite. you didn’t know any of their names — but it was usually bad when you did know a patron’s name, so you liked them.

you had your back turned to the front of the bar, stacking bottles, when someone cleared their throat from behind you.

“ma’am?”

you turned around.

a tall, fair skinned man with a hat stood before you. his clothes were old and worn, and his fingernails reflected that he was a hard worker during the day. that type of exhaustion was also reflected in his eyes.

but, damn... his face? no one could deny that that man was handsome.

you smiled. “another drink, sir?”

“no. thank you.” he paused for a moment, keeping your gaze. “i wanted to check if you were alright.”

you immediately knew what he was talking about, but kept your face stoic. “yes, sir, thank you.”

he looked like he wanted to say something, but struggled with how to word it. “he usually a problem?”

you clenched your jaw. “he’s… he’s fine. too much drink, ‘s’all. gets the best of working men. can’t blame ‘em.” you swallowed, trying to keep your anxiety at bay. who was this man and why did he care? was he a friend of the man? “you sure there’s nothing i can’t get for you?”

“some wouldn't blame ‘em.” he ignored your question. his bright blue eyes held your gaze. “i would.”

you forced a tight lipped smile. with a laugh, you joked, “i’ll… be fine, sir. thank you. thought a fake wedding ring would do the trick… gotta think of something else now.”

he smiled, but in a sad way. “i was going to ask if your husband ever checked in on the place.”

“no husband,” you affirmed with a sigh. you introduced yourself, and then asked, “what’s your name?”

“william h. bonney, ma’am… but you can call me billy.”

“nice to meet you, billy,” you smiled. “and, please — don’t call me ma’am.”

“alright.” he returned your smile. “the men behind me… we run a sort of — security detail for part time work. if you ever wanted to hire us, we could have a man here when we can spare.”

you nodded, contemplating your offer. he explained the per diem, and you immediately agreed.

“if your man can keep this place safe with little bloodshed, i’ll even throw in a free bottle a day,” you countered.

and that was how your business with billy the kid and his men began.

the men that came along were usually polite and quiet, and mostly stayed at the edge of the bar. they watched for problems, and slowly but surely your fear had begun to subside. there was a minor scuffle one day, where a man had cracked a glass and cut you with it… but billy’s man had stopped him before he could do anything else. you didn’t hold it against billy’s guy — you cared about your business and if the business got bloody, not so much yourself.

billy, on the other hand… did not agree.

one day, bright and early, he parked himself at the middle of the bar where you stood behind the counter.

“rarely see you for detail,” you smiled, wiping down a glass. “much less this early. breakfast, mr. bonney?”

“billy, ma’am,” he responded. “breakfast does sound fine.”

you laughed. “i hate when you call me ma’am.”

“don’t much like it when you call me mister,” he quirked an eyebrow. billy was a rather emotionless and hard man, but you could tell he was joking.

you laughed again. “steak and eggs for billy, coming right up.”

the rest of the day went on peacefully, and you kept billy’s glass full. he was quiet and didn’t talk much, which you weren’t too keen about. he was mysterious, tall, dark and handsome — which was usually a bad combination. you knew it was, and you should’ve cared — but you didn’t.

as you were filling billy’s glass into the later hours of the afternoon, you finally bucked up the courage to ask him a question.

“so why did you stop in today?” you asked. “not that i mind. i just have only seen you when you come in at night.”

“we made a deal, sweetheart,” he responded. your eyes perked up at the nickname. you didn’t hate the nickname — but you hated yourself a wee bit for how much you liked hearing billy call you it. “the man i sent here was supposed to make sure he kept you from harm — he didn’t hold up his end on the deal.”

“it was kept quiet from the other patrons,” you responded. “that’s all i really care about. i’m a woman in the restaurant and boardinghouse business — stuff like that is bound to happen. no need to be hard on him.”

“you keep my men’s glasses too full for them to let slip ups like that happen,” he replied. “he knew better. should've acted better.”

“you’re the boss, billy,” you sighed with a smile. “i’m just the bartender.”

“damn good bartender at that,” he spoke. “too good.”

you giggled, and grew ashamed rather quickly at how much you enjoyed his company. you didn’t know him well, no… but damn, was it nice to have him around.

the rest of the night was rather quiet. a few families had stepped in and out, and a few meetings were being held where the tables sat. that was until the blacksmith that started this whole thing came in and sat himself only a stool away from billy.

you threw a look at billy, but he didn’t meet your eyes. his peripheral vision was already on the man. billy remembered him, and you couldn’t say fondly.

“whiskey, sweetheart,” he grunted. “leave the bottle.”

you sighed. a quiet day was going to turn into a rough night in a matter of a few moments.

“mr. martin, i can’t leave the bottle unless you settle your tab from the nights prior,” you answered. “i can get you a double and add it on, though, if that’s alright with you?”

“that’s not alright with me, girl,” he grunted again, glaring you down. “leave the damn bottle!”

you stood your ground. “there’s a bar across the street, mr. martin.”

“you don’t want my business, that it, sweetheart?”

“not much business if you don’t pay," you quipped.

through gritted teeth, he spat, “leave. the damn. bottle.”

“pay. the. tab.”

he went to catch you by the arm, but you were too quick. you anticipated his antics this time. you snatched an empty bottle, and broke the base of it in the sink. you put the broken, jagged edge of the neck of the bottle in between the two of you. your eyes were wild — you could feel it, and both men could definitely see it. startled, he drew back.

“this is the only bottle you’re getting with that attitude.”

that was when billy stood up and walked towards the man. the thuds of his boots, though few considering the short distance, were deafening in the mostly silent bar. you may have had a makeshift weapon, but billy? billy the kid? everyone knew what he had on him.

“time for you to leave, friend.”

the man laughed. “friend? who’s my friend to tell me when i need to leave?”

“the one who’s a quicker draw than you, that's who." his answer was slow and cool — too calm, which only made the shiver of a threat run up and down your spine faster.

the man, all talk, clenched his jaw as he stared at billy. he slapped the tab money on the top of the bar, and walked out.

you didn’t let out a sigh of relief until the man left.

but billy was the one that spoke first. “was going to step in immediately… but you held your own. they need to respect you before they’re scared of me.”

you laughed. “little does he know i’m all talk as well.”

“with that bottle?” he chuckled. “sweetheart, even i was scared.”

“you threatened him with a gun… i don’t think anything scares you, billy,” you asked. “thank you for stepping in.”

“‘s my job.”

“i know… but still,” you spoke.

you were continuing to close before he spoke again.

“what made you want to start this place?” he asked.

“my father passed a few moons before i opened this place,” you responded. “no parents, no husband — thought i might try this out.”

“my ma wanted to start a place like this,” he replied. “never got the chance.”

you nodded with a sad smile. “didn’t know her… but i think she’d be proud of how you handled that. don’t think he’ll be much trouble anymore.”

“she’d think i’m trouble with how full the lovely bartender keeps my glass,” he spoke, but looked like he instantly regretted it. “my apologies, i shouldn’t’ve — the whiskey —“

“you’re fine,” you laughed, your blush pinching your cheeks. as you walked away, you threw over your shoulder, “hopefully your ma wouldn’t mind that i keep her son’s glass full for his good work… nor that i think her son’s handsome.”

from that day forward, billy was always the man who sat at your bar.

he always greeted and made pleasant conversation with you, and glared at any man that got too aggressive with you. if looks could kill… billy would never need what he held in his holster.

you’d giggle to yourself after the creepy men would walk away. you’d never know… but when billy would hear your giggle afterwards, he’d smile, too.

but he kept that to himself.

however, slowly… he was becoming more comfortable with your company.

“so why didn’t you marry?” he one day asked randomly.

you were wiping down a glass when you got lost in the thought. “when there’s a nice one that’s interested… maybe. haven’t already because there aren’t very many nice ones. it was very convenient when you started keeping the bad ones away.”

to your dismay, he didn’t say anything in response.

but you had gotten comfortable with his company, too. too comfortable.

“and why isn’t there a mrs. bonney, billy?”

“she’d get jealous about how much time i spend with you,” he responded.

there was very little emotion in his voice, and you were afraid of reading into what he was saying. was he returning your flirtations? was he telling you that you were a drag? to answer your own question, you jokingly said, “well if i’m too much trouble, mr. bonney, you are more than welcome to have another one of your men step in.”

“well, ma’am —“ he began. “then i’d get jealous of how much time they were spending with you.”

you couldn’t hide the blush that rose into your cheeks. billy looked upon your face with a small smile tugging at his lips, and his gaze didn’t waver.

“keep talking like that, billy, and i’ll become trouble for you,” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“can’t say i’d mind much,” he responded, taking a sip of his glass, but holding eye contact with you.

if you weren’t frozen, you would’ve pulled yourself over the bar right then and then and planted yourself in his lap. you would’ve flung his glass to the floor, and wouldn’t have cleaned it up until you had kissed every inch of that man. you would’ve responded, but you couldn’t...

that was when billy’s men had stepped into the bar.

the air immediately darkened. the blonde one, named jesse, had led the pack as they stalked in. billy immediately flipped around to see what the problem was.

“sweetheart, give us a minute,” billy asked, calling over his shoulder.

billy never gave you orders, let alone in your own bar. however, if he was asking you to… you figured you should probably listen. you left the bar and went into the back. most of your employees had left for the night, so you helped the remaining ones clean up. it would be a few minutes or so before billy had come back into the kitchen to find you. you went back into the bar with him.

“i’ll be back before you close,” he spoke. “lock the doors.”

a second order. something he never did in the first place. something was wrong. you didn’t pry… you just scrunched your eyebrows in response.

“something’s up,” he spoke. he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before he turned to leave. “i’m takin’ care of it.”

there you stood, absolutely stunned. billy and his men left the bar with haste and didn’t look back. you, on the other hand, stood frozen… unable to leave the spot where you had billy the kid, known for his deadly skills, kiss you on the cheek.

you finally moved, reluctantly, but only to close up.

it would be close to an hour before billy finally came back. a few of his friends came with him, and they dragged in a man on their shoulder who was grunting in pain. blood was pouring from his leg, and you immediately went for the medical supplies you kept hidden under the counter. you grabbed two bottles of whiskey for good measure, arguably also a part of your makeshift kit.

“put him down on the table,” you gushed. his men were stunned to see you hustling, but they didn’t hesitate to rest their friend. you immediately took a look at the man’s leg, and were thankful to see that there would be no permanent damage. you shoved a bottle at jesse, and stated, “make him drink this.”

jesse had unscrewed the bottle and helped his friend drink before you fished out the bullet. thankfully no arteries were punctured, but it would be some time before he was good again. you cleaned up the man the best you could, and asked if any of the men needed anything.

“no, ma’am…” jesse responded. “we were going to bring him here and do it ourselves, your place was closest… so thank you.”

you smiled at him. “take the bottles. need it more than me.”

he tipped his hat to you.

“jesse,” billy began. “you and the boys head home.”

without question, jesse nodded. they helped their friend to his feet and left with a goodbye. even though they left, the unsettling feeling of the room hadn’t changed. billy seemed… different. heavier. he wasn’t the same man that had kissed you on the cheek before he had left.

you turned to him. “i won’t pry, but —“

“good,” he spat, turning to you. billy’s eyes bore into yours like you were one of the problem men at your bar. “don’t.”

a look of hurt flashed across your face. you could feel it. “you’re looking at me like i did something.”

“i told you to lock the door,” he spat again, his look of anger unwavering.

you had only seen billy's eyes that wide and that angry when there was someone being cruel to you. the thought made you shiver.

“how would you have gotten back in?” you asked.

“knocked,” he bit.

you narrowed your eyes at his curt response. “i had a feeling something was wrong. if i had waited to unlock, i couldn’t have gotten that bullet out as fast as i did.”

“doesn’t matter,” he bit. “how am i supposed to keep you safe if you won’t listen to me?”

you scrunched your brows together in confusion. “billy… whatever happened where you were, it wasn’t here. i could’ve gone to bed… but i stayed up. waiting for you.”

“and what if someone came in, huh? what then?” he hollered. “what would you have done then?! what would i have done if you had gotten hurt?”

you shook your head in disbelief. you couldn’t believe billy was speaking to you with such disdain. “with the way you’re talking to me, billy — sounds like you’re used to women who don’t pull knives on creepy men, hold broke bottles to their necks — or fish bullets out of legs when i don’t know why he was shot in the first place. you’re used to those kind of women, and have a problem with me? maybe you should go back to them.”

you immediately turned away from him, beginning to walk towards the bar. billy was hot on your heels when he reached out to grab your wrist and turned you around.

he grabbed both sides of your face and pressed his lips to yours.

you wanted to scream at him, throw fists at his chest, push him away — anything to let you know how he hurt you, how he wronged you... but you couldn't.

no. you couldn't.

you were so stunned you stood frozen in place as his lips moved against yours. you loosely held his wrists in your hands, and kissed him back.

“don’t want those girls, darlin’,” he spoke, breathless, in between kisses. “knew you were a real woman the first time i saw you. the kind that puts the fear of god into you, but looks at you with such a sweetness in her eyes that you can’t look away.”

“better believe it, bonney,” you spat, half joking. “you’ve seen how quick i am.”

“i know, darlin’, i know,” he whispered, kissing you once more. “i also know i was wrong to speak to you the way i did.”

“shut your damn mouth and kiss me,” you replied, pulling him closer to you.

“yes, ma’am,” he playfully responded, and you slapped his shoulder.

billy had backed you up against the wall and pressed his body towards yours. you stood on your toes to reach him, and even then he had to lean down a foot or two.

“billy…” you began, pulling away. “i’ve never… but if you wouldn’t think less of me, we could go upstairs. to my room.”

“i’d never think less of you,” he spoke, shaking off your comment. “but… what’d’ya mean, ‘never?’”

“i’ve never been with a man, billy,” you responded, suddenly embarrassed.

he was quiet for a moment, before stating, “you sure you want it to be with me?”

you nodded. “if… if you want to, that is.”

he didn’t respond to your statement, he just kissed you. he kissed you with every emotion you didn’t think he ever possessed — raw, hot, desperate emotion that held you close and tight to him. the heat and the intensity made your brain swim, but you could only care so much when billy the fucking kid wanted you.

he slipped an arm around your shoulders and then underneath your knees before he picked you up. you bit back a squeal before you threw your arms around his neck.

“light as a feather, sweetheart, don’t you worry,” he spoke.

“all that steak i been feeding you?” you joked.

“my belt can’t help it if my woman feeds me well,” he replied, almost at the top of the stairs.

“you’re a flirt,” you giggled.

you pointed him towards your room. once in, he laid you down on the bed and laid on top of you. his body was warm and sturdy over yours, and you couldn’t help but feel warm. his hips were pressed against yours, but you couldn’t feel him through your dress. you grew frustrated at the thought.

you made quick work to undue his shirt, and billy was quick to catch on. he pulled away to take off his shirt, and you tried to take off your corset with his help.

“damn death trap,” he spat, fussing.

you giggled. he was cute when he was flustered, but nothing compared to the way he was looking hungrily down at you. you were completely bare before him, and you should’ve been embarrassed… but shame wasn’t present in this moment. the only thing you registered was how billy looked down at you — with adoration in his eyes as they raked down your naked form.

“will you…” you began. “will you show me… how to please… you?”

“another time, sweetheart,” he spoke, stealing a quick kiss from you. “i need my head between those legs of yours.”

“you-you don’t have to —“ you spoke. “i know that’s not something — that boys —“

“yeah — boys.” billy snapped, glaring at you. “real men want to taste their women.”

that shut you right up.

billy wedged himself in between your thighs and spread your folds. it caused a sharp intake of breath on your part, but you didn’t realize what you were in for. billy flattened his tongue, and licked a long stripe up your slit. your teeth sank into your lip at the foreign feeling that cause so much warmth to make your veins twitch.

…but when billy’s nose had nudged a specific spot at the top of your slit — your legs jerked.

“what — what —“ you stammered.

“shh,” billy cooed, slightly laughing. “i forgot how sensitive you were. my apologies, sweetheart.”

you trusted billy, sure, but you had never felt anything like that before in your life. the jerking motion of your legs was involuntary and made you fearful. billy could see the fear written on your face.

“that spot that i touched, that you felt?” he asked.

his eyes were so wide and meaningful you felt like you could melt in them. you brought yourself up to your elbows and hummed in acknowledgement.

“that is the most sensitive part of a woman, and if i play it just right —“ ever so lightly, you felt his middle finger and ring finger touch the spot. you shivered at the feeling, but you didn’t flinch like last time. you held his gaze as the warmth began to spread inside you. “i can make you feel better than you’ve ever felt.”

billy bent over your body and held himself up with extended arm planted firmly by your side. he swiped the two fingers over his tongue to lubricate them, and brought them right back to where they were. you both watched his fingers play at the most sensitive part of you, and your lip began to quiver.

“look at me, sweetheart.”

your eyes glanced back up to him.

like you thought before, if angry looks could kill… anyone would die by just a look from billy the kid. however, what would they say about the way he’s looking at you now? with his plump lips parted, and his eyes wild and hungry? you didn't know... but you knew you would find out.

“y’trust me?” he asked.

you hummed in agreement, nodding.

“say it.”

you sharply inhaled, caught off guard by his order. “yes, billy — i trust you.”

instead of leaning back down to plunge his face in between your thighs, he kissed you. his lips connected with yours in one of the most dominating ways you ever thought a man could. with his hand playing between your thighs, he swallowed every moan and cry you struggled to keep hidden inside of you. billy was breathing hard against you — relishing in how it felt to have you so vulnerable and close to him.

that was when his fingers picked up speed.

and, god… did it feel damn good.

“b-billy,” you whimpered. “feels…”

“still trust me?”

“yes,” you cried, screwing your eyes shut. “yes, it’s just…”

he leaned his head down so his mouth was right by your ear. his breaths were hot against your ear, and you hummed at the feeling. your hand played with the curls at the nape of his neck, tugging at the roots.

“fuck — you takin’ what i’m givin’ to you, darlin’,” he rasped, then continued, “drives me insane.”

you could barely hear what he was saying, nor could you respond. your head was swimming with the weight of billy so close to your naked body, holding you down and safe, with those skilled fingers of his working you like you were a damn trigger. you were a whimpering, crying mess — and billy loved every second of it.

“something — feels —“

“d’ya want me to stop?” he asked, breathless.

“no,” you whimpered, confused how the warmth inside you felt like it was going, going, going. you didn’t know where it started, where it was going, and definitely didn’t know where it ended. you were worried that you were going to explode — but you didn’t understand. “something feels — like i’m — i’m going —“

“let it happen, sweetheart.” his kisses were wet and sloppy along the skin of your throat. he nipped at the skin, and that only sent you into more of a frenzy. “that’s right, darlin’. that’s it. trust me. i’ve got you.”

and that was it.

the thing — billy’s words, that sent you toppling over whatever metaphorical edge you could think of to describe it. it felt like white, hot sparks went off behind your closed eyelids and were going off on every nerve ending in your body. whimpers left your bitten lips like you were a babe, and your back arched off the bed. distantly, you could hear billy cooing with excitement, laughter… and praise.

a light sheen of sweat was on both of you, and billy had never looked better. his musk was wafting through the air and had completely taken over your senses. you felt like the only thing in the room was billy and the only thing in the world that mattered was billy. men got drunk off whiskey, but you? you got drunk off of that pure, unfiltered scent and look of a masculine man who showed you how to experience the pleasure of a woman you had never known.

“fuck…” you whimpered as you came down from your high. you tried pushing billy’s hand away, but you were so weak you didn’t think you could.

“sorry, darlin’,” he laughed, kissing your throat again. “got selfish. wanted to keep seeing that pretty look on your face.”

it was difficult for you to find words, let alone enough for an adequate response. “billy… that… that felt…”

“i’m gonna be trouble for you now.” he stole a kiss. “nothing better than seeing you below me, like that…”

“i want you to feel good, too,” you began. “please, billy? i wanna see you, too.”

his lips formed a tight line. “i don’t want it to hurt you.”

“first time doesn’t always hurt,” you spoke. “no one says the second time hurts.”

he smiled at that, and began to roll on top of you. you stopped him, and gestured for him to sit up against the headboard. he was hesitant at first, but he did it anyway. you hovered your hips above his before licking one of your palms and gliding it over the tip of his length. you stroked him a few times, and a soft moan left his lips at the feeling.

“i can keep going,” you spoke, throwing a sultry look up at him. “i want to make you feel good.”

“no, doll,” he rasped. “too selfish. need to see that pretty face of yours do what it does again.”

you pouted for a short moment before you lifted your hips above his length and began to sink down. you could feel a slick leaking from your folds, which made you feel better about actually getting him inside you.

“go slow,” he ordered suddenly. “you stop if it hurts, got it?”

you nodded, half ignoring him.

but it didn’t hurt.

the first inch didn’t hurt. the second didn’t. the third, the fourth, the fifth, sixth, — you lost count. billy was so big and filled you so nicely that you were so greedy with how you sank down into him. you couldn’t have cared less about what he said before about going slow — all you needed was to feel all of him completely.

“you didn’t listen —“ he grunted, slightly mad. “you’re so lucky you feel good, fuck — you’re so tight —“

“so what if i didn’t listen, mr. bonney?” you smiled coyly at him, a sudden bout of confidence coming over you. maybe it was the post orgasm glow, maybe it was the new feeling of having the most perfect man inside of you — you weren’t sure. “you feel — so good.”

“don’t get bold on me, sweetheart,” he smirked.

you didn’t listen. you picked up your pace, rocking your hips back and forth to what felt good inside of you.

billy’s cock liked that, sure — but he didn’t. you could see the mental turmoil on his face as his neglected cock was finally getting the attention it deserved, but his hothead person didn’t like that his girl was getting smart on him.

that was when billy flipped you over onto your back, much to your dismay. you liked putting on a show for him and doing all the work for a change.

“you wanna act like that, darlin’, huh?” he asked in your ear with a raspy, lust filled voice. “not gonna listen to me?”

“it just felt so good, billy, please —“ you were whining at this point, pissed he had taken away that feeling.

“oh, you’re a greedy thing, that right?” he taunted. “gets one fuckin’ taste, and now she can’t get enough?”

you shook your head, desperate for something — anything. “so greedy, baby. please, billy — please just fuck me.”

his hips snapped against you. hard.

maybe it should’ve hurt — but fucking christ, it didn’t. it felt so good to have his strong, forceful hips thrust against yours and hit that spot so deep inside of you.

“you like that?” he asked, taunting you. “that’s what my greedy girl wanted? — needed?”

his hips were relentlessly snapping against yours now as he hovered above you by holding himself up on his elbows. the sight of his broad and strong chest and shoulders… enough to make any woman weak. a firm crease was in his brow, signaling he was struggling to keep up his mean persona.

“yes — yes —“ you cried. “billy, you’re so deep — it feels — fuck, you can’t stop billy. please —“

“sweetest fuckin’ pussy,” he grunted. “squeezing me so tight.”

“right there — that’s the spot, baby,” you bit your lip to keep your voice down.

billy leaned his forehead against yours, and his exhales fanned against your face. little moans were escaping his lips as well, but nothing like yours. instead, he spat, “couldn’t let me be nice to you and fuck you sweet, huh? had to get smart on me?”

you could barely hear him. billy’s usual raspy, and commanding voice was enough to make anyone stand at attention — but now? now you were some cockdrunk whore who didn’t care how she got what she wanted, only that she did. his thrust were hard and fast, hitting a deep spot in you that was making that warmth swell up in you again.

“didn’t want sweet, billy,” you whimpered. “wanted you to use me just like this.”

you weren’t sure what came over you — and billy wasn’t sure either. his thrusts didn’t falter, but he couldn’t understand how the pretty, innocent looking bartender could be so fucking naughty — but only for him. a sense of pride had never welled up inside him like that before, knowing that he was the only one who got to see the prettiest girl in town keen for someone’s touch like this.

his touch. only his touch.

“gonna be the fuckin’ death of me,” he spat against your ear. “should’ve known you’d be such a good girl for me — taking my cock like this. can you cum around my cock like this? gonna be the best girl — and show me how that pussy tightens around me?”

the curse words billy drew from you were not your sunday best, but they made billy’s guttural groans against your throat and ear that much more enticing. you were both covered in sweat, spit, and slick — and nothing had ever felt better. you were close, so close — and all you wanted was to see him finish so you could see it for yourself.

“billy, i’m so close —“ you cried. “but i wanna —i wanna see you —“

“shhh,” he cooed. “gonna take what i give you, sweet girl.”

he sent a hand in between your bodies, and started playing with that spot that had made you explode the last time. you almost protested, but there was nothing like having a man buried so deep inside you do whatever he could to make sure you felt the best you could. you whined, you cried, you screamed, fuck — you did everything to let him know that you were close, billy, i’m so close, please, i’m begging, please don’t stop, and billy refused to look away from your beautiful face as you came undone below him once more.

with your beautiful hair fanned out around you, billy thought you looked ethereal as your second orgasm overtook you. there was something about the way your eyes fluttered softly closed, but broken gasps left your lips like you were so far gone in pleasure that you were lost in it. here, beneath him, before him, was a woman he had spent so much time protecting, so worried about her safety… all he wanted to do was make her feel good. when your limbs began to quiver, knowing you were so deep in your orgasm that you were at the peak, billy couldn’t help himself. he knew you were sensitive, he knew how it would be too much, he knew he shouldn't — but he had to. he was so, so selfish with his greedy girl.

his fingers kept spinning circles on your pink rosebud, and it was like the white light behind your eyes couldn’t stop. you were gasping for air — begging, pleading, hoping, wishing. it was so much. it was too much. it was everything and anything all at once, and you didn’t realize how far you were falling until tears leaked from your eyes.

he should've hated himself for making you feel so lost, but he didn't. not one bit.

“billy —“ you cried, shaking. “i’m so — so sensitive —“

he engulfed you into a long kiss, smiling smugly against your lips. you would’ve laughed with him, but you were so weak. so, so weak. he knew how sensitive you were, and stopped his movements completely. you didn’t realize he hadn’t finished with you until he began to pull out of you.

“billy — you didn’t —“

“s’alright, darlin’—“

“no, it’s not,” you said firmly. “teach me how to do — that thing.”

“that... thing?”

“with my mouth.”

he hesitated before shaking his head. “i don’t… tonight was a lot — for you.”

you narrowed your eyes at him. “boys don’t taste their women, right? men do?”

he scrunched his eyebrows together, confused, but nodded anyway.

“and what about real women, billy?” you asked. “you think they like leaving their men unsatisfied?”

his lips parted at a loss. he couldn’t argue with that, could he?

“sit on the edge of the bed,” you spoke, sliding out from under him and finding a place on the floor.

he hesitated, but he didn’t argue with that, either.

you tried to hide your smirk from him.

he'd never tell you he saw it. he also would never tell you he loved it.

"you gonna tell me what to do, or what, cowboy?" you smirked up at him, taunting.

he shook his head, and pursed his lips in a way that he knew you were in over your head. "you're acting bold. let's see if you got a reason to."

you narrowed your eyes at him, but smiled anyway.

you returned your attention to the muscle you were holding in yours hands. it was long and thick — you weren't sure how it fit inside you before, and you definitely weren't sure how you were going to fit it in your mouth.

"too much for you, darlin'?" he quipped.

you shot him a look. "wasn't too much a minute ago, was it?"

you didn't let him respond. you licked the palm of your hand — throwing manners to the wind — and wrapped your hand around the tip and the top of the shaft. you made circular, stroking motions at the top and licked a stripe, like he did to you, up his shaft.

that shut him up.

a long and drawn out fuuuck had left his lips.

you shouldn't've — you knew you shouldn't've.

but you did anyway.

you started to kitten lick at his balls, and you could feel him shift from above you. hot and heavy groans were leaving his lips, to the point where he was incoherent. now that you had found his sweet spot, you'd never let go. just like he didn't.

"fuck, you are naughty," he rasped, voice dry and cracked. "my naughty girl. so good f'me."

you hummed as you wrapped your lips around the skin of his balls. they were warm and salty, and you relished in the taste. billy placed a heavy palm on the back of your head. you realized then and there he was foreign to giving up control — usually you'd give in, but not now. not when he was teasing you before.

you replaced your hand with your lips, and brought him down as far as you could.

from the corner of your eye, you spotted him beginning to fist the sheets.

tears were springing to your eyes, but you didn't care. you wanted to — had to keep going. you wanted this so badly — to take care of him. you needed this, and if he wanted it, too — he was going to give it to you.

you began to bob your head up and down, taking care to mind your gag reflex and teeth. the slurping sounds from your mouth were obscene — as was the drool falling from your lips, down your cheek, and along the skin of your raw neck.

both of billy's hands were on the back of your head now, giving you slightest — almost ghost like — push down. you welcomed it, hoping to show him you could take him far, farther than he thought you could handle.

above, he was going crazy. fucking nuts. his entire body was hot and on fire, and it took every ounce of him to not drag you back up into his lap and impale you on his cock. however... his muscles were tired, and his sweet girl looked so perfect on her knees before him, and who was he to deny her what she wanted so badly — what she earned?

he'd never tell you — but he wanted you to have it more than you wanted it yourself. he wanted you to know that he only felt comfortable enough with you to be in such a vulnerable position like this — pretty woman, teeth so close to his jewels. he wanted you to know that you were setting every nerve, vein, blood vessel on absolute fucking fire with the way your silky tongue slid down the length of his shaft, and the way your tight, warm throat enclosed around his sensitive cock... he wanted you to know how much he adored you, and how much he wanted to give you everything you had ever wanted.

"fuck, sweetheart —" he bit. "I'm so close — you better — pull off —"

"too much for you, cowboy?" she only pulled off for a second, before she put him into the deepest parts of her throat.

the way you teased him set a raw set of anger and adoration through this veins, and he didn't know what to do with it. he was so weak, tired, spent, and fucking horny — he couldn't move, think, or fight back. all he wanted was to cum down this sweet girl's throat and make her his.

"that's it, baby, fuck —" he spat through gritted teeth, the hands on the back of your head encouraging your movements. "right there, right there — fuck."

you held your place, keeping a few inches of him in your mouth. his thick cock throbbed a few times before ropes of white decorated the walls of your throat, and you swallowed every last drop. you pumped him a few more times, for good measure — and also to get back at him for earlier.

"don't be mean to me, baby —" he whined. "come up and lay with me."

you giggled, crawling up the bed to lay next to him.

"gonna tell me how that was?" you asked. "or too proud?"

he chuckled then. his post orgasm glow was so beautiful... for the first time, william h. bonney didn't have a permanent from embedded in his brow. he looked so... peaceful.

"not too proud to admit that was the best I've ever had in my life," he laughed, letting his eyes close. you trailed a hand up and down the soft skin of his chest and stomach before curling up next to him. "going to be proud after i take you to the courthouse tomorrow and make you my wife."

you scoffed at that. "i didn't think cowboys were the settling down type."

"they're not — but i'm no cowboy, sweetheart," he rasped, turning to look at you. "you're it for me — if you'll have me, that is."

you smiled then. a real smile. the type of smile that gave billy hope.

"on one condition," you spoke.

his eyebrows furrowed, but he nodded his head anyway.

"you'll ask me for real in the morning, mr. bonney."

"i'll give you anything you want, mrs. bonney — as long as you're mine."

---

what did we think?? xox

-L

[book-place]

Accidents Happen

Warnings: hospitals, mentions of injuries, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Avengers x reader platonic

Request: Hi hi! Can you please do a avengers x little reader? R is 6 and maybe Natasha or peter drop her off at school but a few hours after school starts they get a call saying she had an accident and got injured badly. So the whole team shows up at the school to rush her to the Emergency room and the person who dropped R off feels really guilty but the R tells them it wasn't their fault (also could R be wise for her age?) Anyways thanks feel free to ignore this or change some things thank you!

Request by: Anon

*not my gif*

Summary: Nat blames herself for the accident you had at school that causes the entire team to rush to the hospital

A/N: I loved writing this

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

“Thank you, Nattie!” You called, scrambling out of the backseat and sending a wide, toothy grin to the redhead.

Natasha smiled at you fondly, “You’re welcome, n/n, have a good day.”

You closed the car door and turned on your heels hurrying towards the entrance, excited for school to start. The woman couldn’t help but chuckle, you’re the only kid she’s ever met that’s been happy to go learn, especially at six years old.

She watched from the car until the entrance door swung shut softly behind you before she put the car into drive once more and set off to begin her no doubt long day, though a soft smile still lingered on her lips from her interaction with you.

-•-

“Where the hell is she?”

“What’s going on?”

“Do you know who I am? I could have you fired with the snap of my fingers!”

“This place is full of so many puny humans, and yet not a single one of them is giving me a straight answer!”

The outraged roars of Earth’s mightiests heroes might not have been what anyone in the hospital was expecting in the middle of the day, but to be fair- they were beyond stressed and concerned. They had no idea what was going on, not really.

About fifteen minutes ago, Natasha had received a phone call from your school- her being your emergency contact- in the middle of a debrief with her teammates. The principal on the other side of the phone had been very vague as she informed the woman that she had been in an accident and was rushed in an ambulance to the nearest hospital, all but hanging up before Romanoff could fire off any one of the thousands of questions racing through her mind.

Chaos had followed that phone call, the avengers all scrambling around, trying to get to the hospital as quickly as possible with no real direction as to what was going on.

So now, they stood in the lobby, anger and worry etched onto each of their faces respectively as they swung around in circles, demanding answers from any of the many people working there.

Bucky and Thor both looked seconds away from lunging towards the closest doctor and shaking them until they gave them an explanation and to point them in your direction.

Tony was sneering at every person that passed, trying to intimidate them while Steve tried to ask questions as calmly as he could. Clint looked seconds away from diving through the doors dedicated to doctors only.

The only one that was silent was Natasha. She stood in the middle of the chaos with her arms pulled around her stomach, face paler than normal and looking as though she might be sick.

She had dropped you off this morning. She had been the one to leave you at that school without a second thought. How could she not realize that something would go wrong? She always had a sixth about that kind of stuff.

And now, because of her lack of realization, you were somewhere in this vast building, lying in a hospital bed, all alone- probably scared. And she didn’t even know if you were alright.

“Miss. Romanoff?”

The voice automatically silenced all of the avengers and they all whipped in the direction of it.

The doctor who spoke, to her credit, didn’t look the least bit intimidated at being stared down by the people, instead glanced down at her clipboard, “You’re here to see Y/n L/n, correct?”

Natashas head immediately bobbed up and down, moving forward, fear gripping her heart, “Is she okay?”

A sympathetic and reassuring smile appeared on the woman’s face, “She’s going to be fine,” She assured the group.

Everyone's muscles immediately loosened and Natahsa felt a shaky breath leave her lips as fear's grip loosened a bit on her heart.

“What happened?” Tony demanded, still not fully convinced.

With an incline of her head, the avengers all piled after the doctor as she led them through the workers only door, “She was in an accident at school. Apparently she had been trying to jump to the monkey bars at recess, but misjudged the distance and landed at the wrong angle on the metal pole of the jungle gym, hitting her head. She was knocked out, so the school called us. She has a concussion, but she’ll be fine in a few weeks if you take the proper precautions. We can discuss those later.”

There it was again, the fear and worry and guilt that was consuming the redheads entire being. She could tell by their reactions that her team was feeling the same.

“Right in here.” The doctor cast them one last smile before leaving them at the door of your room.

Immediately, Bucky all but threw the door open and everyone rushed in, crowding into the small room.

Natahsa pulled up short at the sight of you, lying in the hospital bed, looking smaller than normal surrounded by all the big equipment in the oversized bed.

You turned your head with wide eyes at the sound of footsteps, but relaxed into a smile when you saw who it was.

“Hi, guys,” You piped happily- as if nothing happened- but your voice was a bit weaker than normal.

“Oh, n/n,” Nat breathed out, immediately falling to your side, crouching down, grasping your hand in hers and squeezing it, “Are you okay?”

You nodded, smiling up at the woman, “I’m fine, my head just hurts.”

The woman frowned, smoothing back your hair from your forehead, “Do you need anything?”

Apparently, the team had caught onto Romanoffs feelings of guilt a while ago, because they exited the room at that moment, knowing that they should give her some space with you for a few minutes to sort through her emotions. They hated leaving you, but knew you would always be safe as long as Natasha was around.

You shook your head- slowly so as to not hurt yourself more, “I’m fine.” You promised, “I’m happy you’re all here.”

A shaky breath once again slipped from the woman's lips, “I’m so sorry,” Her eyes were welled up with tears.

It was then your turn to frown, confusion pulling your eyebrows down, “For what, Nattie?” You had no idea what she was talking about.

“If I hadn’t left you today, if I had known that something was wrong, I never would’ve left you.” A single tear slipped down her cheek as she squeezed her eyes shut and put your still intertwined hands to her forehead.

You squeezed her hand once, “It’s not your fault, Nattie, you couldn’t have known.” You were smiling kindly at her now.

“But-”

You shook your head stubbornly, a trait she often wondered if you got it from her, “It’s not your fault. It could’ve happened to anyone and there’s no way to tell if or when it’ll happen. Accidents happen.” You insisted.

A shaky huff of a laugh left her lips as she pressed a kiss to your forehead, “When did you get so wise?”

A wide grin appeared on your face, “I always have been, you’re just noticing now.”

We Are Groot 🤎- @lovanitu @jvdethirlwall @ineedmorefanfics2 @sambucky8 @spidyyparker @irethepotato @femalemarvelself @mukbee @its-hell @ip747 @i-writes-things @popfishjr @mitsuki-murakami @mythixmagic @ladyagagaslefttoe @etanordoesbullsh1t @wolfmoonmusic @nutellani @hyunzrii @scarthefangirl

[ch0k3herwithaseaview]

@jegulus-microfic | feb 7 star | words: 1037

Hi so I went a bit overboard with this one but I’m having so much fun writing those you guys have no idea

Anyways enjoy <3

GUYS IT HAS PART 2 NOW WTFFF

James

pads i need you to come here like RIGHT NOW

Pads

???

Who are you?

James looked at the message confused.

James

your best friend?? who needs your help with your dog?????

Pads

Wrong number.

Now he was super confused. He talked with Sirius this morning. He called this number and he talked with Sirius.

James

this is really not the time for pranks pads

moony isnt answering his phone and gigi is vomiting all over my place

what do i do???????

The answer didn’t come right away, but when it did his confusion grew even further. He was trying to give the poor Gigi a bowl to puke into when he read ‘I might know what happened. Send me the address, I’m coming over.’ Without thinking twice he shared his location with the person who was supposed be his best mate. After that, he put down his phone and went back to calming Gigi and giving her some water. If it works for people, it should work for a dog, right? RIGHT???

15 minutes later he heard the doorbell ring and that’s when it hit him. Sirius knows where he lives. Sirius wouldn’t take this long to get to his precious child, as he calls the black mass of fur on James’ carpet. This really wasn’t Sirius.

His first reaction was panic - who the fuck did he send his address to? Then he thought he could pretend he’s not here. But what about Gigi?

When the doorbell rang for the second time, he decided to text that person.

James

who are you again?

Pads

Open the door. I’m not going to kill you.

Or am I?

Now he was scared. Although it was a bit funny, he had to give them that.

Slowly he went to the door, checking in the viewfinder who is on the other side. Unfortunately the person had their back turned to him so it didn’t give him anything. With shaky hands he turned the key and opened the doors with a gentle creak. Hearing that, the person in front of him turned and- wow.

The snow-white face was surrounded by a delicate halo of black waves. His strong jaw and sharp cheekbones could make him look rough if it weren't for his soft, pink lips, turned up in a gentle smile, and his eyes. Eyes in which you could immerse yourself as if in an endless, silvery cloud of stardust.

“Hi there, Sunshine” Sirius’ younger brother said passive-aggressively. Ah, nothing has changed since school. Also, it would explain the ‘wrong number’’ thing. Somehow?

“Hello, Little Star” James replied with a nervous smile, after clearing his throat several times. They stayed there in the doorway for few seconds, intense enough to make it feel like hours.

Finally, James cleared his throat for the last time and turned, letting Regulus in. “Thank god you’re not a murderer” he laughed lightly as he led his guest (his one-man-rescue-team?) to the living room, where Gigi was shaking under fluffy blanket.

“Did you give her something?” Regulus asked, kneeling next to the poor thing.

“What? No! Why and what would I give her?” James burst out, terrified of the accusation. What if he accidentally gave her something he shouldn’t have and now she’s going to die? That would mean he was going to die shortly after. Oh no, oh no, oh-

“Calm down, I was just making sure. Look at your carpet” Reg grumbled pointing at the destroyed thing.

“Yeah, I know - she puked at it like a thousand times. No need to point it out” James huffed, now irritated a bit by Regulus’ rudeness.

“I- That’s not what I meant” shorter man laughed softly, such a sweet sound. “She ate a pice of it, look at the right corner.”

“What do you- oh” in the whole mess oh vomits he didn’t even notice a part of the carpet disappeared. “So she was just-“

“Clearing her stomach, yeah” Reg smiled at him crookedly. “She did the same to my shoe last week. Just give her some water for now and we’ll take her to the vet.”

“What do you mean we? I can handle a vet appointment” James said, pouring some water for his goddaughter (yes, she’s his goddaughter, fuck off).

“No, you can’t. Now take her, I’ll drive” Regulus said strutting out of the room. James just lifted the, whatsoever, heavy dog and ran after his best friend’s brother.

He asked Reg to close the door behind them and take the key. The clinic wasn’t far away from his flat, but either way it felt like forever to get there since Regulus refused to talk to him, because ‘it distracts him’.

When they finally got there, the vet just laughed at them for coming to her for the second time in a week and cooed at Gigi, mumbling something about her ’cool uncles not being very good for her’ (hopefully jokingly but who knows). She checked if Gigi was alright, gave her some medicine and asked them to come in few days for checkup.

Walking out of the clinic Regulus asked James if he needed any help with cleaning up after Gigi’s accident.

“Actually yeah, would you help me?” he replied with hopeful eyes.

“I literally just suggested that” Reg said, rolling his eyes.

So, they did just that. They rolled the destroyed carpet, cleaned the floor and some of the mess left on the sofa Gigi was sleeping soundly in the corner of.

When they finished, Regulus went to the door, with James thanking him all the way down the hall. They stood in the doorway again, same intense silence between them as before.

Reg cleared his throat. “So, I’m gonna go now. Bye.”

James nodded slightly. “Thanks again” he said once more, getting a fond eye roll from the other man. With that Regulus turned and went to the elevator. Then…

“Hey, Reg?” He turned again, one brow raised. James gather himself, swallowed thickly and on the exhale, almost shy, he asked “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

The younger man stood there, both brows raised now. Slowly he smiled at James and nodded.

“I would love to, actually.”

[mistydeyes]

cold coffee and sloppy notes

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summary: As the 141 returns home, they're always more than happy to support their favorite student as you work towards your degree.

pairing: Task Force 141 x student!civ!Reader

warnings: none :) all fluff

a/n: i thought this was fitting as i'm now officially back in school! good luck to everyone who is also heading back and feel free to reach out if you need any help or just want to destress :)

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price - defending your thesis

"How's it going in here, love?" John asked as he entered the living room. He observed the TV that had your thesis defense presentation and the collection of papers and notecards on the table. "It's…okay?" you said, almost questionably. In fact, it was not okay. You had gone over your presentation to the fictional group of panelists thousands of times but always tripped up on your words. He could sense your distress and enveloped you in a comforting hug. "Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked as he rubbed your back lightly. "I don't know," you mumbled, "I just need to get this presentation down." He took a step back and made his way to the couch. "Then present it to me, and I'll give you some feedback."

“Good morning panelists,” you began nervously as you clasped your hands together. “Take a deep breath,” John corrected and you sighed before taking a seat next to him. He placed a comforting arm around your shoulder before you leaned into his side. “What if they don’t approve of my research?” you shakily spoke as your mind flooded with the possibility. You had spent 4 years researching this topic and the only thing in between you and your doctorate was your thesis defense. “Well you can’t go in like that,” he advised, “researchers can smell fear.” You lightly punched his shoulder as you both laughed. “I’m serious!” you exclaimed, “What if they tell me I wasted all these years?” You sighed again and he placed a gentle hand on your cheek. “You’re the expert on this topic, you just have to show them that,” he reassured and you smiled back to his soft gaze. You spent a few moments like this before getting up again and trying to go through your presentation.

You looked down at the coffee table of notes before John snatched them in his hand. He held them gently in his lap before looking back at you. You were about to object when he placed a finger to his mouth. “Love, if you keep a script then you’re going to sound like wet cardboard,” he explained as your face twisted in a mix of emotions, “I doubt they’d want to sit through another boring defense.” You took a moment to compose yourself before he gestured for you to start again. “Good morning panelists,” you repeated, with more vigor than the last time, “I am Y/N, a Ph.D. candidate in the Department of…” Even if tomorrow you left as a candidate, you knew that you would have John’s unwavering support through it all.

soap - mathematics work

As you lay on the loveseat with Johnny, you groaned loudly. You stomped your feet childishly on his lap which caught his attention. He looked up from his phone as you frustratingly erased at the paper. "You alright?" he asked and you shook your head. This assignment for your maths class had taken you hours and you still could not figure it out. The words on the page began to blend together and you were at a loss of where to start. "I don't understand why I took a maths class," you mumbled and put your forearms above your head. Soap patted your leg reassuringly before trying to peek a look at your notebook. "Let me take a look," he offered and you couldn't help but laugh.

“Thanks, babe but I don’t know if you can help,” you said, chewing on the end of your pencil. “Try me,” he joked as he looked at you. Deciding it didn't hurt to let him try, you threw over your notebook with impossible equations and problem sets. You took the time to check your phone and take a break from your calculations. After a few moments of him thinking out loud and throwing out various “hmmmms” and “I sees,” you sighed as if you were wasting his time. You were about to take the notebook back when he hit a eureka moment. “Pencil me,” he commanded and you passed it over to him. After a few more scribbles and mental math, he presented you with the solution. “Here ya go,” he said smiling and you couldn’t believe he found an answer. Your eyes scanned over the sloppy handwriting but you were able to see it followed the equation you had learned and the answer was reasonable.

“How-how did you do that?” you asked as you looked over his work. You hoped it was correct but we’re at a loss for his sudden stroke of genius. “‘m more than just a pretty face,” he joked and you pushed you eyed him suspiciously. “I’m serious, Johnny.” “Think ‘bout it, my job is all about maths,” he explained, “demolitions is about figuring out how much ya need, how big the building is, and where the pressure points are.” You shook your head in disbelief. He was right after all, geometry was so integral to many professions even if you didn’t enjoy it. "Thank you," you smiled and leaned forward to give him a quick kiss, "might just ask for your help on all my assignments."

gaz - studying

Kyle returned from the kitchen with two cups of tea, surprised to find you had overtaken the living room floor with your textbooks, notes, and electronics. You had been at it for hours now and Kyle was more than happy to make dinner and clean your flat while you worked. The room was filled with a mix of classical music and lo-fi beats. Somewhere in there, he could've sworn he heard the Coconut Mall theme song. "Hey, you," he called and you looked up at him. He noticed the bags around your eyes as you pushed back your blue light glasses. "How's it going," you weakly asked and motioned for him to sit. You shuffled a few papers around on the couch behind you as he maneuvered through the mess.

He placed your favorite cup of tea down on the glass table before settling on the comfortable seat. You sipped it gently and savored the taste. "Decaf?" you asked, looking back at him, and he nodded. "I don't think you need more caffeine," he chided as you rolled your eyes in response. "I just have so much to do," you replied before looking back down at your organized mess. You always dreaded finals season and would procrastinate studying until the last week. Despite having copious amounts of notes, you were at a loss to remember all the material asked of you. You wished there were more hours in the day to study.

“Love, you should rest,” Kyle gently suggested as he put a hand on your shoulder. You leaned back into his touch, groaning at the eye strain and the now persistent headache. “I don’t know if I’m ready,” you whispered, trying to overcome your anxiety and disappointment in your lackluster study habits. Kyle massaged your shoulders as you closed your eyes. “We’ll wake up early tomorrow and I can help you study in one of those cafes you love,” he offered and you nodded with a smile on your face. As you relaxed into his soothing motions, he stopped before cupping your tired face. “Let’s go to bed and start again tomorrow, yeah?” you again nodded, this time eyes heavy with sleep, before you followed him to bed.

ghost - reading and revising

When you were nose-deep in a textbook heavier than his tac vest, Simon knew to vacate the room. You were a model student and Simon would always let you know when he returned home. While you loved seeing your boyfriend, you also enjoyed his clean flat without any flatmates. You’d often lug your materials to his and request a table to organize everything. After five minutes, Simon would walk by to see you with a stack of textbooks to your side and your iPad propped up in the center of the oak table. He also noted the sticky tabs and highlighters organized by some unknown hierarchy delicately placed in arms reach. You were your own tour-de-force and with your large headphones, it was only you and your revisions in this world.

Simon didn't mind the peaceful atmosphere. It often allowed him time to clean his flat from the accumulating dust or exercise in his bedroom. "Just tell me if I'm being too loud," he'd whisper before you put on your headphones, tuning out the world. He would leave you until you finished or you found him in another room. It was a functional routine and Simon enjoyed it. This time, you had a large exam coming up and Simon had run out of errands and chores to do. As he entered the room with some paperwork in hand, you nodded in approval before returning to your work. Every so often, he would look over at your hunched-over figure and smile to himself.

Eventually, as the sun began to set, Simon decided to return to the paperwork another day. He closed up the manila envelopes before stretching slightly and making his way to the door. He was pondering what to order for dinner when he heard you take off your headphones. “Can you stay?” you said, barely over a whisper and Simon stopped in his tracks. He looked over to you but your eyes remained trained on the minuscule font. “You want me to stay?” he questioned as he walked back over to the couch. As he reclined himself on the seat, you looked up. “If you don’t mind,” you smiled, “your presence is reassuring.” Simon let out a soft chuckle at your explanation. It wasn’t every day someone told him he was a comforting presence in the room. "I can stay for few," he replied, "but we're getting dinner in an hour and you're taking a break." He laughed as you shooed him away with your hand before returning to your productive state. Simon closed his eyes and rested, knowing you wouldn't mind. Hopefully, your headphones were loud enough to drown out his snoring.

[pedriscroquettes]

The thought I can NEVER get out of my head for academic rivals is when both of them end up putting their brilliant minds together to solve one thing can we get that w academic rivals gavi plsplspls 😭

here you go anon bae <3

warnings. business class mentions & suggestive content 18+

a/n. literally went through the depths of pinterest to find pictures of gavi in this specific suit. spain needs to bring these suits back idk.

lightly tapping your pen against your lips you kept analyzing the last question on your presentation. while gavi flipped through his many notes trying to find any piece of information that could back up his claim. the two of you had never been paired up for a project before so the newfound territory was not helping either of you. in retrospect the question was quite simple all the two of you had to do was pick the best business offer of the three given to you.

“it’s the third option-” gavi starts

“what? no it’s not.” you scoff. “if our business chose that offer we’d lose more than twenty percent of our ownership.”

“okay, yeah but they’re giving us over a half a million euros plus additional funding for marketing purposes. it’s a really good deal if you think about it.” he stands up from your desk making his way towards your bed.

“not when our company has already made over five million in sales in just one year. we’re fine in the marketing department. yes, we need the money but we also shouldn’t be giving up such a high stake of our company. it’s too risky.” you try to reason as he stares up at you. the red tie from your school uniform making his brown eyes pop out.

“okay fine. which option do you find more appealing then?” he grabs his pen pointing it at you. “and it better not be the first option.”

“well obviously not. it’s clearly the second option. we’re only giving up ten percent of the company and they’re giving us over three-hundred thousand euros which is more than what we need to expand our warehouses. not to mention they’ve also helped thousands of other local companies become big names around the country. it’s the smart choice.” you type down your reasoning as you explain it.

“you know…” he leans over you carefully removing your laptop from your lap. “you get ten times more attractive when you do that.”

“do what?” you look up at him and notice his smirk.

“when you take your work all seriously like that. our company isn’t even real.” he teases you. “it’s so hot.”

you barely have time to react before his lips on yours your hands making their way towards his hair like second nature. his hands trails from your cheeks to your neck before making their way to your ass. you gasp into the kiss as he gropes your ass, the brunette using it as the perfect opportunity to leave a trail of kisses from your mouth to your neck.

“well one of us has to- fuck...” you can barely speak as he places kisses on your neck. “to be the smarter one out of the two.”

“oh, so now you’re the smarter one? i recall you calling me asking me for help-” he tries to tease you.

“you know now that i remember you left your stinky uniform here the other day. maybe you should go take care of that.” you push him off you. “i don’t want my room smelling like sweaty athlete.”

you walk him towards the laundry room dropping off some of your clothes as well. he watched intently as you place his clothes in the washer and carefully pour in some detergent. the act feeling too domestic. he wondered how you could possibly take care of him while you still had your own problems going on. you were too good for him.

“have you ever done it on top of the dryer?” he sneaks up on you.

“you’re disgusting pablo.” you shove him away.

“oh, come on.” he grins.

[sourholland]

WELCOME TO THE STYLE MASTERLIST

series based off of taylor swift’s song style

Summary → He’s the Quarterback of the Cincinnati Bengals, a worldwide heartthrob with an ego the size of Lake Erie—but does he have the heart to match it? You’re the Bengals newest cheerleader, desperate to prove how much you deserve your spot on the team. It doesn’t take much to catch the eye of Joe Burrow, however that isn’t necessarily a good thing when you’re told that any romantic relations between cheerleaders and players is strictly prohibited.

AN → Honestly this idea came to me pretty suddenly, it wasn’t very premeditated. I’m not sure anyone will be interested in reading it, this is me kinda testing the waters. I’m just going through a crazy sad breakup so I’m kinda just trying to get back into the things I love to do, writing being one of them. Also, I kinda just want to get my mind off stuff and who doesn’t love Joe Burrow haha. As always, let me know to be added to the tag list :)

Pairing(s) → Joe Burrow x Fem!Reader

Warnings → Strong Language, Alcohol Use, Mature Themes/NSFW Themes, Angst, Injury, Forbidden Love, More to Come

PLAYLIST

PART ONE - No Headlights

PART TWO - Good Girl

PART THREE - James Dean

PART FOUR - His Wild Eyes

PART FIVE - Taking Off His Coat

PART SIX - Tell You To Leave

Teaser →

After a rigorous auditioning process with over a thousand girls trying to earn their spot on the Bengal’s Cheerleading Squad, only forty made the cut. Most returners, some new like yourself. You’d watched girls break bones, continuing to audition on them to have a shot on the squad. Many left in tears, cut and sent home with hardly any reason why.

There was a little bit of metaphorical survivor’s guilt after you’d made the team, knowing this wasn’t your dream like it was for some others. This was only a season or two commitment for you while you finished up your last year of college. Then you’d become a teacher, something you’d had a passion for over the years. Cheerleading was more so a hobby, you’d danced all of your life and had cheered in high school. This wasn’t going to be your livelihood, nor did it offer you the funds to live off of for more than a short while.

There were plenty of rules to follow, many of which had you questioning if this was truly what you wanted. The handbook they’d given you was thick, although some of the girls had told you that they’d lessened up on the requirements over the years after a lawsuit had been filed. In the end, it wasn’t so bad. Tedious, but still a very surreal experience.

From about April to the middle of July, it was practice twice a week from 7:30 at night to about 11. There was a separate facility used to work and condition through the colder months, just following the Super Bowl. Once pre-season truly began, the whole team moved practice facilities. This put you in the same place as the Bengals practiced, giving you more field time than gym time to get acclimated. It was different, especially due to the fact that players and cheerleaders were placed at an arms length most of the time.

The afternoon of the first practice at the new stadium, you’d all been given the talk. This was basically your coaches and executives way of saying that if anyone found out that anyone off the squad had anything more than a friendly, professional relationship with one of the players—they’d be either cut or sanctioned. It was bad for the image of the team, making it bad for those in charge.

It shouldn’t have been a problem.

That first night practice in August was tough, you were coming off of a sprained ankle and the heat was blistering even at 8 at night. Amanda, your head coach, sent you inside to grab some ice from the athletic trainer to bring back out to the field. There was a stigma around the coaching and treatment of NFL cheerleaders, but you’d mostly had a decent experience so far. Your coaches did care that you were healthy and equipped to cheer.

Adorned in a slightly baggy Bengals T-shirt and spandex, you walked through the empty halls of the mostly deserted facility. The players had just ended their practice about an hour earlier, you watched them all exit into the locker room. That meant that mostly everyone had called it a night, heading home. The cheerleaders stayed late because practice was meant to be after work or class, it wasn’t a full-time job.

The door to the athletic trainers office was slightly ajar, the light on. Pushing it open slightly, you stepped in with furrowed eyebrows and a curious look. On the large medical table, ice in hand, sat Joe Borrow still in his practice jersey and shorts. The office was empty besides him, trainer nowhere to be seen.

He was a good looking guy, you’d give him that. Maybe it was the fact that he was 6’4 or maybe it was the fact that he was really fucking good at his sport. He looked up at you and gave a friendly grin, laying the ice on his knee.

“Emily said she was heading home about a half hour ago, her kid was sick or something so she had to pick him up from the babysitter,” Joe told you politely. “I came in just as she was like walking out, she just told me to lock up the office when I was done.”

Someone was clearly a rambler.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I was just going to grab some ice.”

He nodded and went silent while you walked over to the ice maker, taking the plastic scooper and putting some of it into a plastic bag. He was still looking at you, making it obvious as you saw him from your peripheral. Twisting the bag, you felt slightly awkward just standing there in silence.

“I’m Joe,” he spoke again.

“Y/N,” you turned back towards him. “It’s nice to meet you.”

He extended a hand towards you, smiling as you took it and shook it softly. When you broke from his grip, he remained looking at you. He was definitely one of those people who looked you right in the eyes through the entire conversation. You didn’t know if this made you particularly uncomfortable or slightly excited.

“You’re a cheerleader.”

“Was that a question?” You chuckled, “I think that’s pretty obvious.”

“No, no. I was kind of just thinking out loud.”

He was easily flustered, that much was obvious. He repositioned the bag of ice and looked back up at you with slightly pink cheeks. This made you want to crack a grin, feeling like you were talking to a boy for the first time ever or something.

“I should head back to practice,” you told him, watching him slowly nod in understanding.

“Yeah, of course,” Joe smiled. “It was nice meeting you, Y/N.”

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list :)

[istherewifiinhell]

scheduled hopefully for appropriate insanity causing hours

304 cant believe everyone in gin.tama just lives like this. the. speech convictions dramatic childhood flashbacks promises lifestyle. not just for main characters i guess (is this guy the shogun.....)

yay yay yippppppe the guys. yay ayay yippeee flashbacks. DONT DIE.

kaaaaaaruga. always suspected. if i understood her more id be obsessed. Confirmed. 2 second in pulling that. i was waiting for ur weakness bullshit. BEAT UP UR OLDER BROTHER. (<- comma. gay? ) kagura born on this planet.... half a second of taka.gin grappling could sustain me for a life time (gin puts his hands on him to throw him) hey fellas i know this is the Sword Penis show but have u considered going at it meg.op. style. for me?

omg baby flashback leftest infighting. sugi ur not the most oppressed person in the world u know. well u would say that scholarship baby zura. diddddddd they shape each others ideologies like that. where they reading theory together as shitty little kids -> well prob not this show but lets indulge

oh right gin former. ghost eating thing. showing up to the school yard beef with a real sword.

HI SHOU.YOU. HI. his little pogchamps

loveeee how they do the blood in this show looks like velvet, alll dark shimmery. also the editing. wooooo.

bushido speech. this shit is cool actually. also leon.ardo the ninja turtle would love it (03)

zura giving him fooooood oh no. little. verbal redirects of kindness transparency

NOOOO SUGI beats gin for the first time clip NO NONO SUGI LAUGHING SLOW MO CLIP (already tearing up)

ahhhh the position of the school and the attitudes of the backgrounder kids actually very affecting and interesting isnt it.... shou.youuuuuuuu the man(thing) that u are....

ep. 305

theeeeee babies. the babies.... the babiest guys. so so charmedddd by them charmeddd again by how. unexpected? maybe. sugi and zura stick together.... the remainers..... kidtoki why are uuuu such a perfectly cromulent. thing. little. video game character ass look. perfect. shitty cool affect. wanna pinch his little cheeks 10/10 letting this kid be the leader of the playground gang.

shou.youuuuuu shou.youuuuuu. such a. believably. man with his complexities but hes being around children so (friendly voice) 'thats right. what do you think' sooooo. yeah immediately believes 100 thousand percent he means everything he says so truly yeah i probably would get. horrible weird trauma give the givens too

THROW THE SWORDS AWAY YAYYYYYY. flashback. ohhhhhhh sugi. i little. weird bitch (said in. desperate scrambling fondness. i love the things that are wrong with him)

gin boots are so hot...

SOMEONE INTIMATE TO CUT AND CURSE!!!!!!! ohhhhh babes (what could i possible say abt it that hasnt been said) well i hope they fuck themselves to death about it

fightscene styles gt vs tf <- place holder i left for myself. that will be extricated to a diff post.

gin scrambling in the blood and dirt under all the promises he has given his loved one. YES BABE. thats exactly what ur supposed to be going

ohhhhhh godddddddd the fucking beheading scene back to back from both of their perspectives oh jesus fuck oh hell. im going to. cut and curse at someone else. i guess. THANKS HIM. THANKS HIM FOR IT. (crying) cool. thats normal. i feel normal about the man (shou.you)(gin)

what the fuck. oboro real? thats fucked up. THATS WHO TAKES THE EYE? (knew this techincally) WHO THE FUCK IS OBORO. (am seeing him) why is he a grown ass man i thought he was a kicked dog of a boy.

SUGI. SUGI YOU DUMB BITCH (loves him)(loves intractable positions)(loves the emotional incommunicability of reality)(loves an emotional confliction you can never resolve and just have to die about) he did it to save u fucking losers. cause his fucking teacher dad man asked him too. and thanked him for the service. ohhhhh u miserable fucks

why did you SAVE US. say it like that. damn.

oh youd do anything. youd kill shou.you. youd kill sugi himself. just to save the student your teacher loved. okay. okay. jesus. so you are the same. so your exactly the same person. your saying things that dont even make sense youve both lost any plane of reality cause you cant separate the things youve lost from the things you have. the very people youve saved are now reflected in those youve lost and youll both kill them to keep them alive. okay. no yeah thats fine cool lol.

(i guess sugis version would technically be said in reverse, you cant separate what youve have from what youve lost and the very person you lost are reflect in the one who saved you. and to keep him alive (crying gin.toki) youd kill him)

and MOST IMPORTANTLY. because you are the same person. you see yourself in him and him in yourself and u cant figure out where you end and he begins and your diametric opposed mirror reflection goals that lead you to taking. the exact same actions. okay. lol. OKAY. lol.

WHO THE FUCK IS OBORO. GET OUT OF HERE FREAK. i was talking.

id alt. im always saying this. or even just. Why is Oboro.

ep 306

heyyyyyy kagura! hiiiiii. youre not dead yay! hi. older brother. youre still here.

squints ohhhh these are. the cops? mayo man and. is this the other canonical gay sex haver or. (only has the normalest of second hand knowledge)

'if im just gonna end up as fertilizer anyway, i dont care if my path there is paved by roses or thorns.' damn dude. get out of the fucking. whatever ur in. and go become a metal music lyricist. what the fuck

oh shin.pachi. ur in this show.

googling. cant figure it out. whoever this green zombie bitch is sounds familiar. wish he had a name or smth.

damn there really is space in this show huh. thats crazy thats crazy. planet of the big hats vs planet of. umbrellas? anyone wanna watch space military anime.....

shogun 'i will protect the country were my friends live' what kagura said abt the planet. 'and to fulfill that goal, you'll even endure the deaths of your friends here?' gestures at the shou.you trolley problem. wow. that is tidy. good job recursive gin.tama

why do you grip that broken sword. you killed your teacher. you battled your friend. - my enemy is right here. WEVE NEVER CHANGED. weve all been fighting our own selves. ill stop him. even if it means having to kill him. but im also the one who understands how he feels better than anyone else

ohhhhhh gin. tama. ohhhhh gin. toki. i love u. i love u so much for just. saying insane thesis shit. like. yeah! YEAH OKAY! yeah thats. making out sloppy style with the narrative theming <- what do i mean by that.

be it killing him or protecting him. their both my job (gets so hard i pass out)

gin: says the most homoerotic twisted identity shit ive ever heard in my life that rests solely on. how unextractable gin. and sugi both are from each other due to. their love of shou.you. and thus. reflectionally. each other. oboro: his students are burning with hatred. <- IS HE STUPID?

and second question. upon reflection, looking at this grown ass man thing. do we have a classic ninja turtles adult beefing with teenagers situation. please tell me yes i will roast this man to shit.

(sugi also say gay twisted identity shit) [impact image font] we are. we are going to beat you to death.

[ending bumper comedy thing] u cannot deny their commitment to the bittism. need this shit for my annoying nitpick continuity fandoms. yeah no it was cause he pooped his pants. he shitted and farted.

[themultifandomgal]

Hi love, can i request one for peaky blinders? Where y/n is in school with Finn and he knows she’s struggling at home so he asks Tommy and the others if they can get her a job or something to help her out. So maybe she gets to clean at the Garrisons and/or maybe watch John’s kids. One night when he gets home late she stays and help him clean up and maybe something happens. Then he says he doesn’t need any help with the kids anymore. Cause he feels bad dragging her in to that life and taking care of his kids and all. But everytime they meet they can’t keep away from eachother.. they end up together maybe Tommy speaks some sense into John or have a talk with y/ns parents to let her marry John? You can do with this idea what you like? I would love to read it!

John Shelby- Can’t Stay Away

Hey! So I changed it a little because of the ages hope that ok so instead of being in school with Finn YN went to school with John and they stayed good friends.

John and I have been friend since we were 4 years old when we started school. My home life wasn’t always great, my father was an alcoholic and my mother was abusive. Mrs Shelby ended up most evening cooking me meals, making sure I had clean clothes. When she passed away it broke all of us.

After wanting to leave my home, Polly gave me a place to live, but finding a job was very hard so I ended up marrying a man who I didn’t love, but he passed away during the war. Tommy got me a job at the Garrison and after Martha passed away I started helping John look after his kids, which caused me to start catching feelings for him. I’ve been doing this now nearly every other day, picking the kids up from school.

Today was no different. I just put them all to bed when John finally comes home

“Hey” I smile at him “have you eaten anything? There’s left overs….”

“I’m getting married” he blurts out making me stop walking towards the kitchen. I turn around with a frown on my face, my heart feels like it’s been crushed into thousands of tiny pieces 

“Oh” is all I can say

“It’s errr Lizzie. Lizzie Stark”

“What?” Lizzie? The woman who’s slept with all of the Shelby brothers, well all except Finn as he’s like 12

“Yeah so errr I don’t need to to help out anymore”

“Oh. Ok erm well I’ll erm see you round then” not really knowing what to say I give John a small smile “congratulations John. I hope she makes you happy” I quickly grab my coat and leave Johns house before he can see that my eyes are starting to tear up.

Over the next few days YN tries her best to stay away from John, but she just can’t. Not only is that her best friend but she loves him. Tommy being so wise knows how YN feels, but he also knows John also has feelings for his best friend. He’s just being stubborn.

Tommy and his brothers are sat in the snug at the Garrison nursing a whiskey

“She’s gonna change”

“She’s not. I offered her money and she took it”

“Fuck!” John yells running his hands over his face

“But ya know who wouldn’t take the money… YN”

“Tom…”

“Tommys right John. That girl loves you. She has from the day you met”

“But she got married” John frowns at his Aunt who rolls her eyes

“Men… she married because you got married”

“But…”

“Yes you did the right thing, but did you love Martha?”

“Of course I did”

“Like the way you love YN?” Tommy ask

“I….”

“Your a fool if you marry Lizzie” Arthur comments downing his whiskey. Just then there’s a knock on the door and YN walks in

“Hey I’m just about to go, but is there anything else you want before I leave?” YN asks looking around, mainly looking at John

“No thank you love. We’ll see you tomorrow” Polly smiles. YN nods her head and says bye to everyone before walking out. Tommy looks at John who’s staring at the door of the snug. Tommy then looks at the door then back at John

“Bloody hell, go after her!” John quickly gets up and leaves the room as quick as he can. Tommy downs his whiskey “thank fuck for that”.

John runs down the street shouting YN’s name. YN stops and turns round confused to why John is runnin after her. Had she forgotten something?

“John?” but before anything else could be said Johns lips are immediately on YN’s. YN pulls back still feeling confused “why did you do that?”

“Because I’ve finally had some sense knocked into me. I love you YN. I can’t stay away from you. It’s you I want to marry, to help look after my kids and maybe even had kids with… that’s if you’ll let me?”

“What about Lizzie?” YN asks

“I’ll break it off with her, I promise, but…” John then gets down on one knee “will you marry me?”

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted to hear. Of course I will” with that John gets up and spins YN round, kissing her lips. Little did the couple know that Tommy had also left the Garrison hoping to catch a glimpse of the two. He won’t ever tell anyone, but he did smile when he saw his brother and YN happy in each other’s arms finally.

[ghouldtime]

Hello again! Since you said that you HC König to be Styrian, do you think he'd be the kind of person to sometimes speak his dialect with reader to tease them a little? The dialect is kinda hard to understand for people, who only speak High German (the German you find in texts and the one you're taught at school and stuff). Because I speak with a dialect as well and I'd love nothing more than to banter with König in our Austrian dialect together! Of course, there's a thousand dialects in Austria! So, someone from Styria has a hard time understanding someone from Vorarlberg, but still! (Also, because I HC him from the southern part of Styria, I like to imagine he "barks" a little when he speaks! It's gotten better as he grew up, but when he gets drunk he still barks, which makes it harder to understand him! It's really hard to understand some people from southern Styria >.< Are we allowed to share our own HCs with you? I just thought it'd make sense since I am Austrian! Not trying to sound entitled or anything, of course! But I just love giving him HCs of things I'm familiar with :>)

Anyway, sorry for the long ask! Have a nice day! ^^

💚💚💚💚💚 HELLLLOO it's great to see you back again :D I hope you're doing well! Also prefacing this with I'm an American so I'm admittedly not the most well versed in everything Austrian! I do put in my research and know some but I haven't even been there so if I'm ever wrong, absolutely feel free to correct me (I try my best not to be totally ignorant)

To answer your question simply in one word: ABSOLUTELY. Caps, bold, and all.

Naturally, his default IS his dialect. That's what he grew up speaking, that's what he learned, that's what sounds the most correct to him. Yes, it's not the standard, but it's HIS standard.

If reader doesn't know his dialect or if he's going out of his way to be a bit of a little shit, he'll be teasing about it - he's got a sense of humor (as unconventional as it might be). Assuming reader is learning German, he of course will still be helpful with teaching! He'll speak the "textbook" standard, but he's still slipping his dialect in, especially if they're catching onto what he's saying and he wants to make a sly comment.

What did he just say? Oh, nothing, you'll figure it out :) .... eventually, in due time.... and maybe a few post it notes in your text books there...

If they already know German, he'll pretty much insist on his dialect and will maybe speak a bit slower if you're lucky. But he'll talk so much if he likes you, you'll catch on - sooner or later (all apart of his masterplan). He's far more comfortable speaking German so he naturally adopts a faster talking pace too to match

Side note Dialects are SO interesting. One of my pals is Norwegian and he'd look me dead in the eyes and switch to another dialect whenever I understood him. Frustrating, actually pretty hilarious, and gives me MORE incentive to learn and to try and figure it out. How a single language can vary so differently from place to place in the same country is very interesting to see and hear alike

(Also you're absolutely welcome to share head cannons with me anytime!! 💚💚💚 I love hearing them and I love seeing that people can relate and have their own experiences to add. It really adds depth when we know we're never getting more than the bare minimum and it's not entitled at all its so nice to hear these little details)

I'm absolutely on board with that head cannon and support it FULLY in every sense of the word. That's 110% HIM. Since he wasn't much of a talker as a kid too I think it certainly was much more pronounced for that reason before it lessened as he grew up, and especially had more exposure to his peers.

I adore niche head cannons like this, it's my bread and butter. Because you KNOW we'd not get that level of love and attention to detail with or from the game alone and it's just adding that extra pizzazz, that extra depth that he deserves

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚 If you don't mind, I'll adopt that for him because it's so perfect??? It's so him I just love the idea so so so much

[idontplaytrack]

Rejanis 4

(Number kiss thing)

✧ One kiss(is all it takes)

Janis ‘Imi’ike x Regina George

Warnings: coarse language, fluff, minor injury

“Kiss me.”

“Stop pouting, you baby.”

“I’m not a baby.”

“I’m almost ready, Reg. Cool your tits.” Janis snickered, placing her phone down on the credenza by the front door as she put her Converse on.

“I’m not saying anything.” Regina chuckles, “I am also not rushing you. I just called to tell you I was outside. You told me not to honk because you didn’t like that sound.”

Janis laughs again, “I know. Just messing around.”

“Mmkay, see you in a sec, baby.” With that, Regina hangs up. Janis grabs her keys, unlocks the door and heads out with her backpack slung over her shoulder. Skipping off the couple of steps on her porch, Janis makes eye contact with Regina as the blonde turns her head. “Hi, baby!”

“Hey!” Janis beamed, strolling down the frontyard. Then, she suddenly trips over something on the ground— a couple of branches and twigs, she thinks. She couldn’t have tripped over nothing. She’s walked down this path hundreds, if not thousands of times throughout her life. Regina let out a horrified scream, “What the fuck?! Are you okay?”

Janis swiftly got back up on her feet, dusting herself off, “I’m fine, I’m fine.” Within seconds, she got into the front passenger seat of Regina’s Jeep. Regina gives her a habitual kiss on the cheek, “If you’re sure.”

“Eh.” Shrugged the brunette as she buckled her seatbelt.

“Jan—” Regina seethed, “Your arm.”

“What?” Janis asked absentmindedly.

“There’s a red spot, baby. It’s gonna bruise.”

Janis admits, “I know.”

“What—”

“I’ll be fine, I just bruise easily.”

Regina squints, “Why? I mean? Yeah— why?”

“Apparently it’s a thing. Ehlers Danlos Syndrome.”

“Oh.” Regina nodded, she knew what that was— she’s heard of it, she’s looked it up, she just didn’t know Janis had it.

“It’s different for different people, but for me, one of the things is that if I get hurt? Bruises. Very quick.”

“I didn’t know you—”

“I didn’t either.” Janis said, “It’s a recent thing. Like three years, maybe? Dealt with it for as long as I could remember, though.”

“Okay…well, if you need anything let me know, please.”

Janis only nodded, blinking furiously as she tried to not give in to the fatigue. Yeah, she gets that too, even when she has enough sleep.

“I’m fine. If I’m not, you’ll know. I’m serious.”

“I just don’t want you to push yourself.”

“I get that.” Janis put her hand on Regina’s thigh, “But I will tell you if one of the symptoms I deal with gets bad. So, you’ll know. I promise.”

The rest of the drive was quiet, but it was comfortable silence which neither of them minded. Once at school, the pair went their separate ways for their classes. “I’ll see you in Home ec?” Regina pulls her in by the waist and presses a gentle kiss to her lips.

“Mhm.” Janis nodded, kissing her back, “See you in a bit.”

It was the norm for Janis to get bruises just about anywhere, without herself even realising it. She was a little clumsy, that’s just who she was. It never bothered her and it never will, but somehow…having Regina know that bit about her made her feel a little…warm and fuzzy inside that Regina cared about such a trivial thing.

Ever since she started dating Regina, she’s become more…okay with physical touch and affection. She honestly loved it, especially from Regina. Janis slid into her chair, backpack placed on the floor by her desk. With her phone in hand, she contemplates texting Regina just ‘cause.

Regina responded within a minute.

“I’m fine. Lol. Just not much to do at all in homeroom😂”

“😂 bored?”

“Yep. Wish we had more classes together😔”

“Clingy🙃”

“Ok. 😎”

“Awww, are you mad?”

“No…”

“If you say so👍”

Janis bites back a chuckle at that last text, she didn’t want to get told off for using her phone. Mrs. Norbury usually doesn’t care as long as the students weren’t disruptive. Then, she puts her phone down. Though thankfully, the time passed rather quickly. Janis saw Regina again before she realised. “Hiiii.” Janis briefly clung onto the blonde from behind, making her laugh.

Regina squints, turning around as she suppressed a laugh, “Are you…high?”

Janis’ eyes went wide as she gasped, “No way! Can’t I just…miss you?”

“Aww.” Regina hides her smile with a smirk, “You want a kiss?”

“I’m not a child.” Janis nudged her playfully, “But kiss me.”

“Stop pouting, you baby.”

“I’m not a baby.” The conversation just went on as they walked to home ec class together. “Yeah, you kind of are.”

Janis sulked, going quiet. Regina picked up on that instantly, of course, tapping the shorter girl’s arm. “Hey.”

“Yeah?”

Regina intertwined her fingers with Janis’, thumb brushing over her knuckles. “You okay? Does the bruise hurt? Anywhere else?”

“A little. And, no, just that bruise.”

Regina stopped walking a little ways before the classroom. Janis abruptly stopped too, her sneakers squeaking. She cringes, “What? What’s wrong?”

Regina hummed, “Nothing.” She turned Janis to face her. “Just…want to give you a kiss.” The apex predator smiled, brushing the hair out of her eyes. Regina peppers kisses all over her face, making her laugh. “What are you doing?”

“Bringing a smile to your face.” Regina answered matter-of-factly. And finally, Regina crouched down a little to press a kiss to the girl’s arm, on the now-formed bruise.

“Aww.” Janis grinned cheekily, “Thank you~”

Regina smirked again when their eyes met. “Got what you wanted?”

Janis flashes her girlfriend a similar expression, shrugging her shoulders before taking her hand and walking into the classroom together.

After school, she waited for Regina with Damian. “That is a nasty bruise.”

“Eh, I’m used to it. Doesn’t really hurt anymore whenever I get one.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Yeah okay, I’m just used to it. So I ignore it.”

“We saw that kiss thing in the hallway.” Damian dropped the information way too casually.

“Wow, ‘kiss thing’.”

“Whatever we call it, it was sweet. So fuckin’ cute.” Damian laughs, “Though I’m still not used to either of you being softies.”

Janis smacked him on the arm.

“Um, ow?!”

“That’s what you get for teasing me.” Janis chortled, “I’m injured, mind you.”

Damian pulled a shocked face and dramatically gasped, “Really? I could not have known, given how painful that slap was!”

They laughed. “Sorry.” The artist told him. “I’m kidding.” Damian chuckled over his words, “Oop, here she is. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Brunch at the mall?”

“Always.” Janis did finger guns at him, he burst out laughing.

“Hi, Regina.” He waved in his usual fashion.

“Hey.” Regina waved back.

“Okay, y’all enjoy your little night in.” Damian continued, “Bye now. Please don’t let her clumsy ass fall again.”

“I’ll try my best.” Regina smirked, amused.

“Thank you.” Damian leaves after that, so did Janis and Regina. Regina took her hand, and then leaned closer, “But after all, one kiss is all it takes for you to feel better.”

“Not if I fall and break—”

“Hey! No, no, no. Not going to happen. No.”

Janis giggles, Regina shut her up with a kiss. Janis blushes, instantly going mum. “Always gonna work whether or not you wanna believe it.”

“Who says I don’t?”

“Then why are you sulking again?” Regina teased. Usual conversations picked back up once Regina drove off, but Janis being pouty was irresistible in Regina’s eyes. It makes Regina want to kiss her and squish her cheeks. Well, anyway, once they got to Regina’s, they quickly learnt that the house was empty. June was out, for the weekend, according to the note on the fridge.

Regina chuckles, in a way that Janis recognises to be devious. She froze in her tracks and gulped. And then, not even a moment later, Regina had her hands on Janis’ sides, “Tickle attack!”

Janis squealed, running away. She was surprisingly fast, though, and startled Regina. “Get back here.” Regina narrows her eyes at Janis from where she was standing in the middle of the living room. On the other hand, Janis was in the kitchen, standing beside the kitchen island. One look and Janis knew she was getting chased again. Given the size of the Georges’ house, they wound up taking a few laps around the first floor, with Janis laughing and squealing adorably. Honestly this sound was why Regina didn’t want to stop. She found it cute, and it made her smile.

“I’m gonna get you.” Regina stood in the door leading out to the pool, “You’re dangerously close to the pool.”

Janis stuck her tongue out at Regina. Regina had to keep herself from laughing to make sure this tickle thing went on for a little bit longer. So far? Not very successful with the tickling but Janis was laughing a ton which was much needed. Janis slipped back inside the house when Regina wasn’t paying attention.

“‘Imi’ike.” She warned, taking bigger strides and tackling the petite girl onto the couch, “Got you.” Janis flopped onto her back on the sectional, Regina straddled her so she couldn’t escape.

Janis was cackling by the end of it, being so ticklish. Regina used that to her advantage. “Stop stop stop.” Janis said through the giggling.

“Okay.” Regina looked her in the eye, indeed stopping, “Say you love me.” And, she resumed. Janis was writhing beneath the other girl, “Stooooop.”

“Say it.” Regina kept tickling her.

Janis grabbed her wrist, which got her startled, then flipped their positions. Janis was now straddling her instead, “Hehe. I love you.” Regina nearly snorted at the abrupt change in tone. Then Janis was just laying on her like that, head on her chest. “Can we nap?”

Regina sighs softly, “You know…I thought you would’ve jumped into the pool to hide.”

“Do you want me to jump in there?”

“No.” Regina shook her head, a hand combing through the Hawaiian’s hair. “I just thought you would.”

“No.” Janis mumbled, “I’m tired today.”

“Okay.” Regina’s hand continued the soothing motion, “Close your eyes. Take a nap.”

Janis only nodded, eyes fluttering shut soon enough as she felt Regina’s kiss on the top of her head.

“I love you.” Regina whispered as she watched her sleeping figure, her heart swells and melted at the sight of Janis so comfortable, so soft, so…cute. Really, really cute. “I’m so in love with you.”

Janis chuckles, obviously sleepy, “I love you more.”

��️Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartandstuff @pda128

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  deadratz/@munsonkitten! They have 32 works in the Stranger Things fandom on AO3 and 31 of those are in the Steddie tag!

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by @munsonkitten:

the sound of silence

float among the wreckage

share the same space for a minute or two

you make me feel like i am whole again

sugar on my tongue

"In a fandom with over 20 thousand fics, it's hard to find fics that stand out, and Grim has so many that feel like a breath of fresh air for the characters. His specialty is exploring Eddie's trauma, past and present, and being patient with letting him heal in a messy, realistic way that tears your heart out and puts it back. Grim takes on topics that can be difficult to explain, like trauma and gender exploration, and puts them into words so perfectly. His fics are entertaining and heartfelt and always hot, no matter which one you open, you're in for a treat and he has some hidden gems! Regardless of what's popular, Grim stays true to the characters and it's easy to trust him with them, and that's something to appreciate!" -- anonymous

Below the cut, @munsonkitten answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

When Season 4 came out, I had lost all motivation in my old fandoms. I hadn’t written anything in months, but then I saw Eddie and fell in love instantly. As I was watching, I started to have this little thought like “is anyone else seeing this?” when I saw Steve and Eddie interact, and I ended up on AO3, reading through anything that looked good out of the 300 fics that came out in those first couple of days, and then I kept reading, and I was completely inspired. I was pulled in, and I tried to write something between volumes 1&2 that didn’t go anywhere, but I didn’t want to give up on them because there was just this pull that kept me thinking of them, and then, of course, we saw Eddie’s fate and I immediately had to rectify that in my own way. I love writing Steve and Eddie because they come from very different worlds, but as a queer punk who also played sports in high school, I know firsthand how those worlds can collide and I can relate to both Steve and Eddie and how they fit into their places as the freak/jock. There’s also just a certain coziness that comes with writing Steddie for me, like they’re familiar and something I can find safety in. They’re both complex characters with traumatic experiences and there’s comfort in that and there’s comfort in being able to process my own life through the perspective of the two of them and apply different things to their canon personalities and backstories. It really comes down to, like, even though they’ve fought monsters, they’re really just regular guys, too. They’re relatable and accessible because their lives are pretty average without the monster stuff. I don’t find myself wasting time doing tons of research about certain jobs or lifestyles as I have with other pairings in the past. Steddie has just given me a lot of freedom to do what I want.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

There are so many tropes that I love. I think a lot of them depend on how they’re written, of course, so even tropes I don’t typically like to read can end up being really good to me. My go-to answer for this is usually pre-dating sharing a bed/only one bed, whether they’re sharing because they get paired up together on a trip; they’re laying low at Steve’s and Steve needs to keep an eye on Eddie while he’s healing; nightmares bringing them to each other in the middle of the night; or one of them just crashing in the other’s bed. I think there’s something so intimate about the way these scenes can be written, something very vulnerable that I just love. There’s a lot of trust that goes into being comfortable enough sleeping near someone else, and I think it’s a really good way to start Steve and Eddie’s relationship. I also love, love like any kind of friends with benefits situation where they’re obviously pining for each other and completely in love but try to pretend the things they do together is just “helping a friend out,” while mutually being in denial of feelings. It serves for great tension and there’s always really good pay off when they start dating.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

My answer for this is really similar to the last one. First and foremost, I write what I want to read. I’m just very drawn to these kinds of fics with pre-relationship intimacy that turns into something solid between them. So I love writing only one bed and pining/fwb/friends to lovers fics as much as I love reading them.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

It’s hard to choose just one favorite after almost two years of reading Steddie fics, but some real stand out fics for me that I’ve read fairly recently have been Trouble Looks Good on You by indelicate, Metamorphoses by fastcardotmp3, Play it Right by stereobone, and Doing Nothing with You by redoaktree. All of these give such nice depth to the characters and their situations and have stuck with me. “Trouble” is still ongoing, but I trust Rue (indelicate) with these characters so much that I can say it’s one of my favorites without having the entire fic yet. It just hits so many of my boxes for Steddie, has all the right factors for a phenomenal fic, and stays so true to the characters in my opinion.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I have so many plans for upcoming fics, but one I’ve been trying to find time to write for over a year now deals with a lot of grief/mourning of a loved one and includes rockstar!Eddie with a good slooow burn. It’s all things I’ve somewhat explored, but want to really expand upon with this one. I feel like I haven’t written a proper slow burn, either, because I tend to do fwb situations with slow burns on the emotional aspects and admitting feelings part of their relationship, and I want to do a full slowburn in more aspects of their relationship. 

What is your writing process like?

Usually I’m inspired by something, whether it’s a situation that happens to me or something I see on TV, and I think about what kinds of stories could be told with those elements. Sometimes I take one trope and try to build a fic around it, sometimes I see a tiktok or a scene in a show and decide I need to use that in something. Other times, I just have a sentence in my head that I have to write down and it turns into a whole page and then suddenly I have 5k words. A lot of my process is spent brainstorming with friends, talking through scenarios and seeing what kinds of responses they get, other times I have an idea and I run with it and don’t tell anyone until it’s done. There are some fics I’ve fully outlined and then gone in completely different directions, and there are some fics I never wrote down a single note for. I’ve had a few fics that started as just single sentences and turned into paragraphs and merged them with other ideas in other documents. My process is kind of chaotic and always changes, if I’m being honest, but it works for me. I think it entirely depends on the mood of the fic I’m trying to write, how much research goes into it, and how long it’s going to be, and all of that. Sometimes I’ll sit down to write something fully knowing it won’t go anywhere just to get me into a writing mood. I’m really all over the place with my process.

Do you have any writing quirks?

I don’t know if this is really a quirk, but I’m the type of person who will go weeks without writing anything and then suddenly have an entire chapter or oneshot finished in two days. I procrastinate until I realize I need to do something or until inspiration really hits me and then I just lock it in and write nonstop until it’s done.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

This is kind of fic-dependent. If I know for sure that I have the time and motivation for a story, I post as soon as I get chapters finished. If I know I don’t have the capacity for another long form fic, I’ll write out the first chapter and leave it in my drafts until I get a bit further on it, just working when I’m between other projects or stumped on something else. I wouldn’t exactly say I post on a schedule because it’s nowhere near consistent, but I’ve never finished a full multi-chaptered fic before I start posting. I do write a lot of oneshots and two chapter shorter fics, though, so those two chaptered ones are usually close to finished before I post them.

Which fic are you most proud of?

Hands down, the sound of silence. They’re not done yet, but ‘you make me feel like i am whole again,’ and ‘sugar on my tongue’ are also up there with ‘sound of silence.’ It’s my longest fic in this fandom (currently) and my second longest fic I’ve ever written. I put so much of myself into this fic and I’m just really proud of myself for it. There were some definite challenges with this one, with one character in the main pairing barely having any dialogue for the first half of the fic, with the other half of the pairing navigating his newfound sexuality and his life being turned upside down yet again, and I also have a few outsider POVs like Wayne, El, Robin and Hopper sprinkled in there, which is always difficult to work in for me. I’m proud of myself for doing all of that and finishing it.

How did you get the idea for the sound of silence?

This fic started as two separate documents, just unconnected pieces of different stories, both of them hitting dead ends with no hope for continuation. I had started with just a simple idea of Wayne and Steve meeting after the events of season 4 put Eddie in the hospital, and I wanted to show the way Wayne cares for the people who love Eddie, and that ended up becoming the beginning of the fic once I put all the pieces together. The other document I had started around the same time was a short Wayne POV about living with Eddie after S4 and the person he turned into after losing so much of himself. I wanted to explore the idea of someone as loud as Eddie going non-verbal for weeks to months at a time (something I explored in a different fandom, so that sort of inspired me to write SOS too), and when I finally put those together, it just felt like everything was so clear to me and I took off with these ideas.

When writing float among the wreckage, what was something you didn’t expect?

Oh boy. This one was actually difficult for me because I wanted it to be a hate sex fic, and I realized I’m just incapable of making Steve and Eddie hate each other at all. I did something like that one other time earlier when the fandom was still pretty new, but wreckage came to me nearly a year into writing them and I’d really cemented the idea of these characters in my head, and it was just… Very unexpected that I struggled to tap into that tension and hatred. It ended up being less about hating each other and more about misplaced/misidentified feelings in the end.

What inspired share the same space for a minute or two?

I think my friend Teddy actually gave me the main idea for this one. An end of the world “I’m going to die a virgin” apocalypse setting during “season 5.” From that, I just started writing and saw where it took me, and I’m happy with where I took it. Sometimes all I need is one sentence and then I have 11k words written in just a few days, and that fic was one of those times.

What was your favorite part to write from sugar on my tongue?

This is a really hard question because I love so much of this fic and it’s still ongoing so I might still write something I love even more than any previous parts. Without giving too much away, it’s probably a tie between their first smut scene in chapter 1, their club night in chapter 2, and the part in chapter 3 where Eddie’s walking down the road after he runs out of gas and has a lot of introspection about his life and how he finds safety in Steve. One of my close friends told me the writing in that last part was beautiful and I’ve since decided it’s one of my favorite things I’ve written.

How do/did you feel writing the sound of silence?

Sound of Silence was very cathartic for me. I’m so proud of this fic and it deals with so much I rarely see in fanfiction – some of the topics are unsexy and there are a lot of symptoms of mental illness that are highly stigmatized that people just might not want to read in a story. But I knew it was the story I needed to tell for Eddie, mostly, but for Steve, too, and for myself. It’s not always happy, but it’s real to me. Life can be ugly and people can be volatile and traumatized and struggle with sexual function and have undesirable compulsions, and writing that whole fic felt like a release in a way because it’s stuff I relate to and stuff my best friends have also gone through. And the comments on this fic have made me feel seen and less alone in the things I struggle with that I had Steve and Eddie struggle with, as well. I think it’s just really important to have those fics that give at least one reader some comfort in their own situations.

What was the most difficult part of writing you make me feel like i am whole again?

This fic is about gender identity and pregnancy and love and all sorts of stuff that can be hard to put into words. I’ve never experienced a pregnancy, so there’s a lot of research that goes into that, a lot of reading firsthand accounts and finding out all sorts of things that weren’t taught in sex-ed classes. It’s also been a very vulnerable fic for me because Steve and Eddie both experience gender in ways that I do, too. Every time I write about identity and dysphoria through them, I’m putting parts of myself on display for others, and that can be hard, especially when people don’t always understand. I’m very protective over this fic, and I’ve had to defend aspects of it from people who can’t always accept other people’s experiences with gender identity and queerness. That’s been difficult, even well meaning comments can come across as criticism when the writing is so close to home, and it’s been a struggle to keep my head on straight with this one. But as difficult as that may be, the pros outweigh the cons with this fic. It’s so rewarding when people DO relate to the things I write about, and it’s been validating for my own identity and I’ve been told so many times the fic has felt validating to others, too. So as difficult as it can be, I wouldn’t change anything. 

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

I mentioned this bit of sugar on my tongue earlier and I think it’s my current favorite, but I have so many scenes and lines from other fics I’d consider my favorites: The sun beats down on his face and arms. He’s burning, red skin and hot tears. He feels like he needs to crawl out of his own skin. To leave it on the ground and walk away someone else.  Someone who doesn’t have to deal with Al Munson, doesn’t have to deal with a town that hates him for things he didn’t do. He wants to be someone who doesn’t have to be Eddie Munson at all. He just wants to be someone else, to feel safe in the skin he wears.  He thinks Steve might be the only person who makes him feel that way, even if it’s only for a glimpse, a small fraction of his life. Even if it’s just in the quiet hours of the morning when they’re curled up in Eddie’s bed, or when they’re just two boys kissing in a bar where no one knows their names. He wants to feel like that again. Safe. 

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I’m helping with a Sub Eddie Week event in April, so if anyone wants to do a fic or art for that event, you can find all info @subeddieweek. Most of my upcoming work is going to be made for this event, so stay tuned.

Thank you to our author, @munsonkitten, and our anonymous nominator! See more of deadratz works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[techmomma]

Driving Tips

As I understand it, there's actually quite a few of you on here who either don't drive or are very new at driving, or are very scared of driving! So as someone who has been driving for 15 years, here are some tips from good ol' Steph in no particular order.

Put more space between you and the car ahead of you than you think you need. Especially on freeways/highways/motorways. I grew up with the rule of "for every ten mph, add another car space." So if I'm going 30mph, then I should have at LEAST 3 car's worth of space between me and the car in front of me. I don't know how that translates to kph but I'm sure there's something similar.

I extend this even to coming to a stop. I try to leave at least a car space even when stopping at intersections.

The reason for this, if you remember from driving school, is to be able to come to a safe stop for your vehicle. But did you know it's not just for you? It's ALSO for the people BEHIND you, who may still be up your ass. If you come to a sudden stop, they're going to ram right into your backside. The space to slow down gives them time to slow down too.

If you've never had to come to a hard stop, YOU NEED MORE SPACE THAN YOU THINK YOU DO TO COME TO A FULL STOP. YOUR CAR WILL JUST KEEP GOING IF YOU WERE GOING FAST ENOUGH.

See this bad boy? The little circular mirror?

If your side mirrors don't come with one of these, get one. They will let you check your blind spot without twisting around in your seat--meaning you're not taking your eyes off of the road ahead of you so you can see behind you! They're literally like $5 and you can get them almost everywhere from convenience stores to supermarkets to auto shops.

It also helps with parking!!

The more scared you are, the worse you are going to drive. Like yes, don't be lackadaisical, you're driving a machine that weighs several tons. But the more afraid you are, the more you're going to overreact and overcompensate when things go wrong and in a car, keeping a cool head is going to be one of your biggest strengths if something goes wrong. Panicking will make things worse. You need to take active steps to stay cool when driving.

One of the ways you can do that is trying to find things you do enjoy about driving. You're controlling a scientific marvel full of incredible math and physics at play! Find ways to turn driving into something you can enjoy and it'll get easier to keep a cool head in it, rather than focusing on the myriad of ways it can kill you.

A horse can kill you in a myriad of ways too. But so can a dedicated duck. Your car ain't special.

In the same vein, I approach cars kind of like riding horses: yes this thousand pound animal can kill me, but also if it moves wrong it will break all of its bones, so while I need to respect its power, I also need to remain calm and take charge, to keep both the horse and myself safe. Do it. Anthropomorphize your car.

Another way is learning how to take care of your car, yourself! There are countless youtube videos that can teach you how to change a tire, emergency supplies you should keep in your car, how to change the oil, etc.. Taking care of your car helps turn it from something scary to something you start to understand inside and out--and knowledge helps us be less afraid.

In the same way, take some time to sit in your car, pull out the owner's manual, and read it over. Learning all of the buttons and what-does-what also helps give you a sense of control over your car.

Wear your fucking seatbelt jesus christ the laws have been in place for 50 fucking years (in America) for a reason

Figure out the best driving setup that works for you and keeps you the most comfortable and relaxed. For some people, this means putting on some tunes. For some, it means turning them off. Adjust your chair so that you have the best view around you, of your mirrors, while not putting strain on your back.

Keep your eyes ahead but take glances at cars to either side of you. There are two kinds of driving, called "reactive" and "proactive" driving. Reactive driving means only reacting to whatever immediately comes up, proactive driving means anticipating things that could come up. So for example, I'm driving down the highway. The car to my side is driving faster, at such a rate that if they continue, they will hit the car in front of them. If there is space in front of you, that probably means they're going to try to merge into your lane! (And probably suddenly, without using heir turn signal!) I slow down in those cases, to give this manic plenty of room to merge.

This also looks like keeping an eye not just on the car ahead of you, but several cars ahead of you. If you notice red lights in the distance, that means people are slowing down or coming to a stop, and you should be preparing to do so, too!

Just let people merge, man. If you're moving forward, you lose nothing by letting people merge with you. I don't put a "limit" on the number of people who "can" merge into my lane--if you keep enough space between you and the car ahead of you, there's always enough room to merge. There's literally nothing to be gained by not letting someone merge, besides being called an asshole.

And I mean. How many times have you tried to merge and fucking nobody would let you? And then some saint of a person finally lets you in before you miss your turn and you want to kiss their feet. Just imagine how many people will call you a saint for letting them merge. Imagine how many days are made when you let people merge.

In addition, though you probably won' reap the benefits, letting people merge helps keep the flow of traffic going and prevents backups and slow-downs! You, personally, can help clear up traffic that's come to a crawl. I have watched it happen in my rearview mirror, just by letting people merge.

(Think of how many accidents you also prevent because someone isn't panicking as they try to get to merge and trying to make sudden decisions under high pressure.)

Obviously don't do it FREQUENTLY if you don't have to: but try to learn how to drive one-handed. Being able to do so (briefly) means you know what to do if an emergency comes up and you need one of your hands. (Secret: it's your palm, not your fingers, for one-handed driving.)

Look, I KNOW the temptation is fucking real. I know. I KNOW. But do not brakecheck people. It is way more dangerous for you than it is for the shithead up your ass. It doesn't even work most of the time, if they're gonna get on your ass, they're gonna get on your ass, and brakechecking them is just gonna make them even pissier about it.

I do, recommend, however, going slower. Ease back on the gas~ This will also piss them off but it will make them more likely to just get fed up and pass you. If they can't pass you then you get to drink in the exasperation on their face in your rearview mirror.

When it comes to seeing other Problem Drivers on the road, there's kind of two main schools of thought, which is to either keep them ahead of you or put them behind you. I personally like to keep Problem Drivers ahead of me, if I can help it. I'd rather be able to see a problem and be able to react to it than put it behind me and then the Problem driver slams into me from behind because I had no idea they were still there.

If you have problems with night driving, try getting some kind of anti-glare lenses. It's glare that's typically the biggest issue with night-driving, so cutting through that will make things easier, safer, and more relaxed if you have to do so by night.

If your tire is losing air somewhat slowly and you can't afford to get it replaced just yet, there's an old solution that younger people might not know: find an air pump at a gas station, and fill the tire with air, yourself! It's really not hard, you just need to find what psi the tire is supposed to be pumped to (this will be on the side of the tire). At the air pump station, most stations now will let you set the psi you need for the tire, so you can set it to idk 42 psi? And it will automatically cut off or warn you when the tire pressure hits that psi! Pchow, easy fix, and if it's deflating slowly, this will buy you a little more time. Best of all, some stations offer their air pumps for free, but even if you have to pay, I think when I filled my tire a few months ago it was like $2 for 5 minutes of unlimited air pumping, which is more than enough for all of my tires, let alone just one.

That's all I can think of for now, so if you have any questions or want any advice, please feel free to ask! I am happy to impart whatever cultural knowledge/adulting information I can to you!

[raikanata]

Banquet Beneath the Clouded Moon - Chapter 5

English translation by @raikanata. Not proofread.

Characters: Rinne, Kanata

[♪]

A few hours later. Aoumi Aquarium.

Kanata: we made it~ this is the "aoumi aquarium".

Rinne: I was expecting a small place, but this is much larger than I thought.

Kanata: there are many "sea animals" here, after all.

Kanata: since "chief"-san isn't a high school student, it'll be the adult entrance fee.

Rinne: Huh!? You're gonna take money for this!?

Kanata: but of course. it costs money to "run" an "aquarium".

Rinne: I’ll try and take a look through my wallet, but… I’ve really got no money…

Rinne: -oh?

Kanata: what happened?

Rinne: I found a thousand yen bill! I hadn't noticed it ‘cause it was folded!

Rinne: Gyahaha, it's extra income! I'm lucky~☆

Kanata: you put it there in the first place, so it doesn't really feel like "extra income"?

Rinne: Don't worry about the little things ♪

Rinne: Though it'll all go towards the ticket fee soon. How sad…

Rinne: Ah, I got it! Kanacchi, can ya wait here for about an hour? I'll double this money playing slots ♪

Kanata: "gambling" again? in that case, there's no "guarantee" that the "money" will increase.

Kanata: there's no other way, huh… since it was me who invited you, this time i will let you in as an "exception".

Rinne: Eh, for real? Thank you, Kanacchi ♪

Kanata: but, next time, please pay it back "two-fold".

Rinne: You'll… charge me twice as much, huh? I got excited for nothing…

Rinne: As expected of Mr. Director… Ain't ya too serious about this?

Kanata: ufufu~ i am the "manager" after all.

Inside Aoumi Aquarium

Rinne: ...

Kanata: how's your first "aquarium", "chief"-san?

Rinne: ...

Rinne: If I'm being honest… I didn't have a good impression of the place called an "aquarium".

Kanata: hm? what made you think that way?

Rinne: I found it pitiable to take animals from the sea where they lived freely, and close them in this small space. So I'd been avoiding them for some reason.

Rinne: But that may have been just prejudice, or a preconception.

Rinne: So I accepted Kanacchi's offer to confirm the truth with my own eyes.

Kanata: and now, has your "impression" changed even just a bit?

Rinne: Well. I don't comprehend all of it yet, but I get that aquariums aren't just "freak shows".

Kanata: yes. "aquariums" have a number of "social" roles.

Kanata: aquariums spread information, and "educate" people about the "conservation of species" that protects lives.

Kanata: they do "research" to extend the lifespans of sea animals. they are also a place of "recreation" to enrich your heart.¹

Kanata: you can have fun in an "aquarium", while learning about these things.

Kanata: and your fun memories will forever stay with you…♪

Rinne: I see. I'm real glad I came here to see it for myself.

Kanata: fufu. i'm also glad that i invited you here.

Rinne: …Hey, Kanacchi. You got sea anemones here?

Kanata: of course. they're in the "petting corner" there, so you can also touch them if you want.

Kanata: do you like "sea anemones"?

Rinne: I've been told I look like one when I put my hair up. I'd never seen one outside of pictures before, so I thought I should see them now ♪

Kanata: hmm. i think "chief"-san looks like a "sea slug".

Rinne: Sea slug… Is that the kind of slug with all sorts of colors?

Kanata: yes. a sea slug has "all sorts of colors" to give off a warning to those who get too close.

Kanata: isn't that just like your "image" of seeming dangerous?

Kanata: also, sea slugs spend nearly all their time eating and sleeping.

Kanata: in that aspect too, they're just like you doing nothing but eating and sleeping on your days off ♪

Rinne: Gyahaha. I merely had an impression of the sea-dwelling slugs, but… I started to feel a kinship after you put it that way ♪

Kanata: in that case, let me introduce you to the "sea anemones" first, and then the "sea slugs".

Kanata: since there are more than "3000 kinds" of sea slugs…

Kanata: if we look for it, we might find one that is exactly like "chief"-san…♪

[☆]

Kanata is talking about the four social roles of zoos, which are also accepted for aquariums! Conservation, education, research and recreation - which are each reflected in his emphasized words here.

💧directory💧

[cadet-aviator]

A Masterpiece of Confusion

When I got back, I didn’t really know what to do.

I was stumped. I had to wait till my Dad got back, to sort this out – to sort my feelings out. 

I had breakfast. I went to school. I went to drill. I washed and ironed my uniforms. I got a few extra demerits at school, a few hundred lines to write, and I was happy to just sit down and do that and not think about anything.

Looking back, now, it’s easy to question the behaviour of His Excellency the Admiral. What was he thinking, interfering in the private life of a schoolboy and his father? Why did he feel he could confront me – the obedient cadet – with a half-baked analysis of my ‘true’ psychological make-up? Wasn’t this just a way to recruit a confused 15-year old, perhaps as a showcase for his precious Academy, ‘See? Even European kids are attracted to our country’s well-organised and disciplined way of life…’

But at the time, in that place, people like the Admiral had near god-like status (I mentioned he was a relative of the royal family, and to the Malayans, he really was kind of super-human). Nobody would object to this kind of intervention; in fact, people were quite jealous of my ‘preferential treatment’, and my friends at school wondered why I had been singled out and wanted to know everything about this ‘wonderful’ development. Applying to the Military Academy there was very difficult, and there were thousands of eager cadets who wanted to get in. So why would I get a free pass?

When my Dad got back, I told him the whole thing. It turned out he had already had a message from the Admiral’s office, in which my going to camp in the summer was already a done deal – all he had to do was give his consent. The Admiral had also – very sweetly, it seemed – offered to help out if due to my Dad’s busy work schedule ‘the cadet’ (me) required supervision, or a place to stay.

Now my Dad was confused – and annoyed. Sure, he had put me in that school with the mandatory cadet program, and yes, he had consented to me going to Elite Camp, but this was going a lot further than just a schoolboy’s hobby.

He was already not pleased with the 240-hour disciplinary measures, nor with the arrival of military personnel inspecting his son’s bedroom. So his first impulse was to say ‘I’m not having this, you’re not in their bloody army, I’m putting a stop to it.’

‘But Dad…’

He also saw me, however, close to tears, in my perfect uniform, just back from having my haircut.

This son with his excellent grades, who was so diligent and helpful around the house, never complaining about his Dad’s absence, or his mother’s ‘illness’, who had found a meaningful life of his own in this new country, who was busy, who had made friends – even though they kept showing up in uniform… 

So his main question in our big talk was: ‘Do you really want this, son?’

I confess that I cried a lot, then, it was all too much. I felt that the Admiral had seen me for what I really was, and I tried to explain to Dad that I was perhaps different to what he thought of me, or wanted of me, without saying that he had neglected me – because I really didn’t feel that.

‘I think I am really like that, Dad, I just feel so calm and… real, when I’m doing those things.’

‘Real?’

‘Well it’s like when I’m doing these punishments, like doing the dishes for two hours and then doing the ironing for half the platoon, all those things, I feel really useful, and I feel … peaceful.’

‘But these people are not just punishing you for a few errors, they’re using you…’

‘Yes Dad, I know, and sometimes I find it annoying when the Disciplinary Officer comes in and finds something wrong with the work, even though I tried hard, but I think the punisments are…’

‘What, son?’

‘I think I deserve them, Dad, surely they must be right, or they wouldn’t correct me, right? They told me to do something and I was distracted and I didn’t pay enough attention, or my mind wandered, and it’s not just against the orders, or that I was found out – I feel bad about that myself. Really bad, Dad.’

[I cried a bit, here. Dad didn’t get it]

‘What, you want to be punished? You want to work for hours for that bunch of soldiers?’

[This was the hardest question, perhaps. Nobody wants to be punished. I didn’t want to be punished. I wanted to be perfect – and that’s why I felt the punishments so deeply, not as anger, but as disappointment in the people I admired.]

‘I just want to be good, Dad.’

‘But you are a good boy, you’re a wonderful boy, you don’t need all that.’

‘Yeah but Dad, I can be better. The Admiral also said so, he wants to help me with that…’

‘With what?’

‘With being a better cadet, or a better person, or a better … son, I don’t know – I just don’t want to feel bad when I disappoint everybody…’

‘You don’t disappoint me, never.’

‘But I disappoint myself, Dad.’

‘Right. So. You want to be in uniform, all the time.’

‘Yes Dad.’

‘And you want to do what the Admiral wants?’

‘I guess so, Dad, but not if you don’t want me to, Dad’

‘Fine. Or not, I’m not sure’.

Dad, being a Dad, thought about all this for a while. He could see my confusion and my distress. But he had another problem too – I only realised much later what that was: as a diplomat, he was the intermediairy for a potential deal, a very large one, between the two countries, I believe it involved building submarines, or something. So stepping on the toes of the No.1 officer in the Malaysian navy was not a bright idea. He was clear that he would not use me as a kind of bonus, sweeting any deal – but it did bother him.

‘Very well, son. Here’s what I’ll do. I’ll get in touch with the Admiral’s office and straighten this thing out – the camp, this idea of you staying with him as a boarder or something, even this notion of you going to Military Academy. If you still want to spend the summer in the jungle instead of going somewhere with me, then so be it. I won’t stop you.’

‘Thanks Dad’

‘But! We’re going to spend some time together, first. I’ve been away too long, I can see that. So cancel your plans for the weekend, I’ll take you on a trip. How about Bangkok?’

‘Alright Dad, if you say so, Dad’

‘I say so.’

‘I’ll be great Dad.’

‘One rule: you’ll be out of uniform, for the duration. No shoulder lapels. No standing to attention, alright?’

‘But Dad, that’s impossible, I mean, I’m under disciplinary correction, if someone sees me out of uniform, there will be trouble, and…’

‘I mean it.’

‘I can’t, what if someone sees me, and there'll be more demerits...’

‘You will do what I tell you, for a change'

We compromised: I was going to wear ‘just’ my school uniform, shirt and tie, grey pants, normal shoes. And I was going to bring swimwear. There was going to be a beach, the sea, father and son stuff.

It had to happen too, I guessed.

(All images are AI-generated)

[mangodestroyer]

Not that I want to talk about it too much or anything, but now that I'm actually leaving retail for real (because I finally secured something else and can afford to leave), I'm kind of thinking a lot about how shitty this job actually is. And how I sort of just got used to it after a while.

I mean, first, there's the obvious of retail being a hella toxic environment. You're constantly facing the public, and have zero ways of standing up for yourself and avoiding it. Companies also push for you to reach extreme goals and push for workers to be super competitive over the metrics. All this micromanaging, as well as the bs from the customers, can easily cause co-workers to become burnt out and bitter. Leading to toxic work relationships as well.

Secondly, it's so much physical labor. And my job in particular also requires a high level of social intelligence. I mean, you have to actually SELL things to customers, on top of balancing a thousand different tasks (and completing them within a certain time frame while also putting out other people's fires). I mean, seriously. It's difficult to draw the energy to have a whole-ass sales pitch, individualized to the customer you're speaking to when you've been rushing to complete three projects.

It's also the scheduling. You can never have the same schedule every week. And the shifts are always all over the place. One week, you might have six four-hour shifts, the next week, you have an eight-hour shift where you work till nine at night, and then have another eight-hour shift the next day requiring you to come in at five or six in the morning. Maybe you worked nothing but evening shifts for the past three months. Now you're suddenly being scheduled morning shifts after you've gotten used to going to bed at four a.m. because you hate waiting to go to your job during the day. Maybe you're scheduled two 35-40 hour weeks because it's a very busy sales period and there is A LOT OF WORK TO DO. Then you're scheduled for nothing but 8 to 16-hour weeks and there's nothing to do/you have no money. You're scheduled for every weekend and holiday. You can no longer feel excited about those while everyone else is having a blast. In fact, you forgot that going to the store is something that people sometimes do for fun. If you ask to limit your hours and have certain times/days off, you'll get heckled for it. Sometimes, you're asked to cover shifts and people get annoyed if you decline. You're asked to find someone to cover your shift if you can't make it in. People get mad at you for being sick or for just wanting to use vacation days.

The pay. The pay is shit. All this for the lowest pay they think they can get away with giving people.

It is... exhausting! Even a simple four-hour shift leaves me feeling like I can't decompress. I have to take things to help me relax after work and to help me tolerate it the next day. Even then, I can't truly get myself to focus on my hobbies or anything. It's also made going to school difficult. It's so hard to think after being worked like that. Or to have the energy to stay on top of things. Also, I've gained weight since working this job. I was... 125 lbs when I started. I got all the way up to 165 lbs in three years and struggled to get down to 157 lbs these past few months. I feel like my stomach can't even digest a lot of food these days. Like, if I eat too much dairy or fruit or something, it feels like it just sits in my stomach for a long ass time until I get cramps and feel bloated. I never used to be like this. I also feel like I have more inflammation in general. And God forbid you have issues happening in your personal life. It makes all of this so much worse! Back when I was in a toxic relationship, I straight up wondered if I was developing b*polar/sch*zophrenia, d*mentia, or c*ncer. The stress was affecting me both physically and mentally THAT MUCH.

I spent three weeks away from my job a few months ago. I actually started feeling like I had some energy. I started feeling human again. It was pretty telling. Before then, I thought I'd finally gotten used to working that job and that maybe it wasn't so bad. Then I came back and was like, "Holy, fuck! This place is shit!" I started putting in job apps like my life depended on it for ANYTHING that wasn't retail or food service. ANYTHING. Even if I was underqualified.

And that's that. I will never do a low-paid customer service job again. If things ever get rough in the job market and I don't have a choice but to return to shitty work... I will literally do the actual SHITTY work of scrubbing toilets before I return to retail. I'm DONE.

[rainbowsandwhumperflies]

Do you do all your writing on one doc, or do you have a bunch of different ones?

I Suck at organizing, especially when trying to put a story together, so I am always trying to find (and stick to!) ways to organize my stuff

<3

you've caught me at kind of an awkward time, I'm in the middle of transferring stuff from one app to another with different formatting in each 😭 but I will do my best to explain my process of putting things together! warning this is a ridiculously long explanation

So the current main thing that I organize The Winged Servant into is a google doc, but it isn't the place that has the most of it. My current number of typed words for that story is about 83 thousand, but I actually have a deep hatred for typing and love for pencils and paper. If I were to guess the amount of ws that was written somewhere, I'd say probably about twice as much.

I do have notebooks specifically for writing in. I don't use most of them.

Where I mostly write is actually my yearly planner! I get planners that give me like two pages each week, and my handwriting is very small. So after I use the planner part, there's a lot of leftover space, and I put a lot of things in the empty past space. I also have the ADHD curse of never opening planners, so I put literally every single thing in the past space so I'm forced to open it. It's my writing and my school notes and song lyrics that get stuck in my head and so much other stuff. I don't think I can explain without a visual? So here's a wretched wretched visual.

[ID: I'm so sorry if you rely on image descriptions. This is an image of a piece of paper with like eight different topics scribbled all over it, with editing that is desperately trying to make it seem less chaotic than it is. This editing is doing it by labeling different areas with "this whole green bar is repetitive spanish vocab for memorization" "it''s stats notes the whole way down" "song lyrics that were stuck in my head" "when the math teacher was like 'use scrap paper'" "vampire fanfic if I remember correctly" "things that were written in the planner as plans" and "tiktok audios I wanted to animate to (so that I didn't have to keep listening to it every five seconds)" /end ID]

so yeah that's what my planners look like. I put pretty much everything in there. this is one of the tamer pages. the reason the right side handwriting is so much worse is because I wrote it with my left hand to practice to become ambidextrous!

That's where the majority of The Winged Servant is written. That is where the majority of everything I write is written. I've been getting the same planner for the past three years and doing this every year. I have no organization system within the notebook, I just write whatever sounds appealing that day. And once in a while if I want to write but have no energy, I start typing wherever I left off. Right now I'm a few pages into the second notebook!

Okay enough about the pencil paper writing. Once it gets typed, it does currently go into one google doc. I do love love love the new tab feature of google docs though! It's really convenient to be able to just have multiple google docs inside a google doc. This is what the tabs of ws look like.

[ID: tabs in a google doc, reading: Outline, Preplot Kieran, Arien era, Captivity era, Actual story ?!?! and Ask games etc etc. /end ID]

There used to be two more, which were pre-whump royalty and pre-whump angels. Those are currently inside of the outline tab, because I'm trying to condense all of them into one tab while keeping headings intact so that I can export the document eventually.

The reason I'm exporting is to move to ellipsus ! It doesn't have all the features of google docs that I wish it did but it doesn't scrape original work for ai. It is all around a much more ethical company so I'm moving over there. Also most of the features I want have been requested and the ellipsus team is really nice about listening to feedback so I'm not worried.

Anyway. This is what inside the tabs looks like.

[ID: Inside of the tab reading "Actual story ?!?!" there are subcategories, titles Chapter 1 (Posted), Chapter 2 (Posted), Chapter 3 (Posted), Chapter 4 (Posted), and Chapter 5 (Posted) /end ID]

Each chapter title also has a description (the same descriptions that I use in the masterlist lmao) and I can see them if I hover. Since they're chapters instead of concepts, they are all the same level of subcategory, but in the other tabs they're not chapters and not the same level.

[ID: Inside the tab "Ask games etc etc" there's a subcategory titled "In-character writing asks" . Inside of that, there are more subcategories titled Ryan's asks, Onyx's asks, and Asks for multiple characters /end ID]

so. yeah. that's about it. my organization system is Fuck Around And Find Out. it's a miracle I've ever posted anything coherent and I'm sorry if you were hoping for a genuinely helpful answer. but I hope this answered any questions of yours!