#and i know it's harder when you get a large part of your income from online content

[birt-art]

Something I really wish more creators would understand is that constantly complaining about your work not getting as much engagement as you'd like doesn't make me want to engage with your work more, it just makes you look bitter and the endless negativity makes me want to unfollow

[roanofarcc]

LIKE MOTHER LIKE FATHER LIKE DAUGHTER

pairing. tyler owens x harding!reader - part 2!

summary. you had made a name for yourself in the storm chasing game; it was in your genes, being the daughter of famous chasers jo and bill harding. tyler found your knacked for knowing just what the storm’s thinking a little infuriating and incredibly impressive.

 warnings. fem!reader, reader gets injured, mentions of blood and injuries, probably inaccurate meteorological info & medical info, angst & fluff, some hurt/comfort on this fine Tuesday night.

word count. 3.7k || masterlist

a/n. twister has been my favorite movie FOREVER so here's a little homage to the og storm chasers <3

You were ten when you went storm chasing for the first time. Growing up, you’d heard your parents' stories every time there was a shift in the weather. Instead of the typical childhood fear of storms, you had always been fascinated by them; your dad, Bill Harding often joked it was in your genes, the lack of fear. With some light convincing of your mom, Dr. Jo Haring, she agreed to take you storm chasing for your tenth birthday. 

The twister had been small, barely an EF1, but it was wondrous. There was something dangerously beautiful about it that drew you in just as it had your parents when they were younger. From that point on, you knew you wanted to be just like them, chasing storms up and down Tornado Alley. 

And with the stubbornness passed down by your mom, that is exactly what you did. You were damn good at it to. 

“It’s lookin’ like a big one to the southeast,” a member of your team said, slugging an arm around your shoulder as she looked up at the sky, squinting slightly at the sun. “But the radar says we’ve got another brewin’ west. She's pickin’ up speed but it’s still developing.” 

You hummed in response, gazing up at the sky too, judging which one was your best bet by observing the clouds in either direction. “Let’s hang back and go for the one to the west, I like her chances better.” Your teammate, Frankie, grinned as she nodded and headed off toward the other three members of your small, but mighty team. 

As you waited for the storm to flesh out a little more, you sat on the bed of your truck, dangling your legs off of the tailgate. The fresh air filled your lungs and the faint smell of incoming rain brought a smile to your lips. Every time you got ready for a chase, you felt ten years old again, giddy and excited for the thrill of the storm. You thought back to the photo albums you’d looked at a hundred times over of your parents and their numerous storm-chasing adventures. They never pushed you into storm chasing, as it was a dangerous line of work, but from a very young age, it was clear that your fascination with storms wouldn’t be quelled with a simple meteorology degree and a job behind a desk. 

Storm chasing was in your blood, and your knack for it was known among other storm chasers. 

“Well, if it isn’t the doctor herself,” a familiar voice filled your ears, belonging to the one and only Tyler Owens. He approached your truck, hands on his hips and a certain cockiness that excited you. You liked a challenge, and you loved showing cowboys up. Tyler was good at what he did, but you were just a little bit better, and it both irritated and impressed him. 

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” you said, earning a light chuckle from him. 

“You don’t look in a hurry. That storm to the southeast won’t last forever.” You shrugged and he narrowed his gaze just slightly. “You’re not going after that one, are you?” 

“Damn,” you sighed. “You’re getting harder to trick, Owens.”

He laughed, light and sweet. It was easy to see how he garnered such a large online audience. Tyler was easy on the eyes, drove straight into tornados with a grin on his lips, and had the knowledge of storms to back up his insane behavior. You’d never admit it aloud, but he did impress you, even if you thought some of his actions were reckless even for a storm chaser.

The two of you had an interesting rapport. It toes the line between rivals and friends, the odd territory in between. You loved teasing him, and he tried to outsmart you even if it never worked. 

“Maybe you’re getting too predictable,” he said, a teasing tone in his voice. 

“Och.” You faked hurt, placing a hand over your heart. “What is it you always say? If you feel it, chase it. If you think the one to the southeast is gonna show her face, go for it.” 

Tyler studied you for a moment, contemplating what kind of game you were playing with him. All you did was smile at him in return, which led him to roll his eyes. “Unfortunately, you’re rarely wrong,” he sighed. 

“It’s a blessing and curse.” 

“You’re impossible,” he said. “But the west it is. It better not let me down, Dr. Harding.” You only used that title in more professional settings. That had been a condition of your mother. She had gotten her PhD and believed you could too. It was tough, but you earned it; only, you didn’t expect some cowboy to use it to lightly mock you when you proved him wrong.

“You have my word,” you said. 

And you were right. The storm to the west produced a beautiful tornado. You and Frankie got close while the rest of your team hung back. Rain pelted the windshield as you grew closer, watching the dark funnel tear through the expanse of fields, picking up speed on the ground. Somewhere along the way, Tyler’s unmistakable red truck ripped past you, heading into the heart of the twister, which you rolled your eyes at. 

“She’s a beauty!” Frankie hollered, holding her camera at the ready. 

It was a great chase, but the thing about tornados that was both thrilling and dangerous was their unpredictability. You knew the storm would be big, and the closer you grew the more power you saw that it had. The other truck carrying the rest of your team had communicated the growing intensity of the storm via the radio. But it looked to be on a steady path west, so you saw no issue tailing it while Frankie snapped pictures.

The rain only grew heavier and heavier, almost completely obstructing your view. It wasn’t until a tree crash landed directly in the middle of the road did you realize the tornado had changed directions suddenly. A startled scream torn from Frankie lips and you slammed on the breaks, narrowly missing the tree. 

“Holy shit,” she whispered, leaning up against the dash and trying to see through the rain wrap. “It’s right there. It’s right there! We gotta go!” 

You quickly threw your truck in reverse and backed up, but you didn’t get far. A lone semi that had been traveling skidded to a stop just a couple hundred feet behind you. The way they had stopped at the sight of the tornado left its trailer sideways across the road before it was abandoned by the figure hunkering down in the ditch that lined the backroad. 

You hissed under your breath, trapped between two objects and a tornado that shook your truck. There wasn’t enough space to fly around the semi. The ditches on either side of the road were too deep to take quickly and another minute trying to maneuver around the semi would only lead to your truck getting swallowed by the storm, picked up, and tossed around like a rag doll. 

Your parents had prepared you for a kind of situation like that, but that didn’t shake your panic. With a rapidly beating heart, you put the truck in park and yelled at Frankie to get out. You both stepped out into the storm as the tornado loomed closer and closer. Wind whipped all around you along with debris. You grabbed Frankie’s hand and together you sprinted toward the ditch. 

Frankie lay on her stomach, and you lay beside her, covering her head the best that you could. Whatever happened, you had always told yourself your teammates' safety came first. You were the one who talked them into storm chasing with you. So, when danger arose, you felt the responsibility of keeping them safe. 

The screeching of winds was so loud in your ears that it almost disoriented you enough to miss the sharp piece of debris that swooped down at the tornado that passed along the field just opposite of the ditch, not directly over top of you but much too close for comfort. Something smacked against the back of your head, but you closed your eyes and held onto Frankie in hope of shielding her from any other flying objects. 

You weren’t sure how long you two lied there, but it felt like a lifetime until the tornado traveled further away. The winds died down but your heart beat stayed quickly pounding against your chest. 

Sitting up, you felt the sharp sting settling in the back of your head, but you ignored it at the sight of Frankie’s cut leg. 

“Shit,” you muttered, grabbing her knee to examine the clean slice down the back of her shin. 

She wiped back the wet pieces of her hair and let out a shuttered breath. “Holy shit, that was crazy.” You pulled off your sweatshirt and wrapped the wet fabric around her shin. “What’re you doing?” 

“You’re bleeding.” 

“It’s fine,” she said, trying to brush it off, but you heard the pain in her voice, along with the tremble of lingering fear at your close call. You knew the dangers of storm chasing and the possibilities of injuries, but it always felt different to you when it was a member of your team, one of your friends. 

A couple minutes after you tied your sweatshirt around her shin and helped her up from the ditch, the truck carrying the rest of your teammates rolled up, hooting and hollering at the size of the storm until they saw the state the two of you were in. 

“Take her back to the motel. If the bleeding doesn’t stop take her to the hospital.” Frankie opened her mouth to protest, but you cut her off. “I’m serious.” 

“What about you?” another member of your team asked. 

You looked down the road at your overturned truck, sighing sadly to yourself as the pain in the back of your head throbbed. “I’ve gotta call someone for my truck. I’ll meet you back at the motel later.” 

They were hesitant to leave you but eventually agreed. Down the debris-littered road, you hobbled back to your truck. It had been a gift from your parents after you graduated college; it was special to you, but it was totaled thanks to the tornado. 

With a groan, you heaved open the door and tried to gather your belongings, but a wave of dizziness washed over you. You staggered backward, reaching up to touch the tender spot on the back of your head. Something wet coated your fingers and when you pulled your hand back, it was painted red. Frustrated, you tried to take a deep breath and calm yourself down enough to find your cell phone. Unfortunately, the cut was a little worse than you wanted to admit, and you felt blood drip down the back of your neck. 

Dizzily, you sat down on the road, blinking back the pain and wooziness. A slow creep of panic started to take hold as the pain intensified and the world started to spin just slightly. 

With one hand placed firmly on the back of your head, you rubbed your temple with your other, trying to think clearly but it became increasingly more difficult. You missed the hum of an engine nearby, but a slam of a door startled you. 

“Harding!” Someone yelled and you blinked slowly, keeping a hold on the back of your head as you looked up to see Tyler Owens bee-lining right toward you. He kneeled in front of you, brows furrowed and lips pulled in a small frown. “Hey, are you all right?” 

“Yeah,” you said quickly, once again trying to push away the dizziness that plagued you. “I’m, uh, just looking for my phone. I gotta call someone for my truck.” The words felt heavy in your mouth, which couldn’t be a good sign. Whatever struck the back of your head hit it hard and the blood that leaked from the wound wasn’t helping. 

He studied you for a moment, his gaze landing on your hand pressed against the back of your head. “You hurt?” You started to shake your head, but that only caused little black dots to temporarily pepper your vision. Tyler wasn’t an idiot; he reached up and carefully pushed your hand back, stopping when he saw the blood that started to drip down your arm. He cursed under his breath and yelled something at whoever sat in the passenger seat of his truck. 

“Hey.” His voice became soft, comforting even. “We’ve gotta get you to a hospital.” 

“I’m fine,” you inisted, even though every thing you felt inside your body proved that to be untrue. You just hated not being able to do something yourself; you hated needing help. Your father said you interited that from your mother, while she said you got it from your father. Truth was, they both had their air of stubbornness and you was born with double. 

Tyler shook his head. “No, you’re not.” He stood to his feet and gently tugged on your arm in an attempt to help you stand. Begrudgingly, you let him help you. Standing up, the world spun faster and you felt panic swell uncomfortably in your chest. You swayed catching yourself on Tyler’s arms as they grabbed your shoulders. “I’ve got you,” he said. Maybe it was your slightly disoriented state, but his assurance and hands firmly holding onto your arms made some of your panic recoil. As much as you wanted to be okay, you knew that was not the case. 

He knew that too, and helped you into the passenger seat of his truck before he instructed one of his fellow Wranglers to keep pressure on the back of your head with whatever they could find in the backseat. You winced as a crumbled up shirt was held against your head, but the moving truck overwhelmed you with dizziness that made the physical pain of your wound the least of your worries. You didn’t want to pass out but your eyes felt heavy. 

Tyler noticed it too, and placed a hand on your knee, giving it a squeeze and a shake. “You gotta stay with me, okay? You gotta stay awake.” 

“M’trying,” you muttered. 

“You were right about the storm,” he said. “But aren’t you always?” 

A pained smile fell across your lips. “Was that a compliment?” 

He laughed, driving quickly down the road with one hand gripping the wheel tightly. “Yeah. You’re hard to say something bad about. You know your stuff, better than me, that’s for sure.” 

“My parents taught me,” you said, desperately trying to keep yourself consciousness, but it grew more difficult by the minute. 

“Do they still chase?” he asked. 

“Not much anymore. Sometimes if a storm’s close, they’ll take a drive. But they always say they’ve had their fun.” They also said they shared enough close calls to know it was time to hang it up. You know they worried you’d find yourself in one too, but you’d always been careful and rarely got yourself into a situation you couldn’t get out of, until now, that was. 

Darkness encroached on your vision, threatening to force your eyes closed. Some the backseat, you heard one of the Wrangles call Tyler’s name. He turned his head, but you couldn’t see the concerningly red-soaked shirt that made his stomach churn and caused him to press down on the gas harder. Your head lulled to the side and your eyes fluttered close. Vaguely, you heard Tyler call your name and felt him shake your knee, but you couldn’t open your eyes or open your mouth. Everything fell dark. 

-- 

Tyler had spent his fair share of time in hospitals. He’d been bucked off a bull more than once, resulting in his mother dragging him to the hospital and threatening to make him quit. Eventually she held to her threat when he shattered his nose and gained a nasty concussion. 

Being at the hospital for himself was one thing, being there for you made him realize why his mother used to be drenched in worry. He nervously drummed his fingers against the arm of the chair in the hospital room. You were asleep, a fresh bandage wrapped around your head and with a minor concussion. The cut on the back of your head required a couple stitches; you were lucky, all things considered, but Tyler really hated seeing you like that. 

To him, you’d always been unreal. A second generation storm chaser so accomplished. Not only did you know your stuff, it was clear how much you enjoyed it. You lit up at the sight of storms, and Tyler couldn’t help but be in awe. There was a competitive nature to storm chasing and as much as he wanted to be annoyed by you always being two steps ahead of him, he couldn’t. He was just impressed. 

Tyler wasn’t sure how or when that admiration turned into something that teetered on affection, but it felt more than it had been before seated at your hospital bedside. He’d never felt his stomach drop like that before, when you passed out in his truck, Boone holding a bloodied shirt to you head. Even after the doctor said you’d be just fine, he felt on edge. 

The door to your room was pushed open by a nurse who led in two more people, who he instantly recognized: The Hardings. 

He stood up quickly and watched as your mom rushed to your side, brushing a hand across your cheek with a deep frown. “Oh, baby girl,” she sighed.  

The nurse offered your concerned parents a polite smile. “As the doctor said, the concussion was minor so all she need is some rest for the couple of days to a week. She should wake up soon and we'll see how she’s doing, then the doctor will let you know when she can be discharged.” 

You dad rubbed your mom’s back like he was trying to ease the heavy worry that shined in her face, but he too looked just as worried with a crease across his forehead. 

Tyler lightly cleared his throat, gaining your parents’ attention. "Hello, ma'am, sir," he greeted them.

“You must be the one who brought her in,” Jo said, and Tyler nodded in response. “Thank you. We’d been trying to call her, after we saw that storm, but she never answered and I…I just had a bad feeling.” 

Bill rubbed the light stubble on his chin. “No wonder she’s knocked out; I don’t think you’d get here otherwise. Stubborn, that kid.” 

A found smile spread across Tyler’s lips. “She kept saying she was fine until she nearly passed out on me. We only got a couple miles before she did pass out; scared the life out of me,” he said, running a stressed hand through his hair freed from his hat. The second you passed out in his truck, he nearly broke every traffic law. He wasn’t sure he’d never been quiet that scared, which was something he wasn't sure how to feel about.

Your mom furrowed her brows at Tyler’s words, something glinting behind her eyes until it shined in recognition. “You’re that storm chaser she’s always talkin’ about,” Jo said. “The one online.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Bill said, nodding in Tyler’s direction. He couldn’t tell if it was disdain or indifference in the man’s voice, but Tyler was too hung up on the fact that you talked about him to care much. He didn’t know that filled him with an odd sense of pride and warmth. You two weren’t exactly friends but you were more than acquaintances. It was more like a nice, workplace rivalry that he enjoyed a lot more than he’d admit. 

A small groan sounded from the bed, and everyone turned as your eyes fluttered open. Your mom was quick to your side, speaking quietly under the hum of fluorescent lights. 

You started to mumble something about your truck that Tyler couldn’t quite make out, but your dad seemed to understand immediately. He said he’d take care of it, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before he headed out into the hall with his cell phone in hand. 

Tyler felt like he overstayed his welcome; you were in better hands with your parents there. He collected his things from the chair, garnering your attention. 

“Tyler,” you said, pushing yourself to sit upright. “Thank you.” 

He smiled. “No problem, doctor. I couldn’t let one of the best chasers be out of the game, now could I?” 

“So you admit it? I’ve got you beat.” 

“I said one of,” he joked. “But you may have one or two legs up on me. Not for long though. I’ll catch up.” 

Something in your smile made him want to sigh in relief, but he held it back. “Not a chance.” 

“Then you better rest up; I’ll see you back out there.” 

Bonus!

It took a little longer for you to bounce back, but the second you felt like yourself again, you were right back at it. Morning was supposed to bright a slew of storms to Kansas, so you and your team hightailed it to the state, finding a cozy little motel already occupied by other storm chasers. You spotted Tyler’s truck instantly, followed by a strange turn of your stomach. 

You hadn’t seen him since you woke up in the hospital, slightly surprised that he stayed with you until your parents arrived. Since then, your mom had managed to bring him up at every opportunity, not so subtly hint at what a pair the two of you would be. You brushed her off, but a small part of you wondered what would happen if you hung around the cowboy a little more. 

“Look who���s back!” Tyler’s voice sounded the second you hopped out of Frankie’s beat-up but sturdy truck; you were saving up for a new one, something even nicer that you could doctor up for chasing. 

He approached you with a beaming smile, flashing his teeth. “I just couldn’t stay away,” you replied. “I didn’t miss anything too crazy, did I?” 

Tyler shook his head. “It seemed like mother nature saved the good ones for you. They’re talkin’ some big ones tomorrow.” The giddy feeling that accompanied storm filled your chest, and the company of Tyler heightened it, strange and new but not completely unwelcome. Maybe it was time you gave into his charm a little more.

[tetzoro]

HELP ME HELP YOU — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. dick grayson !

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : poison ivy has been flying under the radar and weaponizing her pollen to fellow criminals. it’s a shame you and dick find out the hard way.

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. f!reader. dub-con bc of sex pollen (they’ve both been pining for each other tho), dry humping, slight exhibitionism, unprotected sex, oral (f + m receiving, 69, face sitting), cum eating, multiple orgasms, missionary, mating press, cowgirl, pet names (baby, pretty), praise, creampies, mentions of breeding, light impact play (slaps your thigh once), begging, mentions of sweat and saliva, slight overstimulation, almost pure smut tbh it’s just filth — WC : 6.1k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : mind the tags !! i’ve been wanting to write a sex pollen fic for so long i’m so excited i finally did it ! enjoy !!

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᰔ*.ﾟ

another drizzly night in gotham, filled with blaring police sirens and a heavy dose of crime. patrol was going as planned for the most part. apprehending a few criminals here and there, but nothing major. to dick, it was a semi-quiet night. one that left him reflecting on his life or rather, his recent choices.

truth be told, he had missed gotham. even though it wasn’t in a much better state when he had left, a large part of him knew he belonged here. bludhaven had been a good experience for him to try and break away, start his own thing. but when it came down to it, he missed it here. missed the people here, some more than others.

dick eventually got a tip from tim, stating that there were a couple of criminals causing a scene a few blocks down the road. he made it there quickly, only to run into you.

normally, it wasn’t a rare sight to see you out on patrol at the same time as him, but lately, it’s been harder to be around you. he knew he was developing feelings for you, no, he already had feelings for you. but it was all so confusing. the two of you had been friends for so long, since you were teenagers.

but then he left and you stayed. even though he’s been back for about a month, it still feels like he doesnt get to see enough of you. and when he’s finally around you, he just doesn’t know how to act anymore. 

“and here i thought you’d never show up, nightwing.” you tease, getting ready to apprehend the criminals that were trying to make their next move. he easily side stepped to get into a closer range to them, ready to bring them down with you. but truthfully, a large part of his focus wasn’t on them at all.

“you know i can never resist.” he smirks. the two of you start fighting off the criminals, landing quick, steady punches. 

“resist showing off, you mean.” you scoff, swinging your fist around, lodging it in one of the criminals' sides.

“ouch,” dick takes out one of his batons, twirling it around in his hand before using it against one of the enemies. “and here i was going to help you out of the goodness of my heart, my mistake.”

the two of you move in sync, your fighting styles mimicking each other as you attempt to take down the criminals. even though it’s been awhile, the two of you mesh well together just like old times.

“why don’t you sit back and watch how it’s done, boy wonder.” you drop down, palm hitting the pavement as you dodge an incoming attack. you use the momentum to sweep your feet under the apprehender, knocking him on his back. 

“i must’ve struck a nerve for you to use that nickname on me.” he smirked, trying to see how far he can crawl under your skin. the criminals were still trying to fight you both, but it was a cakewalk for him. he’d rather just stand around and tease you all night if he could.

“you’re always on my nerves.” you huff, pushing a villain off of you, watching them hobble backwards before you ready for another attack.

“gotta get your attention somehow, don’t i?” he hit one of the criminals in the gut, trying to swiftly take him down.

before you can retort, you hear something clink to the floor near dick before gas starts to surround it. you both pause, attention shifting on the strange device. the criminals use the momentary lapse to their advantage.

“that’ll keep them busy for awhile.” one of the criminals snicker as they make their escape. you take a step towards them but dick holds you back, his hand gripping onto you.

something felt like it was crawling up his spine, a heat that grew more the longer he touched you. 

“what are you doing?” you question him, ripping your arm from his hold. but then he realized, not touching you sent spikes of pain throughout his body, yearning for some sort of relief that he didn’t know how to get.

he tries to shake it off to focus on the task at hand, pressing against his ear piece, trying to contact tim.

“nightwing.” tim greets as he presses the button. dick crouches down to look at the device the criminals threw, your eyes tracking his movements with curiosity. “report?”

“looks like the criminals threw a toxin at us, i’m not sure what it is but it let out a puff of gas when it hit the ground. judging by the design of it i’d say,” dick pauses, eyes widening as he flips it over in the palm of his hand. a small, green plant painted onto the side of the device. “ivy.”

“alright, report back to the batcave. there’s been rumors that she’s been weaponizing her special pollen so we will have an antidote ready. did anyone else get hit? or are you alone?” tim replies, typing away on his keyboard.

dick looks over at you, holding your gaze for a moment. his mouth feels dry, words lodged in his throat as his body shivers. he tells tim he’s with you.

“dick, whatever you do, do not give into any urges, okay? christ, i didn’t know she’d be out on patrol too, she wasn’t even scheduled.” the frustration in his voice is tinged with anxiety and panic, knowing fully well the extent of getting hit by ivy’s pollen. “both of you get back here immediately. signing off.”

“affirmative.” dick nods, letting tim break the line for now. his eyes hadn’t left yours and he watched as you back up towards the wall behind you. he mirrors your movements, his thoughts growing hazier by the second. his more primal urges start to fight logic, a new battle unfolding in his mind.

he holds onto the wall, planting his back firmly against it as his hands form a fist. the sensation is back again, prickling under his skin like an itch he can’t scratch. it’s driving him mad, sweat starting to coat his body. everything was hot, searing. any self control he had was quickly slipping through his fingers, his heart racing out of his chest. 

even looking at you seems to make it worse, so he keeps his head against the wall, looking up at the dark sky as he tries to find the strength to move. he needs a plan, something to grasp and ground him to reality before he throws caution to the wind and takes you right here in this alleyway.

so he decides he just… won’t give in. that’s it, he’ll stay on this side of the wall while you stay on the other and then you go back to the cave and get the antidote. perfect.

“dickie.” or well, it would’ve been. his attention reluctantly goes over to you as you use his nickname, eyes burning trying to keep them on your face. but the way your voice sounded, the lilt of desperation packed into it had him curious. his eyes trail down your body, watching the way your chest heaves up and down, your thighs clenching together.

“yeah?” he swallows, eyes averting to the ground, his fingers curling deeper into his fist until he’s sure his nails are about to break the skin. 

“it hurts.” you all but whimper and his resolve cracks in half. it was always his dream to be your hero, to be someone you look up to and respect. being your knight in shining armor and eventually wooing you over one day. with the way your voice sounded, he needed to save you, do anything to make you feel better. seeing you in pain like this clawed at his heart, leaving his chest wide open. “please, i don’t know what to do.”

he’s never seen you look so helpless. you’ve always had an air of confidence about you whenever you put on your suit. you took being a hero seriously, one of the many things he admired about you. but this? he’s never seen you like this. and it stirred something within him.

he swallows thickly, trying to grab control of his thoughts once again, gripping onto logic even though the pollen was directly challenging it. one by one, another decent thought slips out of his hold and is instantly replaced with one that was much more improper. the kind of thoughts he’s tried his best to repress, especially when it comes to you.

“i know.” he says, tim’s word of caution fleeting from his mind. pressing himself off against the wall, he bounds over to you, finding himself directly in front of you, his palm pressed against the wall by your head. you gasp and it takes every last bit of him to not devour your sweet sounds. “fuck, we have to get back to the cave.”

your eyes flutter shut as his words breathe across your face, the raspy tone from his voice luring you in. 

“please.” you say again, the words barely above a whisper.

the rubber band snaps and the tension breaks, your bodies surging towards each other, clicking into place as your lips finally collide. the pollen saturating every nerve in your body, an overwhelming tsunami threatening to consume you and take him down with you.

but he wasn’t faring any better. his hands were shaking with need, his movements clumsy, not because they weren’t practiced, but because he had never needed anything more in his life.

he kisses you with a bruising force he usually reserves for when he fights, unable to hold himself back as the pollen dances throughout his veins chanting more, more, more.

visions invade his mind, betraying all the walls he’s so carefully put in place over the years. the amount of times he’s dreamed of having you, the amount of times he’s fisted his cock to the thought of you, was all coming to a burning point. if he didn’t have you now, it felt like his body would disintegrate. 

a groan rips from his throat, rumbling against your lips as he tries to devour you. his hands roam all over your body, almost kneading against every part of you to get a proper feel. but it wasn’t enough.

“have to feel you, please- need you closer.” he manages to choke out, his plump lips swollen with your passion, his dark blue eyes blown all the way out into a dark, stormy abyss. with a small nod of your head, he’s pushing you against the wall, slipping his thigh between your legs. he grinds against your hips, seeking out any sort of relief while also trying to provide you some.

the kiss is hardly graceful — teeth clashing against each other, trying to consume the other. there’s no fight for dominance, no careful hesitance, just pure unabridged desperation. he feels you reach for your mask, already trying to take off anything that serves as a barrier between you and him.

“f-fuck, wait, keep your mask on. we can’t-“ he didn’t finish the sentence as you rolled your hips against him instead, body jerking in his hold. somehow the gravity of the situation rings in his head for a moment. “shit, wait, we should talk about this, right?”

“we’re just helping each other out,” you gasp, kissing along his jaw. your fingers dig into his biceps, voice straining as you try to keep yourself together for a moment. “it hurts so much, i can’t stand it. help me and i’ll help you.”

“can’t say no to that logic.” he picks you up, pressing you against the wall as he presses his aching cock to your core. the relief it brought had his eyes rolling to the back of his head, gripping onto you tighter as his body reacts in a way it’s never done before.

he grinds against your clothed cunt, the fabric of your suits making it easier to hurriedly slide against each other. he wishes he could feel how tightly you’d wrap around him instead of this but he needed release now, and this was the quickest way to get it.

and you’re just as bad as him, bucking your hips against him to gain any sort of friction, your hands pawing all over his body.

“please-“ you whine in his ear, “stop teasing me, let me feel you.” your body felt on fire, something crackling just beneath the surface. the friction you were getting wasn’t enough, giving you pleasure but you also craved more.

“c-can’t.” he gasps, moving his hips faster as he feels a high coming on. “m’close.”

it was all building up deep within him, pleasure fighting pain and hurtling him towards the unknown. but he knew it would help, god, he knew anything with you would save him somehow.

his aching cock was still pressed up against the tight suit he had on, throbbing and pulsing as if it was trying to make its great escape. but the sound of your moan brought him back to the moment, the sweet mewl tumbling out of your lips as you reach your high. it sends him over the edge, cumming in his suit, hips stuttering against yours.

after a moment to catch your breath, you look at each other. the pain and fire are still as strong as ever, in fact, it might even be worse now. he needs to be inside you, feeling your warm walls hold onto him as he releases load after load deep within you.

“we need to-.” he pauses, breath hitching as you start rubbing against him again. the words die in his throat, no longer thinking of the batcave and the antidote. 

“i need more, please we can’t stop here.” you whine, looking up at him. whatever you were doing felt so good, feeding into the unstoppable desire that ignited in him. 

“we need to find somewhere to go.” he decides, holding onto you tightly.

“there’s a safehouse close by.” you suggest and suddenly it was like a veil was lifted. the fog cleared, and all he could see was you. your unfocused eyes, the way you pawed at him, he knew exactly what to do.

“i know the one, let’s go.” he grabs your hand, practically running down the street with you dragging behind him. but you manage to keep up with him. he’s relieved that no one is really out here, even though the night life was never tame in gotham, he considered it a small blessing that the streets were somewhat quiet tonight.

the safehouse was nestled in between a slew of apartments. he easily grabbed the key from under the mat and shoved the door open, the hinges yelling in protest. he all but pushes you inside, slamming the door shut and sealing you both in.

your body hits the door as soon as he closes it, his brute strength easily manhandling you into any position he wants. you were more than ready for it, wrapping your legs around his waist as your heels dig into his perfect ass, pulling him closer.

he groans as you roll your hips against his, trying to get closer to his straining cock. depravity takes over as you're practically humping against each other, shimming out of your suits. some part of you had to still be touching him —  your lips, your hands, anything.

finally, you’re both freed of your restricting clothing, ripping it down just enough so he could gain better access to you, barely caring that he was shredding your hero suit. but it didn’t seem like you minded either as your nails raked against his chest.

“you ready for me?” he fists his aching cock, throbbing and glistening with his cum. the tip was so red, you wondered if he was in any pain — or if it matched the same one you felt in between your thighs. 

“hurry, need you to-” you didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence. 

dick slipped into you with one rough shove, filling you all the way up in one delicious motion. you gasp, throwing your head back into the door at the sudden intrusion, your back arching off of the wooden panel.

“sorry, baby.” his arm slips around your waist, his palm spreading along your back for support. “s’okay, you’re okay, yeah?”

he doesn’t move for a moment to try to let you adjust, his body practically screaming at him for waiting. but he felt so weak for you, couldn’t help but start rocking his hips. it didn’t take long for his urges to take over. 

his hands pushed down onto your waist, steadying himself so he could get deeper. the only thought that crossed his mind was how good you felt, how well you took him — and it only made him more determined to make you fall apart just like you were making him.

why had he waited so long to make a move? he could’ve done this sooner, years ago. it pissed him off, frustrated he’s gone so long without knowing how good your cunt felt wrapped around his cock. the anger only intensifies his thrusts, the door rattling behind you in protest.

“s-slow down!” you cry out, not really thinking of what you were saying. the last thing you wanted was for him to slow down, but everything felt so fast, so overwhelming that your brain couldn’t keep up with it.

“that’s not what you really want.” he grunts out, lips latching onto your neck. he needed to leave little marks on you. a reminder for him that this is really happening, that this is real. he’s finally fucking you. “you’re so tight, you feel so good f’me.”

“all for you, only for you.” you start to babble, drunk off the sensation he‘s feeding you. your legs wrap tighter around his waist, driving him deeper than he already was. his pace stutters for a second, his release already sneaking up on him. “ah- m’already close!”

“me too, baby.” he breathes, his voice raspier than you’ve ever heard it. “please let me cum inside, need to fill you up and breed this pretty pussy.”

you clench around his words, nodding your head profusely, body tightening as electricity shoots through your body as you cum around his cock. your eyes roll to the back of your head as he continues to thrust into you, desperately chasing his own release.

“yes, yes, need it, please!” you moan, practically milking his cock. once you give him the okay, he drives as deep as he can and lets out a broken moan as he fills you up.

“shit.” he grunts out, his breathing far out of his control. he lowers you down, letting you land on your feet. but you can hardly stand, his grip tight on your elbows to keep you upright. the two of you just stare at each other for a moment, trying to process what just happened, what’s currently happening. intense need swarms his mind again and pain spreads throughout his body with every passing second he isn’t inside of you.

instinctively, you drop to your knees, your hand lightly grasping around his slick base. dick lets out a hiss of pleasure, tossing his head back as he feels the slight essence of reprieve. 

“need you in my mouth,” you look up at him, slowly pumping his cock. he twitches in your hand with interest, the sex pollen still sending his body into overdrive. he doesn’t even feel overstimulation, all he feels is lust and the overwhelming need to wreck you.

“go ahead, baby.” you wrap your lips around his cock, hollowing out your cheeks as you get right to work. his eyes roll back and he needs to grip onto the back of your head for support — otherwise he’d fall backwards. “damn, knew you’d be good at this, always running your sweet little mouth whenever you’re around me. feels like heaven.”

you hum in approval, the sensation tickling his tip. you take him in deeper, your hands grabbing onto his ass for support.

“fuck, baby.” he mutters under his breath. normally, you probably wouldn’t have heard it, but the pollen heightened all of your senses when it came to him. his voice sounded so raspy, so desperate, it had you squeezing your thighs together. “please don’t tease me right now or i’ll fuck you against the wall again.”

so you don’t, swallowing his whole length, your pretty eyes filling up with tears as you look up at him. he feels like he’s going to pass out — his head is fuzzy, his thighs are trembling, you have him under your spell and a primitive part of him is screaming at him to fix it.

“i’m gonna cum.” he moans, gripping your hair. he almost lets himself, but it wouldn’t feel fair. he needed you to cum with him. the two of you were in this together. he pushes you off of him, regret already swarming his body as the pollen viciously attacks him again.

“what’s wrong?” you ask, wiping the spit that was pooling in the corner of your mouth. he picked you up, bringing you over to the couch.

“i have to taste you.” he tosses you on the couch, “so you’re gonna sit on my face.”

the way he said it doesn’t leave any room for argument so for once, you listen to him. watching as he sits next to you on the couch. your bodies pivot so he’s laying down instead of you, an eager smile on his face. 

you climb on top of him, going to move your hips over his eagerly awaiting mouth. but he’s impatient, the need to taste you on his tongue is too great. hastily grabbing your hips, he pulls you down on his face. you yelp in surprise, nails digging into his abs to ground yourself. he doesn’t waste a second, diving into the delicious meal you’ve presented him.

even without you touching him, he started to feel his own relief by swirling his tongue around your clit. his hips thrust in the air, unable to control himself. your moans and small gasps of pleasure fuel him to keep going, not planning on stopping until he’s gotten his fill.

he groans into your cunt as you start to take his leaking cock in your warm hands, focusing on his tip. you lean over his body as he holds you firmly in place so you can pull him back in your mouth, engulfing him in an instant.

his hips involuntary jerks up, pushing himself deeper and eliciting a gag from you. he would feel bad but with the way you gushed around his tongue told him otherwise.

“god, you taste incredible.” he mumbles, making sure he’s not missing a drop. but honestly, it’s too much. your slick mixed with his cum has his mind spiraling — the taste settling on his tongue, nestling deep into his senses.

it was all a haze, trying to devour every drop of you, gripping onto your thighs so tightly that if he was thinking more clearly, he might feel bad. but the way your tongue wraps around his cock, your throat enveloping it all the way down, leaves him with very little coherent thoughts.

but he couldn’t stop lapping at your cunt, every tremble, every moan, every taste of you has him wanting more and he knew that this wouldn’t be enough — it might never be enough. you’ve created an insatiable beast that only craves your touch.

“dick, i’m gonna cum-.” you take a gulp of air, using your hand to furiously pump his cock, fingers dancing around his tip as you usher out your words. a flare of pride spikes up with him and shoots throughout his body, his hand getting away from him as he encouragingly slaps against your thigh.

“please, baby. come all over my face.” he knows he sounds wrecked but he doesn’t care. he gets back to work, suckling on your clit more intently than before. your mewls vibrate along his length and he can’t help but thrust into your mouth a little, overly excited at the prospect of you releasing all over him. 

he helps you ride his face, guiding your movements by his grip on your thighs. with a cry of his name, you cum again, gushing all over him. at this point, he could die a happy man, cleaning you up as your thighs shake in his palms.

he’s not sure if it was your skilled mouth, your messy cunt, or the fact he managed to pull that strong of an orgasm from you — but he came in your hand that was still rubbing at his tip.

“f-fuuuuuck.” he moans out, hips jerking in your hold. after a few minutes, he feels you slide off of his face, pivoting yourself and sitting on the couch, head hanging off the back of it.

it had to be over, right? all of the pollen should be out of your systems. he sat up and mirrored your movements, looking over at you to see how you were faring. and you were already looking over at him, half lidded eyes as you were catching your breath. your skin was glistening in sweat, much like his own.

the itch creeped up his neck, sending chills over his body. it definitely wasn’t done and the agony of not touching you anymore was starting to get to his head. he lunges over to you, pinning you on the couch as he lines up his cock once again.

“god, i need to have you.” he breathes, searching your eyes to see if you feel as messed up as he does.

“you’ve got me.” you mewl before looking up and adding, “you’ve always had me.”

“really?” disbelief coats his words, somehow managing to pause his motions even though his body is screaming at him. the fire inside of him is licking at the tightly wound coil within him, but somehow he’s able to push it down — even if it’s just for a moment. but he needs to hear this, needs to hear you.

“i’ve-” you start squirming under him, no doubt feeling that same fire he did. he almost felt a little bad by delaying your gratification but god, he really needs this. he can’t tell if the tears forming in your eyes are from the pollen or from the emotion that’s been building up after all these years.  “i’ve always loved you dick.”

his hormones fly out of control, his hold tightening against you. every nerve in his body tells him to move but he’s somehow frozen, transfixed on your confession. 

“i love you so much.” he manages to choke out, desire boiling in his gut once again, fueled by the sweet words he’s been dying to hear from you. it was too much, the overwhelming itch consuming him once again as “fuck, ‘m sorry, need to-.”

he doesn’t finish the sentence, instead he’s plunging into your warm, welcoming walls. fitting together like a puzzle piece that was always destined to connect. the pollen swirls with the love shared between you two and he can’t help but ruthlessly drive into you, relishing in your sharp cries of pleasure.  

his cock slips out of you, exasperated groans both leaving your lips and into each others mouth. he reluctantly pulls apart from you, shoving himself back where he belongs before he resumes his pace.

“dick, more-.”

something shatters within him. he couldn’t say it was self control — that had long been gone. but something else deep within him broke by your hands and yet, he could already feel you mending it back up.

there’s no way to tell the passage of time, but none of that mattered to him anyway. all he could do was revel in the warmth of your soft, silken walls. his eyes scan over your face, taking in your blissed out state no doubt mirroring his own.

it had him wanting — craving more. like a man starved who had his first bite, who wouldn’t be sated until he had his fill.

dick’s movements were even faster now that his body could hardly keep up. his cock slipped out of you again, and he let out a strangled sob.

everything was just so wet, both of your bodies coated in a mixture of sweat, spit and cum. he felt your slick coat his thighs, your saliva mark his neck — every inch of his skin is completely covered by your essence.

he drives himself back into you, humping against you as he chases another release. everything was burning up the longer he staved off. at this point, he needed to keep filling you up. you made it so easy for him too, greedily sucking him back in every thrust, squeezing around him so tightly his head was spinning.

driven by pure instinct, he pushes your thighs against your chest, pushing himself deeper into you. 

“wanna take my time with you s’badly.” he rasps out, hands pushing against your legs. “but you just feel s’good i can’t stop.”

his mouth hung open as unsteady breaths left his lungs, trying to gulp up any air he could. but he’d much rather breathe in the sight below him, watching you sprawled out for him, sucking him into your pretty cunt has his mind short circuiting.

“you take me so well, you’re so good to me.” he babbles, eyes squeezed shut for a moment to soak it all in. “you were made f’me.”

his head falls forward and he feels a bead of sweat drop down the side of his face. your trained eye watched it fall, before you lean up and lick it clean off of him. he gasps in surprise, lips chasing yours once again.  

at this point, you really couldn’t call it kissing. your lips were pressed against each other but neither of you could move them properly. just unsteady breaths and moans keeping the two of you connected as pleasure overrides your senses.

arousal pours like gasoline beneath his abdomen, your pleas serving as a match to ignite his body into flames. the pollen warps his mind, drunk on your taste and only craving more of it. 

but he needed you to cum first. he was still trying his best to help you, to relieve you of any pain. he doesn’t know how long it’ll take but he needs you to at least cum as much as he does. 

“oh god, oh, it’s never, fuck, felt like this before, so good-“ you moan out, arching your back up so he can get deeper. 

“i know baby, i know.” he keeps going, harder than he had before. “you’re so, so good to me.”

it was all too much for you, clinging onto him as he relentlessly thrusts into you. he watches as your body freezes in his grasp, bliss saturating all your features, before you forcefully come around his cock.

he wasn’t much further behind, gripping the back of the couch and pushing his hips flush against yours as he fills you up once again. 

the pollen was still tingling in his system, he could feel it. but he felt so drowsy, and he knew you were too. he presses his forehead against yours as your legs fall helplessly by his sides.

“you okay?” he can hardly recognize his own voice.

“mhm, you?” you ask, your eyes fluttering shut for a second. he sees your face constrict with pain and he knows you feel what he feels. it’s not over yet.

“can you handle another round?” he asks, gently caressing your cheek, wiping off what was either sweat or tears. it took so much not to jump you, but the desire was starting to lessen and becoming easier to control, but that didn’t change the fact he was still so damn weak around you. one more round would soothe it all, he can feel it.

“can you?” you laugh breathlessly, always trying to challenge him. a lazy smirk takes up his face as he adjusts you, sitting back against the couch and pulling you up into his lap. his fingers rub little circles along your hips before he digs his fingers in.

“since you’re so confident, why don’t you show me how it’s done.” he meant to sound cocky, but his voice came out twisted with need and desperation.

“with pleasure.” you grab a hold of his still hard cock, lining it up with your sopping entrance, cum from the previous rounds dripping down your thigh. he can’t help but swipe some on his finger, playing with the slightly sticky substance.

you slide down on his cock, moaning the entire way down. all he can do is look up at you, unconsciously sliding the two coated fingers in your open mouth.

you swirl your tongue around them, sucking them clean as well as you were sucking him off earlier. he moans, head hitting the back of the couch as you start rolling your hips.

“you’re so pretty — fuck — i mean, just look at you.” he slurs, eyes glued to where you were connected. his fingers leave your mouth, sliding down your body. “you’re the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen.”

your nails dig into his shoulders, using it as leverage to grind yourself more in his lap, his neatly trimmed pubic hair brushing along your swollen clit.

he slumps back a bit, letting you take control and take what you need. mesmerized by the way your tits jiggle with each movement, he wraps his tongue around your nipple before giving it a sloppy, open mouthed kiss.

he was lazy with his movements, swirling his tongue around the perked bud and nuzzling his face against it. the more he touches them, the more he needs to. 

your hips drag along his, bodies pressed together as it feels like lead fills your bones. but you can’t stop moving against him.

“want you to be mine.” he moans against your tits, thrusting up into you more as he feels himself getting close. all he needs to hear is your confirmation that you’ll finally be his. “say you’ll be mine.” 

“m’yours!” your cry out at the increase of pace, fingers digging into his hair as he leaves his mark all over your breasts. “i’m all yours.”

with one final groan, his hips jerk up a few times, releasing another load into your already overflowing cunt. the grip on your hips loosen as his forehead lands on your shoulder, wincing as you keep going to chase your release. overstimulation was starting to creep up on him as the pollen started to clear out of his system. but he didn’t care, he’d keep going as long as you need him to.

“c’mon baby.” he slurs, leaving open mouthed kisses along your collarbone before looking up at you like you summon the sun every morning, beaconing it with your radiant, blissed out smile. “you’re doing s’good for me, give me another one c’mon.”

“cant, i’m trying but i need more.” you move your hips a little faster with a whine of his name tumbling from your lips.

“i’m right here, fuck baby, let go f’me. you’ll feel so much better i promise.” his fingers slip in between your bodies, thumb pressing firmly against your clit as you keep riding him. it sends you over the edge, gripping onto his shoulders and tossing your head back. he’s never seen a more ethereal view and if he could’ve, he would’ve cum all over again at the sight alone.

he doesn’t move his thumb as you ride out your high, squirming around in his lap as pleasure courses throughout your body. he lets go after you start twitching in his grasp, showing you mercy for the first time tonight.

you collapse into a heap on his chest, your heart racing as you try to catch your breath. he feels you curl into him, exhaustion starting to take you. he’s still nestled inside of you, with no desire to move. 

he blinks a few times, starting to take in his surroundings. you guys definitely messed up the couch. anyone who passes through this safehouse will see the traces you two left behind for weeks to come. the thought makes him smirk a little bit.

his phone buzzes and somewhere deep in his fucked out mind he realizes he should check. he’s still technically on patrol. with one arm still securing tucked around you, he uses the other to grab his phone.

everything is a little blurry, the fog still clouding his mind, his eyes drooping as he tries to read it. your soft snores start to fill his ears as he opens the text from tim, reading the line over and over a few times in hopes of processing it better. but then he gets it — clear as day. it was from tim.

“let me guess. you stopped at a safehouse.”

another text.

“have fun explaining this one to bruce.”

taglist : @the-tenth-shadow @petriquors @boogiebooboo @lucifersidepiece @oikawabi-sabi @collin-thegreat ᰔ

[lilyofporcelain]

DWC - 23 Nov - Day 7 - Peculiar / Theory

Lady Laeynna Emberflame, In the past, your knowledge and research has been an undeniable asset to some of us within the Society. Many years have come and gone since our paths last crossed, and I trust this letter finds you well. An opportunity has presented once more, if you find yourself with idle hands and the time in which to use them. Research is being conducted on soil along the Lordaeronian coastline. Rumours of potential contamination as we investigate further. The Society would benefit from your assistance and you will be well-compensated, as you have been in the past for your invaluable efforts. We encourage you to bring your research and make use of our laboratory in return for your assistance. If you are able to pry yourself away from the gruelling day-to-day affairs of elven society, make way for the Sepulcher. You will be welcomed here. Sincerely, Renferrel Apothecary, R.A.S.

Laeynna’s face pulled as she studied the contents of the missive she received and she poised a corner idly along her bottom lip in thought. She couldn’t quite remember when she’d last received one. For a period of time after she’d found herself removed from the lands she was so familiar with, her talents had been put to use with the Society. On occasion. Never really aware of what their aims might have been, she’d consider it a more pleasant way to spend some of her free time and to line her satchels with coin. Given she faced a very uncertain future with a very unstable income as she watched her life change before her eyes, it was, in fact, an opportunity.

Nerves fluttered along the deeper parts of her person, however. Ever since Zaihne had seen her back from the City of Threads, she had largely hidden herself in really only two places. Neither of which were hers and as a result, left her feeling uneasy. The nightmares had somewhat stopped. Sort of. Some nights were better than other ones. She had learnt to better keep herself composed, regardless.

In truth, she needed to get away. The red and gold was stifling. It didn’t have to be forever, but she knew that leaving for at least a few days, breathing air that was elsewhere, having space that didn’t leave her obsessing over every little detail on how she might approach the future and what she was going to do would have likely done her heart and mind a great deal of good. Not an escape. Just enough time to put her thoughts elsewhere because banging her head against the proverbial wall had done nothing beneficial. It had only upset her and chipped away at her ordinarily rather rigid and stone-like composure.

The wanting to leave part was easy. The actual action of leaving was harder. What if something happened? Eyeing her free hand and studying the palm, pensive, Laeynna wondered if it would be more worth it to consider hiring escort. Not simply for this trip, but for any others. Something to guarantee her safety. Where once she had not been concerned about travelling anywhere on her own, memories of her experiences beneath the earth changed that. Drastically. Every time she’d thought about resuming her studies, her stomach knotted up, and not even the most pleasantly warm cup of tea did anything about it.

No. An escort would be needed. How many? Not a group. Laeynna did not like travelling with groups. Too many people to keep an eye on. Too many people to be looking over her shoulder for. One could satisfy if they were capable enough. Could carry her things for her, even. The trip was a decent one in length if she took the route she cared to. But that also meant spending days with a person she likely didn’t know. What if she found she couldn’t stand them?

Laeynna’s eyebrows knit thoughtfully. I suppose I could ignore them if it came to that. It was not as though she was looking for a conversation companion. She was perfectly content to travel in silence. It would give her time to work on her own research along the way.

Freeing a quiet sigh, she carefully folded up the parchment and slowly nodded. Yes. It was a good idea. Yes, she wanted to do it. Yes, she would need to work out some of the details. And at least a couple of conversations would need to be had.

…It would be fine.

Probably.

— @daily-writing-challenge

[no-thoughts-only-soup]

To Secure/Risk it all

Chapter 7

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

----------------------------------------------

They were running. Running and shooting. Running and shooting while Curt narrated it all.

“Christian shoots the three guards in front of us while Den chucks a knife at the guy coming from the right, and Ivan— SHIT!”

Curt ducked around the corner, bullets blazing past where he’d been a second ago.

Fuck, this was harder than he thought. Then again, usually when he was narrating there was no pressure or incoming danger, much less running around. This was far worse than a regular scenario. Simply narrating the enemies away didn’t work either; turns out that outside interference wasn’t controllable like their made-up mooks they usually sicced on each other. And that meant no Thanos-snapping them away. The only thing he could do was use his power to allow his friends to go on a killing spree.

“Curt? A bit of help here!” Ivan shouted, pointing at another set of guards running towards them.

Pushing aside his thoughts, Curt focused. “Ivan shoots the first guy, he explodes and takes out the rest.”

Ivan did, but then immediately turned around and frowned at Curt. “Wait how? Do the guards here just carry explosives around or something?”

Christian laughed heartily. “We’re literally getting shot at and Ivan’s all like ‘wait that’s not realistic’.”

“Wait, wait! Can I have a bazooka?” Kristine loudly asked.

“Fuck it, sure. Kristine pulls out a bazooka and blasts the guys Ivan shot at; making them explode.”

“YEAAHHHHHHH!” She whooped as a large bazooka materialized in her hands and then took a shot at more guards.

“Now we’re talking.” Den smirked. “Gimme me one next.”

Before he could, though, Den’s eyes widened and she suddenly grabbed his wrist, pulling him around the corner. Christian took down a few more guards and they all started running again.

Damn, he really should’ve let Den narrate. Not only did he continuously have to narrate everything to keep their powers working, but he and Kristine were the only ones with any knowledge of the facility’s layout. And Kristine was too busy playing shooting gallery with the guards. Meaning he was the only one to guide them at the moment.

“Den, uh, mows down the guys in front, Ivan takes — oh god — down the ones from the right. Kristine — shit — blasts behind her—“

Suddenly, Christian and Ivan pushed him down behind a few conveniently placed crates — and bullets rained above them.

“Yo Curt, got a plan?” Christian yelled above the loud noises. “Cuz I doubt we’re gonna make it running around like this!”

Curt hissed as a bullet flew by a bit too close for his liking. “Front gate gotta be packed, but I was hoping to get to the garage anyways. If we can get a truck…”

“Curt, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re getting pinched from all sides here!” Ivan snarkily remarked, arms coiled around his gun. Not that there was an opening to shoot back.

“Kristine, if I focus on keeping us alive, can you guide us to the garage?” Curt asked her, pressing himself down to the ground as the wall behind them slowly started whittling down, showering them with bits of brick, plaster and other kinds of debris. “You also know where the garage is, right?”

Kristine stared blankly at him. “Uhhhhhh…”

“KRISTINE!”

Christian cut between the two of them. “Ok, not to be a party pooper, but even if we do that, we don’t know if they’re guarding that too. We could be walking into an ambush for all we know.”

Curt paused, thought, and sighed. “You’re right. We’ve got no clue on where to go. Ugh, if only one of us could scout ahead, but they’d get shot instantly…”

Suddenly, Den waved her arm, grabbing their attention, all while smiling widely. “Wait, wait! Let me stab Ivan!”

“Den! Now’s not the time!” Ivan protested. “Can you pause your murder hobo tendencies for one second?”

“No, no, I actually have a good reason this time!” Den grinned, waiting in her explanation for Christian and Kristine to finish firing back at the guards when they reloaded, and finally returning to save cover. “If one of us dies in a scenario, they become a ghost, right? So if I kill Ivan, he can go through the walls and scout ahead!”

They all paused, letting the words sink in. And then they fell into a cacophony of agreements.

“Wait, actually…”

“YES! YES!”

“Oh damn, she’s cooking.”

It even swayed Ivan’s stance as he shuffled closer to her. “Alright, not gonna lie, that’s a good argument. Ok, stab me Den. Stab me like one of your French girls.”

And as they all giggled, an idea popped into Curt’s head, and he smiled devilishly.

“Actually, wait.” He interrupted them. “I’ve got a better idea…”

Ivan raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Curt grinned, and he could almost see the chill running up Ivan’s spine. “Remember how you saw SCP-096’s — the Shy Guy’s — face? Which triggers him?”

Ivan was silent for a whole 5 seconds, slowly processing what Curt said. Until it clicked.

“Oh wait, OH SHIT!”

“Close your eyes!” Curt yelled at the rest of them as his squeezed his eyes shut. “The Shy Guy bursts through the wall…”

And just as he said, there was a large noise as the wall behind them practically blew up, and Ivan screamed.

Ivan’s gonna kill me later for this. “…And KILLS Ivan!”

His words were followed by an inhuman screech. A second later, a bloodcurdling and sickening crunch of bones being violently broken. Curt could feel a warm liquid splatter onto his face. It tasted like iron.

The noises fell to a brief, chilling silence. Silence that was broken by panicked screaming and shooting a distance away. Another terrifying screech, and just like Curt predicted, the squad of guards that had been firing at them were audibly slaughtered.

But he still kept his eyes closed. He still couldn’t risk it. And he kept them closed as the sounds of the beast slowly started getting farther and farther away.

Ivan’s voice rang out. “You guys can look, it’s gone.”

And while it was an exercise of trust, Curt did indeed open his eyes. And winched upon seeing Ivan’s mangled corpse.

“Damn he really did a number on ya.” Christian offhandedly remarked, though Curt could sense the shock creeping in his voice.

“Yeah, I need to step up my stabbing game after this.” Den noted, eyes wide.

“Wait,” Kristine suddenly piped up “if we all turn into ghosts, why don’t we just kill each other and float out of here?”

Curt winced. He had thought about that option. Ever since he found out about the truth. It seemed like a good idea. But there was an issue…

“We don’t know how the resurrection works exactly. We come back to life, yeah, but what if that means we return to our bodies? If we leave them behind, that just means we’re literally handing ourselves to the foundation.”

Christian groaned. “Aw man, that means we gotta drag Ivan’s corpse around.”

Den chuckled. “He’s literally dead weight.”

They all laughed at that, and although they couldn’t tell because of the sunglasses, they knew Ivan was rolling his eyes at them. “Whatever, not my problem anymore.”

Curt rolled his eyes back at him. “Go scout already.”

And Ivan huffed for a split second before flying through the wall. Curt narrated how they stuffed Ivan’s corpse into a backpack (a pink one with rainbows, of course) which Den volunteered to carry. Curt noted how the weight of a whole body didn’t seem to hinder her, until he reminded himself of the reality warping powers and put it to rest.

The sounds of footsteps suddenly got louder, and they booked it.

It would have been nice if Ivan could warn them ahead, Curt mused. But it was more important to know whether or not there was an escape route.

“Just how big is this place?” Den complained as she turned yet another corner.

“To be honest I never paid any attention to the map.” Kristine confessed. She briefly turned around and shot one of the guards that were chasing after them.

Christian copied her. “Curt?”

“I dunno man,” Curt panted as he tried to work out the best route “I’m starting to think they gave me a false map.”

“And why are there so many guards!?” Kristine yelled as the two she shot were quickly replaced. “Seriously I don’t remember there being this many!”

“Let’s focus on surviving until Ivan returns!” Curt half-yelled, though in the back of his mind, a small voice wondered if they could.

They were suddenly stopped when a broadcast screen lightened up. It showed a bit of static before the screen turned white, with a single black arrow pointing down the hallway.

Curt’s brain broke for a moment, but he didn’t get time to gather himself, as Kristine grabbed his hand and pulled him to that same hallway.

“Wait!” He yelled after her. “Why are we following that?”

“Because they’re helping us, duh!” She yelled back.

Curt pulled his hand from her grasp, but he kept running with the group. “And you’re just gonna trust some random ass monitor!?”

“Well, if it’s the same person who helped us last time, we can trust them, right?” Den pointed out.

“AND WHAT IF THEY AREN’T!?” Curt yelled back. “AM I THE ONLY ONE NOT TRUSTING THIS!?”

But they still ran, and as the last word left Curt’s lips, another monitor lightened up, though this one did not display an arrow. Instead, it showed them a message:

- Curt has the right emotion, find the room that belongs to it.

Beat.

“BITCH IS THERE A DISTRUST ROOM!? ONLY SANE PERSON ROOM!?”

But Christian and Den looked at each other. “Panic room.” They nodded.

And Curt… sighed. “Well, you’re not wrong…”

“Besides,” Christian smirked, “you really think we’re gonna get anywhere with Kristine at the front and Ivan scouting ahead.”

“Hey!”

“Nah, you got a point.” Curt conceded, also realizing everyone was getting tired. “Alright, you know the way Kristine?”

“Yes! I know some things you know!”

And they laughed as they ran, Kristine guiding them. Something tugged in the back of Curt’s mind, but it was to preoccupied by keeping everyone alive to see what it was. Only when they neared the panic room was it that Curt mentally paused, and his eyes widened.

“Guys, wait! We can’t go in! If we do we’ll be trapped like-“

But they already barged inside, dragging Curt with them, Den slamming the door shut the second everyone was in.

“…rats.” Curt sighed.

A ghostly form took their attention, shrugging. “Well, all the exits are packed, so we’re stuck here anyways.” Ivan noted. Although he said it nonchalantly, there was an tense undertone in his voice.

Kristine raised an eyebrow. “You got here quick.”

“Remember the same weirdo from the last SCP shenanigans? They told me to come to the panic room.”

“And they didn’t use a riddle?” Den questioned, until the obvious zinger got her to grin.

Christian beat her to the punch. “Of course not, Ivan wouldn’t have figured that shit out!”

Kristine and Den laughed with Christian, with Ivan pouting at them. Even Curt could feel a chuckle bubbling up from his throat, but the severity of the situation prevented him from laughing outright. They were trapped. At any moment, the foundation, no, Snee and his goons would figure out where they were. They were ripe for picking.

At that moment, just in time to stop him from having another panic attack, one of the computer screens lit up. And before their eyes, words were typed on the screen.

- Good! You’re all here!

“Dude, who even are you?” Ivan asked. “Are you with the foundation or not?”

The computer screen trilled unexpectedly, almost reminiscent of laughter.

- Come on Ivan, I know you’re not the smartest ಥ‿ಥ

The emoji caught Curt off guard, but the person started typing again.

- But did you really forget about me that quickly? (✪㉨✪)

And it hit Curt like a truck.

…No. It’s impossible.

“…Chilly?”

------------------------------------------------------

Note: I don't end chapters based on word count. I end them on how much of punch the cliffhanger is.

[nathanbatemanfucker]

summary: never wanted love, just a fancy car.

pairing: cowgirl!reader x cowboy!din

contents: 18+/nsfw/smut, cowboy au, typical Wild West violence & values (murder, stealing), flirting, pining, perceived unrequited feelings, yearning (if you squint)

wc: 4k

an: part two comin at yaaaaa. these two are so special to me. reader does have a code name in this that she uses, so if your name is scarlet sorry in advance!

series masterlist | writing masterlist

ch 1: takes one to know one

You don’t discuss the logistics or practicality of sticking together, you just do it. After meandering in Strawberry a few days longer to garner more money and supplies the two of you head southeast.

Din has a tent. You’ve gotten used to traveling as light as possible and staying in structures that already exist so as not to draw attention to yourself. But you already feel safer traveling with him. You feel yourself loosening up in the wake of his companionship and competency. And in that, you find a discomfort you’re not ready to unpack.

The town you end up in after dabbling in Strawberry– Cheyenne– is the closest thing you’ve seen to a true city. There are talks and whispers of New York and all the structure and opportunity it brings. Bustling with thousands of folk, buggies, art, and theater. Not to mention proper plumbing. But, settling down isn’t an option right now– or ever—you quickly remind yourself, as not to get your hopes up for something that doesn’t exist. Besides, you’re not sure you could ever imagine yourself working a steady job. Staying put in one place sounds so…stagnant.

Cheyenne is markets in back alleys, crowded streets, and a view of the sea. You’re grateful for the cool, salty air of the coast during this hellish summer. But the city has its cons: mixed in with the salty air is the stench of pollution that comes with such a populated place. Its lawman force— ever present and large— works to you and Din’s disadvantage. The work you do is harder in a place like this but the spoils will last you ten times over than in places like Strawberry or Annesburg.

You and Din have taken a room at an inn close to the edge of the city. You’ve just returned from a bath down the hall, one that was well overdue. Din’s already dressed in sleeping clothes, his hair wet and slicked back from his own bath. For just a moment you wonder what his hair feels lik. If it's as soft or thick as it looks. Whatever spell that is breaks when he closes his eyes as you enter in just a towel, turning over in the bed.

There’s nothing there for him, not that you can pick up. It shouldn’t matter, there’s nothing there for you either. He’s your partner, life has been so much better with him at your side already. It runs smoother, it feels safer. The fuzzy, unfocused picture that you were living in sharpened. Why would either of you even think to jeopardize something that works so well with the simple thought of more? You won’t.

“There’s a big wig in this city. Robert Leroy— folks call him Bobby,” You say to distract yourself from the sinking feeling in your stomach.

“What’s he got to do with anythin’? We’ve got our targets.”

You and Din had stopped at the jail as soon as you’d entered the city, eager to pick up as many bounties as you could. It earns you some trust with the lawmen and gives you an excuse to meander the city at any time, asking questions to get the lay of the land and search for real targets. This time it was easier than that, but it doesn’t mean you won’t maximize your time here, exploring every possible avenue of income.

“Bobby is the reason they’re our targets. I used my charm on the sheriff, he says Bobby’s the one who put the price on their heads. We get them and maybe we get invited to that big fancy party that’s next week.”

You aren’t able to see it, but Din frowns, teeth gritting at the mention of using your charm. He should be used to it by now, and it should never bother him. But in the recesses of his mind, there’s no denying that it does. None of those men deserve to look at you, let alone witness your charm.

“Party,” Din repeats, sounding skeptical.

“It’s at his house. His mansion. The one full of expensive shit,” You explain as you slip into the only thing of your mother’s you have left— an old, scratchy nightgown.

“You’re still not sellin’ it, girl.”

“We can’t pass up all the riches in that man’s house, Din. You’ll have to deal. I’ll charm, you’ll steal and we’ll leave this place,” You insist as you slide into bed next to him, facing away so that your backs are just a few inches apart.

Din’s body radiates heat and despite the sweltering heat, you stay beneath the blanket with him. Sometimes if the two of you sleep close enough to the other, you’ll wake up tangled in his arms the next morning. Neither of you say anything about it, going about those mornings as if they’re any other. And maybe they are.

“Do we gotta?”

“Strawberry’s reapings will only last so long,” You reason, glancing over your shoulder at him.

“You charm, I steal,” He repeats his version of your words and you can hear the mirth in his sandy voice.

“I just said that.”

“Did you? I didn’t hear,” He stretches, snuggling further in the mattress.

“You’re full of shit.”

He snorts, shaking his head, “Go to bed, girl, we’ve got busy days ahead.”

Din was right— the next week the two of you work from sunrise to sunset capturing all the bounties you’d collected from the sheriff. Some are easier than others, frequented black markets or popular bars for folk that run in your lifestyle.

But there’s one that’s tedious to catch; Stagecoach Mary, a notorious cowgirl who you’ve always admired all holed up in her little shack that rests in its own little bayou just outside of the city. The shootout with her eats up most of your ammo, and a bullet ends up grazing your arm. Din gets Mary hog-tied and strapped to his horse before he comes to check on you. He’s deathly quiet like he always is, but you can feel the urgency in his movements. He removes your button-down without asking, using some of the water in his canteen to cleanse the wound before he covers it in salve and wraps it.

“You alright?” He asks quietly as he helps you back into your shirt.

Your eyes go a bit wide at the raw sound of concern in his voice, but you quickly brush it off, “S’just a scratch, I’ll be just fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure, Din,” You say gently, and though it stings like a bitch, you aren’t going to say differently. The last thing your resolve needs is him fawning over you, worried about your health.

His gaze raises to meet yours, eyes narrowing to appraise you before he sighs and starts towards his horse. Mary is quiet on the ride back thankfully, and when you drop her off at the sheriff’s office, you get exactly what you two have been working so hard for. Bobby himself is there– the sheriff had told him about you and Din, how promising your skills had been so far and he wanted to thank you both personally.

He looks like money, with frills and shiny leather shoes, his hair slicked back with a pomade that smells like pine, ““I can’t thank you fine people enough. She’s been a real thorn in my side.”

You take the hand he’s offered, shaking it daintly, “We’re happy to help Mr. LeRoy, no one should have to leave in fear.”

Leroy squeezes your hand before bending to kiss it, “Please, sweetheart, call me Bobby.”

You giggle softly, batting your eyelashes at him, “Bobby, then. I’m Scar. This is my partner Djarin.”

Din blinks in surprise before quickly schooling his expression into the impassive mask he’s so good at. It's the first that he’s heard of your name. He knows that this is part of the charm, knows that you wouldn’t give this man– or any man– your real name, but curiosity blooms inside of him. Had you just picked it randomly? Did it have any deeper meaning? Is it close to your real name?

“Scar? As in Scarlet? What a precious little gem,” Bobby runs his hand down the length of your arm, turning to look at Din with a glint of jealousy in his eyes. “Djarin, bet you never get enough of this sweet woman’s charm.”

“We aren’t— she’s my workin’ partner, s’all,” Din says firmly, though the way that he clenches his jaw says otherwise.

But who is Bobby to tell a grown man how he truly feels? Especially if he can reap benefits. He grins, turning back to look at you, “Well I’ll be hog wallered, I thought a dime like you’d be taken, Scar. If that’s true…I’m having this grand party in just a few days. Come, the both of you.”

“Oh, we couldn’t Bobby!”

“I insist!”

A sly grin spreads across your face and you smooth your hand over his, “Well if you insist. We’ll be there.”

A few nights later, after spending the days in fitting rooms, shopping (and stealing), you and Din are finishing up getting ready for the party in your inn room. You peek around the partition to make sure that he’s dressed and your mouth goes dry. He’s in a sleek black suit, the silver accents of his belt buckle and cowboy boots glinting in the last rays of sun that flood the small room. He looks incredible, his hair wet and slicked back, skin scrubbed completely clean. You lean back, bracing yourself against the wall as you force those thoughts out of your head. A distraction, you need a distraction. You look down at your dress, toying with the skirts– perhaps your distraction could be in distracting him.

“How do I look?” You ask as you step from behind the partition, holding your arms out as if to present yourself.

Din simply stares at you, and you’re about to tell him to forget it when he finally speaks. “You look—“ He stops, going quiet for what seems like forever before he clears his throat.

“What, is it? I look bad, don’t I? It’s stuffy, but we gotta look the part.” Your head tilts as you turn this and that way, watching the skirt flutter as you twirl.

“You look—it’s good,” He supplies, turning towards the mirror to fiddle with his tie. He swallows, ignoring the way the fabric of his tie sticks to his sweaty hands.

You turn to look at him, frown deepening as you smooth your hands down the intricate corset of the dress, “You sure? I need him to look at me, and if it’s not pleasin'—“

“It’s plenty pleasin’, now finish up and let’s go.”

You and Din rented a carriage, standing out to others invited would just make this evening worse. The ride– like most of your traveling with Din– is quiet, and you fiddle with your fingers, forcing yourself not to pick at the polish you’d gotten down for the occasion.

The mansion is grand, all cream with pillars and statues so delicate they look fit to shatter if you look at them wrong. You’re guided inside by men dressed in impeccable suits, hor devours and glasses of champagne pressed into your hands as you make your way through the expansive foyer and down the stairs into an even large backyard.

This is something you could only imagine in those moving pictures you’ve only had time to see once or twice. There are tables full of food and alcohol, droves of people dressed to the nines dancing and laughing and eating. And while you’re impressed, disgust accompanies it. The excess when there are so many who don’t have enough to make it a week. You’d seen plenty of unhoused folks on the streets as you and Din explored Cheyenne and this party could feed them all for days on end. You swallow your disdain for everyone here by focusing on the goal and painting a smile on your face as you breeze through the crowd. Try as you might, you can’t find Bobby so you park at a table that’s moderately far from the various groups of others.

“Maybe he hasn’t come out yet,” You whisper to Din as you pretend to look over some of the food. It looks so fancy that it’ll make you sick.

“Stay here and watch for’em, I’ll see what I can find out.”

Your eyes don’t leave him as he skates through the crowd easily and your mouth turns down in a frown when he’s stopped by a beautiful woman. To your surprise, he doesn’t blow her off, smiling as he begins to talk to her. You’ve never seen Din like this before. In the short month or so that you two have been together, you’ve been the lead on charming as all the places you’ve been in teem with men and their testosterone. You aren’t sure what this feeling is that rises in your chest as you watch the woman Din is talking to throw her head back with laughter. What you do know is that you want to end. Your feet are moving you towards him before you can think logically about it.

“Djarin, could I speak to you for a moment?” You say in your sweetest, most polite voice— emphasis on your southern drawl.

The woman he’s speaking to gives you a smile that doesn’t touch her eyes.

Din excuses you both, walking you over to a quiet spot beneath an ice sculpture that is surprisingly intact despite the heat of tonight’s air, “What is it, girl?”

Delicately as not to draw anyone’s attention, you remove your arm from his grasp, mouth pressed into a thin line, “What the hell happened to ‘you charm, I steal’?”

“She’s been in the house before. I was gettin’ the lay of it. You ain’t doing much charming if you’re chewin’ me out, are you? Look who it is.”

Bobby has finally made an appearance.

You narrow your eyes at him but stay silent. Din just stares back, unphased and you eventually give up, slinking off to do your part. To charm. Once you’re by his side, Bobby stays close to you like a bee stuck in honey– it's annoying really but this life has given you incredible acting skills so he’s none the wiser.

Lucky for you he gets distracted by some bigwig oil men who start to throw around some big numbers. You stand by his side, listening politely– gathering the names of these men just in case you ever run into them again– until you grow bored. You excuse yourself to the powder room, assuring him that you’ll return shortly as you leave the sweetest kiss on his cheek. You feel the way he shivers against you, his eyes cloudy as he nods.

Not long after you’d gone to talk to Bobby you’d seen Din slip out of the crowd and into the house. It may be a pain to find him a place this large but if you’re caught it’ll be realistic to play a dizzy, turned-around maiden.

As soon as you’re out of sight you spit, wiping your mouth with your sleeve in a move most unladylike as you try to find Din. The halls are empty, it seems as if Bobby’s staff is either occupied with entertaining guests or off for the evening.

“Up here, girl,” Din calls from above you, and when your eyes meet he holds up a sack that looks fit to burst. The smile that spreads across his face is different than the one he’d given the woman he talked to early, this one is genuine and it makes your heart flutter.

“How’s it going?” You ask once you make your way up to the stairs to stand beside him.

“Good, last room we got left is his office. C’mon.”

You follow after him closely, keeping your steps light like a cat so as not to draw any attention from below. When the two of you turn a corner down the final hall which holds Bobby’s office, there are two guards— one blonde, one brunette— standing outside of the door that is gilded in gold. You roll your eyes at its gaudiness but step forward with wide, guileless eyes.

“I’m sorry you two, it seems we’ve got lost trying to find the powder room. Could you help us?” You bat your lashes at the two men, standing up a little taller to push your breasts out.

“Back the way you came, down the stairs, to the left,” the blonde one says, unaffected by your attempt at charm.

Nevertheless, you try again, getting a little closer to the brunette, whose eyes have had a hard time staying on your face.

You gaze up at him with puppy dog eyes, “Could you maybe walk us? I mean— we are lost.”

You raise your hand to fiddle with the distracted guard’s tie, but the first one’s hand shoots out, wrapping tightly around your wrist. You gasp, looking over at the guard in feigned offense, like you’re some helpless maiden– like you wouldn’t slit his throat if your knife wasn’t buried under so many layers of fabric.

“It would do you best to walk away ma’am or I’ll have to call the lawmen,” The blonde says, his grip tightening around your wrist until it makes you wince.

Din takes a step forward, his voice so low and rough it sends a welcome chill down your spine. You don’t have to look at him to know how terrifying he looks right now, “No, it would do you best to let her go or I’ll have to crush your windpipe.”

“You threatenin’ me, yokel?”

You lean closer to the brunette guard, grimacing as you say, “Well this ain’t gonna end well is it?”

His eyes widen for a moment, flickering behind you and you know that Din is moving, already going in for the kill. You do your best to pry your hand from the other guard’s grip but it is tight, and as you struggle the one in front of you struggles to get his gun. As soon as your hand is free you reach for his neck, planting your feet so that you’ll have the strength to snap his neck. There’s a loud crack from beside you before you can get your hands in the right place, and your glance over to Din, seeing the way he followed through— the man's face is red and limp, the blood vessels in his eyes busted.

You regret getting off track because it seems the guard still alive is successful, getting off one shot that flies up into the ceiling. Refocusing, you knee him in the stomach, and his gun clatters to the ground just as you get your hands around his neck and twist as hard as you can.

“Fuck,” You breathe as the second man’s body hits the floor. His gunshot will absolutely draw attention, you and Din need to move quickly.

“In and out, no safes, whatever is unlocked and out in the open.”

You follow his instructions with no hesitation, stepping over the two bodies and moving through Bobby’s office with ease. There are solid gold paperweights, stacks of bonds, maps of train routes and what they’ll be holding, and even a few stacks of money in drawers. It's a jackpot if you’ve ever seen one and the two of you share a look of wonder before kicking it into gear to get out of there. You can hear the footsteps of lawmen rumbling through the house and give Din the signal to move into the room across the hall– it's another powder room. The two of you squeeze into the shower, listening intently as the lawmen call to each other, trying to figure out where you’ve gone.

You hear a voice say, “They must’ve gotten by us. Comb the streets.”

That works perfectly in your favor, and you grin over a Din, knowing that the streets are not how you plan to escape. As soon as the coast is clear, Din grabs your hand, leading you the opposite way of all the lawmen and house staff that have started towards Bobby’s office and bedroom. The two of you sneak out a side door and make your way toward the bayou in the backyard. You’d already set up a boat there to make an escape— no one would expect it since you and Din had rented a carriage to arrive.

He helps you step in the boat, grasping the hem of your skirts so that it’s easier for you to step in, and joins you as soon as you're settled. He doesn’t know how to row— not well at least— so you grab the oars and get to work. Your horses are strewn up to trees not too far from here and afterward you’ll collect your belongings from the inn and leave Cheyenne for good.

Din has started to count the money he retrieved, thumbing through the bills with his steady fingers.

“I pocketed a few things here and there while I waited for you— mostly watches but some wallets too. This should be a lot, we could rest in the next town for a bit if you wanted,” You whisper into the night.

He nods at you but doesn’t stop counting, pulling out a few gold bars you imagine he got from a safe. Once he’s finished counting he restarts, wanting to make sure he’s right.

“This is enough to get outta this,” He mumbles once he’s finished.

You think you’ve misheard him. “What?”

“This enough to get outta this,” He says again, looking up at you. You’re too busy rowing to gaze back at him and he takes this opportunity to look at you unabashedly, something he never lets himself do. It’s foggy enough that even if you were to notice his eyes burning into you, he could play it off, blaming it on the wispiness in the air.

Though you both look ridiculous, stiff, and dolled up for this party even as you row diligently through the muggy bayou, everything about you still shines through. His eyes are syrupy slow, following the curve of your jaw, the swell of your cheek, the line of your nose.

“Din?”

“Hmm?”

“Outta this profession, you mean?” You repeat the question he hadn’t heard as he got lost in you.

He clears his throat and sits up, staring into the fog, “You can’t tell me you never thought about it. Slowing down with a little patch of land, few animals and crops.”

Sure you had– on your loneliest days you’d let your mind wander. You let yourself dream about a life like that with someone. When Din came into your life, those dreams became a little more specific no matter how many times you tried to push them away.

Your brows shoot up as you finally look at him, face twisted in surprise, “You want to settle?”

“I said I’ve thought about it. This is just enough to get far enough that no one knows us. We’d need a lot of money to get everything for a stead. Not to mention makin’ it sustainable.”

This is the first time you’ve ever heard him talk like this and though you’ve only been doing this together for a month or so, you’d think it was something he would mention before entering into a partnership with someone. But hell— he still doesn’t know your name. It's worked so far, hasn’t it?

You make it to where your horses are, Augustine and Cresida look at you both expectantly, as if they’ve been waiting all day and have places to be.

“You’re serious,” You say in disbelief as he helps you out of the boat.

“There’s no reason for me to lie, girl,” He starts to shed his layers, removing the suit jacket and the crisp white button-down in favor of his long-sleeved undershirt. “You’ve never…”

You fish the pair of jeans you stashed on your horse out, hiking them up under the huge skirt of your dress before you take a knife and cut through it. You easily cut through the fabric of the tight corset, letting out a relieving breath.

“I have. Here and there. Didn’t see a point for it if it was just to be alone,” You murmur, shrugging into your shirt.

He’s quiet for a moment, before whispering into the night, barely heard over the symphony of crickets and cicadas, “Different now, ain’t it?”

“Yeah.”

Everything’s been different since meeting him. As the two of you mount your horses and start off into the night, your mind can’t help but wander back to that key detail— this man wants to settle down with a wild, nameless woman like you. Maybe that says enough. Maybe it’s all you’ll need.

ch 3: eyes full of stars

series taglist: @honeybrowne, @hotchs-bitch, @jazzelsaur, @lesbianhotch, @ivyheliotrope, @campingwiththecharmings, @frogers, @juneknight, @obscurexsorrows

[retphienix]

Hell yeah!

I shouldn't be alive!

Due to nerves I ran into not one but AT LEAST 2 lasers at the end and my ass was saved by squeaky!

I fell down to like single digits health and here I am!

Now in all honesty, I don't feel like this is a fluke victory since I had MUCH stronger runs prior and just let nerves hit my ass this time (but got carried despite that)- it's earned, complain about it on your own time lmao

But I did it!

Yippee!

Now I can farm a ton of stuff and make a ton of stuff and become ultra powerful (maybe) and then die 10k times to the end-game bosses of Fargo Souls and maybe give up if I become convinced I just can't properly acquire the bullet hell skills necessary for them!

We'll see!

Mostly excited and happy! lol

I will say, as a remix this is one of my favorites in the mod at the moment.

Normal moonlord is kind of... 'spammy' would be how I describe it? He's just constantly throwing projectiles all over the place and when his true eyes are busted out you start getting lasers at inopportune times and most of my victories against him have involved going "Actually, fuck this" and making a giant asphalt road from one end of the world to the other so that I can basically outpace his eyes the entire fight. THIS? It feels like a genuinely enjoyable bullet hell. Not like, Ikaruga levels, but I really- really can't express how much I would not enjoy it if it was lol

Keep it lighter, for my sanity, please :( And this was! This is a good remix :) If the damage was lower I'd be clambering for it to be base game- same with the pillars tbh! The weapon type demands for both moonlord and the pillars are neat to me- definitely a "Please make this expert+ only, thank you" mechanic, but I think if it was softened a bit to just a damage penalty and not immunity it could work as nice flavor :)

Honestly I think almost all of the eternity remixes have been really fun- some of which felt so nice I wish they were slapped in base game as well with the same considerations for nerfing to match base equipment- with only a couple feeling.... "Not Right" for base game and not more fun for my preferences I guess I'd say.

(TANGENT INCOMING)

Like I didn't think bee was any more fun or interesting, it was just different and trying to be harder. I DO NOT think Duke is more fun in large part because I genuinely think the debuff associated with his fight is entirely unfun.

Same with plantera's debuff to be honest but her debuff only hurt me once in all my matches, Duke's debuff is like "Haha! Clipped you with my phase 3 mega speed, you lost all your max health and die in one hit now" that's not fun for a lower experience player like me.

I will say almost all the adjustments to his moveset are actually really nice- the horizontal/vertical sharks that phase in before he dashes at you were 10/10 extra gameplay, his bubble patterns were honestly nice even if they screwed me over a few times. His final phase just wasn't it at all for me, it became "Just dash away a lot and you'll win, this is bullshit"- and the use of his tornados sucked ass in my opinion- I just genuinely don't like them at all.

It felt like a lot of "I'm a boss that moves REALLY fast and demands you keep moving constantly- oh- also I sometimes set up stage hazards that WILL INSTANTLY SHRED YOU just out of sight off screen- good luck :)" didn't like that, feel like they almost needed a built in boss arrow to always denote where they were. Or, you know, to not have hitboxes at all because they added nothing to his fight. That'd be nice.

(TANGENT OVER)

ANYWAYS. Eternity mode bosses fucking rule, like genuinely I turned on eternity mode because I saw that most of the content was locked behind it and I wanted to /try/ to see what I could- I mostly turned it on for the accessories- I wanted to explore the new gear.

But I KEPT it on because the boss remixes RULE in this mod.

Anyways marching on to whatever's next- be that a wall I can't overcome or awesome gear I fall in love with lol

[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 95

Read on Fanfiction.net or ao3.

---

Chapter 95

Rose’s face lit up when Ron came into the kitchen. Hermione had her sitting on her lap while she tried to juggle her breakfast. Ron didn’t know what she’d been doing prior to his appearance, but ever since her first smile two weeks ago, it was all she seemed to do now when she saw either of them. 

Ron returned her smile, his heart aching with the knowledge that he wasn’t going to get to see that smile all day, every day anymore. 

“You like the robes, Rosie?” he asked, holding out his arms. “I haven’t put them on since you’ve been here. It feels strange wearing them again.” He crouched by Hermione’s chair, coming level with his daughter’s face. Her mouth spread into another smile when he tickled her under her chin. “I’m really going to miss you. It’s going to be hard.” He lifted Rose from Hermione.

He’d known since before she was born that this moment would come. What he hadn’t known back then was just how much he’d love every moment he spent with his daughter. Part of him had even thought that maybe after six weeks of being stuck at home with a baby who needed him for everything, he’d appreciate his job more than had before.

Instead, it had confirmed that he didn’t want to be an Auror anymore so firmly that he’d resented even dressing in the robes that had once made him so proud. Not that it was dangerous these days, but his job had a history of being hard. People died doing what he did. The very thought of anything happening to him — abandoning his daughter — made him physically ill. 

“You’ll be fine,” Hermione said confidently as he tickled Rose again, resulting in a third smile from her. “It’ll take a bit to get used to, but you will get used to it.”

Ron gave a non-committal nod. He’d not expressed his uncertainty to Hermione since that one time two years ago — before she was even pregnant. How had he let this go on for that long? He should have made his decision back then, but something always seemed to come up. His injury against the Black Robes, losing their baby, then having Rose. He just always felt like he would be letting people down if he were to leave. And the question of what was he supposed to do instead always entered his mind.

There really was nothing else for him. He was overqualified for almost every other job now, and he’d lose a large chunk of his income doing almost anything else. Now that they had a baby, they needed every Galleon possible.  

“I’m sure they won’t give you too much work on your first day. Just a lot of catch-up and briefings,” Hermione continued, mistaking his silence as worry.

“You don’t know Robards like I do,” Ron said, kissing Rose’s forehead and reluctantly handing her back to Hermione. “He’ll throw me right into everything with the expectation that I’m up to the task, lack of sleep not considered.”

Hermione kissed him. “You’ll be okay. Just think about coming home. And, please, actually make it home.”

Ron smiled. “I doubt they’ll put me in the field. Have any plans today?”

“We might go for a walk this morning. Then when she’s sleeping, I might actually start preparing for me to go back to work.”

“You still have six weeks left!” Ron protested. 

Hermione smiled. “I know, but unlike you, I don’t like leaving things to the last minute. There’ll be a lot to catch up on.”

“You’re also supposed to be using this time to spend with our daughter,” Ron reminded her. 

“Which is why I said when she’s asleep. And I don’t mean I’m going to be at it all day, or exerting myself. I just might send in some memos, and get a rundown on what’s happening.”

“I’ll check up on Malfoy for you,” Ron assured her.

“That’s not what I meant —”

“I’ll still check in.” He kissed her again. “Please don’t do too much.”

“I won’t.”

Ron lingered in the kitchen for a moment longer, watching his wife and daughter.

“Ron?”

Ron shook his head. “It’s harder than I thought,” he said, and he kissed Rose’s forehead again, and gave Hermione another kiss. And before he could change his mind, he left them there and Floo’d to the Ministry, not at all happy about the bustling atrium he found himself stepping into. 

As he stood by the grates, taking in the familiar, yet unfamiliar, sights, he couldn’t help but wonder just how he’d ever thought that this was what he’d wanted. If he was being honest, the most exciting part of this career for him was getting offered a position in the Aurors. Training had been good, too, but it had basically ended there for him. 

It was the title, he thought. The prestige and status that came with being an Auror. That had mattered to him when he was eighteen, the sixth child of Molly and Arthur Weasley and the new boyfriend of Hermione Granger. It had been important to be recognised, and acknowledged, for doing something worthwhile. Back then, he hadn’t even considered that he’d receive an Order of Merlin, First Class award, or that his name would be in the history books for new Hogwarts students to learn about. Back then, he’d been lost, confused and traumatised from the war, and being offered a job in the Aurors had seemed like the perfect fix. He was doing exactly what he’d always dreamed of, not once thinking about the consequences of jumping straight into doing something his mind just wanted to simultaneously forget. 

There were so many more important things than recognition for him now. Rose was the first that came to his mind. Maybe if he didn’t have her to consider, he could stick it out. Maybe he could do what he’d always done when these thoughts had come to him and he’d brush them aside, convincing himself that this was what they needed. But he saw things differently now that she was in his life. He didn’t care what others thought, whether he was successful; he just wanted to be a good dad to Rose and a good husband to Hermione, and make them both happy. 

He had actually made the decision to go to Robards and give his notice — deal with Hermione’s reaction when he returned home unexpectedly — when a hand clasped his shoulder. 

He spun, coming face to face with a grinning Harry. 

“Been so long you can’t remember your way to the office, huh?” Harry said, laughing. 

“What?” Ron questioned, coming to and realising he’d been standing there with what was probably a dumb expression on his face. 

“You’re just standing there, mate,” Harry said. “It’s tough coming back at first, isn’t it? Rose keeping you up?”

Ron looked at Harry, taking in his best friend. Harry seemed to belong here, standing in his Auror robes. There were rumours spreading far and wide that Harry was Robards next in line to be Head, and if Kingsley had any sense, he’d do just that. Harry was made for a job like this; it was ingrained into him to protect others from the evils that were out there. In comparison, Ron felt like an imposter in his robes. Maybe he’d belonged once, but he knew that he didn’t anymore and it was about time he actually said that out loud. He’d taken Hermione’s advice — he’d given it time. But his feelings remained. They’d grown stronger, even. He couldn’t pretend anymore. 

Harry frowned. “She really not sleeping, huh?”

“Rosie’s fine,” Ron said. He ran his fingers through his hair. “She’s great. That’s the issue, really.”

Harry’s frown deepened. “I’m not following.”

Ron nodded. “Fancy a small chat before we start?”

“Of course,” Harry said, and he smiled. “You can tell me all about that amazing daughter of yours.”

“It’s not like you haven’t met her,” Ron said as they pushed their way through the workers to the lifts. “Let’s go to the courtrooms. I can get into Hermione’s private office down there.”

“I know I’ve met her, but she’s my niece and I’m interested since we last saw her. You and Hermione handling parenthood okay?”

Ron nodded. “Honestly, I feel as if it’s something that I should have been doing years ago. It just feels…”

“Natural?” Harry finished. “Yeah, I’ve seen you. You seem pretty comfortable playing dad.”

“Yeah. I dunno. Maybe it’s the Weasley in me, but I just love every moment with her. It doesn’t feel right being back here, being away from her.”

“Worried Hermione won’t do it right?” Harry teased as they stepped into the lift for the courtrooms. 

Ron smiled, shaking his head. “She’s nailing it. And she’ll nail the work-life balance when it comes to it, too. As for me… I’m not sure I’m cut out for the whole working and being away from my kid aspect.”

“It’s really hard,” Harry sympathised. “It took me months to get used to it, but you do adjust. And kids so young are incredibly resilient. Admittedly, Ginny is rostered to begin training for the Harpies again in April, so that’ll be a challenge, but we have a plan. But I understand how hard it is to leave for the first time, not knowing what they’re doing, if they’re okay…”

The lift came to a grinding halt and Ron and Harry stepped out. Being early, there were hardly any people in the courtrooms. They walked in silence for the short trip to Hermione’s office just off courtroom two. Ron used his wand to unlock the door, breaking her enchantments she hadn’t even told Maia or Malfoy how to get past. 

The office was small, but it was pristine. It was the place Hermione worked when she had back-to-back cases to handle on busy days. On most days, even Ron wasn’t allowed in here unless it was to drag her away from her work. 

Ron moved to her desk and sat down in the chair. Harry grabbed the only other one in the tiny space and sat on the other side. He looked at Ron sympathetically. 

“I’m guessing all this is overwhelming. Being back here after being in such a nice little bubble with your new family. I experienced that, too.”

Ron leant back in the chair. Harry was briefly aware of his dying interest in being an Auror, but he always got the sense that Harry didn’t fully comprehend just how much he didn’t like it anymore. Because of that, he’d not really spoken to Harry about it, nor had he spoken to Hermione, who also didn’t get it. But if he didn’t talk it through then he’d continue being stuck where he was with no way forward. 

“You remember way back before Rosie was born and I said that I was considering maybe… leaving the Aurors?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah. How you weren’t sure if it was for you anymore…”

“Well, being a parent really puts perspective in your life, as I’m sure you’d be aware of.”

“Of course,” Harry said slowly. “I’m not really liking where this is going. I’m getting the impression that this new perspective hasn’t told you that you should stay here.”

Ron shook his head, saying nothing. 

Opposite him, Harry also leant back in his chair, sighing loudly. After a moment, he looked back at Ron and asked, “So, you’re really going to leave?”

“I’ve been dreading it since she was born, but the moment I stepped out of the Floo, I just knew I didn’t belong here anymore. I feel like an imposter wearing these robes. I keep thinking about how much I just want to be at home with my baby.”

“No job’s going to allow that, mate.”

“Yeah… I know that. Which I think is why I’ve been here for as long as I have. There’s nothing else I can do that I’m qualified for that will allow me to be with her and work. But I think I’ve just now reached a point where I no longer care. Being an Auror requires one hundred and ten percent and right now, I think I can only give eighty.”

Harry stared thoughtfully for a moment at a spot on Hermione’s empty desk. Then he said, “I’m not going to be able to talk you out of this, am I?”

“Do you want to?” Ron asked. “Do you want to work with someone who’s miserable the whole day?”

“I want to work with my best mate,” Harry said. “This might sound cheesy, but coming into work every day and seeing you there is always a highlight. Before we had James, I didn’t see my wife for weeks at a time. It got lonely, so seeing you and Hermione here each day… kind of made things easier.”

“You’ll still have Hermione,” Ron said. 

Harry laughed. “True. But it’s not quite the same as having a laugh with you, is it? I don’t share an office with Hermione, which I’m admittedly grateful for.”

“That’s my wife you’re talking about.”

Harry grinned. “But this isn’t about me and I’ll cope. I’d never ask you to stay in a job you’re unhappy in just to entertain my sorry self when it’s just me.”

“Ginny won’t be taking James to training, will she?” Ron said.

Harry nodded. “True, I suppose.” There was a moment’s silence before Harry spoke again. “So, when you leave, what will you do instead?”

Ron shook his head. “I just want to be a dad right now. I don’t want to have to deal with anything else but Rosie. Then… when the time comes, I suppose I’ll look for something less strenuous. Something where I can leave every day and know that I’ll come back home without worrying if I’ll die or get hurt.”

Harry nodded. “So, a peaceful life?”

“Something like that.”

Harry laughed. 

“What?” Ron questioned.

“It’s just… I was thinking about the day we met. On the train, we were eleven years old. My first impression of you was that I liked you very much, but I never would have put you as the person who sixteen years later would want to give up a successful career so he could spend more time with his baby daughter.”

“Sixteen years ago I probably would have forgone the kids and dived head first into being an Auror,” Ron admitted. “But… things change. I’ve changed, and that’s not me anymore.”

“You’re a good dad, Ron, and I know how much you love Rose. I can’t really argue against wanting to spend every moment you can with her. I just… I guess I just want to say… give it a day or two?”

“Thanks,” Ron said, feeling a weight lift off his chest. “That means a lot. Thanks for understanding.”

Harry nodded. “Of course. But…” He stood up. “Are you planning on quitting right now, or do you think you can manage another day with me?”

Ron also stood. “I think I can manage one more day,” he said. “Besides, I’ve told Hermione none of this and I don’t think she’s going to take it as well as you have. After all, I’ll be telling her that I’m quitting fifty percent of our income with a newborn to care for.”

“She’ll understand,” Harry said.

“Have you met Hermione?” Ron asked, smiling. “She’s more likely to kill me. But… at least I’ll die knowing I made the right decision in the end.”

“So, you’re not saying anything today then?” Harry asked. “I mean to the others? Robards?”

Ron thought for a moment as they left the courtrooms. Before Harry had found him standing listlessly in the atrium, he’d been about to march to Robards’ office and say he wasn’t coming back again. But… he really should speak to Hermione first. Not to ask for her opinion, because his mind had been made up, but so she knew what was going through his head. So she understood why he had to do this. He couldn’t very well quit and then come home and say he had no job anymore. 

“Nah,” he said eventually. “I guess I’ve just got to stick it out for a little longer before I’m gone completely. So, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone.”

“Of course I won’t,” Harry said. 

Their conversation changed to other things for the remainder of the journey to the Auror Office. Familiarity did return to Ron as they walked through the corridors, passing people he knew. In a way, Ron would miss the life he had led here for the past seven years. It had had its moments. There were many fond memories, most of which involved Harry and Dean and Neville and working with them. There was also having lunch with Hermione, going to her office in the afternoon to get her to come home. 

But it all just kept coming back to Rose. Things needed to change because of her and being an Auror was something in the past for him. 

“Hey, welcome back!�� It was the first thing Ron heard upon setting foot in the Auror office again. It was Dean, clapping him on the back. “It feels like forever since I last saw you in here.”

“Huh, yeah. It’s because it has been,” Ron answered, smiling at Dean. 

“You look well,” Dean then noted, looking Ron up and down. “Parenthood treating you well, then?”

“Yeah,” Ron said. “It’s great. I love it.”

“Sleeping alright?”

“That’s the hard part.” 

Ron was welcomed back by his other fellow Aurors, all approaching him within the first half hour and either congratulating him on having a baby or saying they were pleased to see him. By the time he sat down at his desk, which over the weeks had accumulated a nice pile of paperwork, he was feeling more appreciated than he’d ever felt. 

It didn’t feel as if his colleagues were just happy to see him because their workload had increased in his absence, but because they actually valued him being there. He thought back to all the rumours he’d caught wind of in his time here, how people talked about how he and Harry were some of the best Aurors they’d ever seen. He’d always dismissed them, thinking his involvement in the war had a lot to do with that image, but… maybe not. He really was decent at this job, he knew that. Even if he was qualified for another job, would he be as good at it? At the same time, none of it made him want to change his mind. 

Robards was the only one who seemed indifferent to Ron’s return. At nine on the dot, he marched into the office, calling a quick meeting. 

“Over here, over here,” he beckoned, drawing them over to where he was perched on his desk. His eyes fell on Ron and he nodded briefly. “Welcome back, Weasley. I trust you can join in and catch up?”

“Yeah,” Ron answered. “I can follow.”

Robards nodded again. “Good. Listen, Aurors, you’ll be finding yourselves out of the office more this week. We are interviewing our imprisoned Black Robes again and I want all of you to take on at least one. There’s more than enough of you to do that, so you’ll each be given a time and person.”

“We’ve interviewed them already,” Dean interrupted, sounding almost annoyed at the prospect. “More than once. They’re not speaking.”

“Which is why we’re planning to break them down,” Robards said. “Bother them until one cracks. Spelled or not, they can be broken if the will is there.” He waved his wand. “You’ll each find your schedules on your desks. With the Magical Law office temporarily understaffed and… er… running less efficiently, we’ll need to do some of it ourselves.”

Ron looked at Harry who offered a guilty shrug. When they got back to their desks, Ron snatching up his weekly schedule, he said, “So, Malfoy’s not pulling his weight then?”

“It’s been a bit chaotic,” Harry admitted. “He’s technically in charge because Maia is under Hermione’s wing. He’s… well, he’s not as efficient as Hermione is.”

“You mean he’s lazy?” Ron asked, feeling satisfaction settle inside him. “I take it you’ve deliberately kept this from Hermione?”

“What’s the point in ruining her maternity leave time?” Harry said. “Besides, we’re managing. Hermione’s trained Maia well. She’s doing fine.”

“Stupid git,” Ron muttered, finally looking at his schedule. He was rostered in for an interview on Wednesday, which was his last shift until Saturday. Well, that was something then. He got two days off with Rose.

“In all fairness,” Harry continued, “I doubt anyone could be as efficient as Hermione.”

“He’s still a git,” Ron said. He slid some pieces of parchment towards him, eyes scanning them briefly. He couldn’t wait to be shot of this — pouring over report after report, rarely actually getting to use any exciting magic. He probably wouldn’t get to use the spells in any other job either, but at least he wouldn’t show up with the expectation each day and leaving disappointed. 

Ron had to admit that the day went well considering. He got through the work, the knowledge that very soon he wouldn’t be sitting here doing it anymore. In a way, it made things a whole lot easier and he couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that had he attended work every day with the knowledge that it was one of his last, maybe he would have enjoyed it more. 

He worked solidly until midday, when Harry said it was their break. Standing up, he admired that the pile on Ron’s desk was a lot smaller than it had been three hours ago. 

“Efficient,” he said with an impressed nod. 

“Yeah, well, can’t leave you lot here with all the work, can I?” Ron joked, also getting up. “Though, a lot of it was just simple stuff. I haven’t been here for six weeks, have I? Got no idea what’s going on, really.”

“Still,” Harry said, “you’ll be missed.”

They began walking to the lunchroom, Ron, for the first time since he started training, feeling as if today was actually going to be a good day.

…

Despite the good day he did have, it didn’t stop Ron from getting out of there the moment the large clock in the Auror office ticked over to five. He was stepping out of his fireplace by the time it was five-oh-five, hearing Hermione’s voice from the kitchen. 

“Hey,” Hermione said when he came in. She left the pot on the stove to come over to kiss him. 

Ron looked around in search of Rose, only to find her fast asleep in an unfamiliar bassinet that sat on the table. 

He went over to peer into it. 

“Oh, I bought that today,” Hermione said. “You know, just so we aren’t doing things one-handed. She loves it.”

Ron smiled into the basket, watching for a moment the rise and fall of his daughter’s chest, before turning back to his wife. 

“How was your first day back?” Hermione asked brightly. 

“Yeah, pretty good, actually,” Ron said. “How was your first day alone with Rosie?”

“You know what?” Hermione said, “I thought it would be hard. I thought she might miss you, but we were fine. I ended up taking her into the city. We got the bus — I didn’t really want to Apparate her just yet — and I bought the basket. We went out and about and… it was really fun.”

Ron smiled. “That’s great,” he said. “I’m glad you had fun. I missed her a lot today. It was hard being away.”

Hermione returned to the stove, peering into the saucepan before replacing the lid. “It’ll get easier,” she said. “But if it makes you feel better, I know she missed you, too.”

“I’m glad.” Ron came into the kitchen, leaning against one of the benches. He wasn’t exactly sure how to bring his decision up with Hermione, but he knew it was something he had to do sooner rather than later. He’d already put it off for far too long and he wasn’t going to do it anymore. “I came to a decision today,” he said after a moment.

“A decision? About what?” Hermione frowned at him. “Work?”

“Yeah,” Ron said. He bit his lower lip, searching for the words. “You know how a few years back, right when the Black Robes started and I got hurt and stuff?”

“Yes,” Hermione said warily. 

“And how I mentioned how I wasn’t sure if being an Auror was something I wanted to do anymore?”

“Yes,” Hermione said again. “But you got over that, didn’t you? I mean… you’ve been really enjoying it, haven’t you?” He heard the uncertainty in her voice, and he knew in that moment she was going to be disappointed in him. 

Ron shrugged. “It has been convenient ever since then,” he said, “but I’ve not really enjoyed it for many years.”

“What? But Ron… you’ve always wanted to —”

“Yeah, I know, it’s what I’ve always wanted to do,” Ron said. “And I’ve done it. Today when I was there, I hated it. I hated being away from Rose. I made the decision to leave the Aurors.”

Hermione said nothing. For the longest moment, she simply stared at him, her expression unreadable. Ron had known this would be hard for her to process, and telling her like this probably wasn’t the best way to do it. The timing was probably wrong, too, but the timing had always been wrong. He needed to do it. 

Eventually, she spoke. Her voice was barely audible. “You what?”

“I’m quitting,” Ron said. “I want to be here with Rosie. I want to be her dad, not someone who goes off doing dangerous things every day, not knowing whether I’ll ever get to see her again. Being an Auror is dangerous and I’d much rather come home every day to see her and you than dealing with Dark Wizards.”

Hermione opened her mouth but no sound came out. From the table, Rose whimpered and shifted, but didn’t wake. 

Eventually, she spoke. “Ron, you can’t just —”

“I’m doing it,” Ron said, his voice firm. “I know it’s not what you expected, or want, but it’s how I feel. I feel miserable going in every day. I get no enjoyment from doing any of the work anymore. It’s not what I thought it would be. There’s no fulfillment in it anymore.” He glanced over at his sleeping daughter. “But there’s a lot with her.”

“So, you’re just going to stay at home, then?” Hermione questioned, and he heard a hint of anger in the way she spoke. “Stay at home with Rose each day?”

“I hope to find another job eventually,” Ron said. “One that’s not as dangerous. But for now…” He looked over at his sleeping daughter. “For now, yeah, I just want to be here with her. You go back to work in six weeks and you were worrying about care for her. Well, now you don’t have to.”

Hermione shook her head. “That’s not the solution I wanted, Ron,” she said. “I’m actually really upset about this. That you made this decision without even talking to me about it.”

Ron nodded. “Yeah, I know. I’m —”

“You just made the decision without even discussing it!” Hermione continued. “You just went in today and decided you’d had enough, so you quit without any worry about how we’re going to handle this?”

“It’s not like that,” Ron said. “You know I was thinking about it —”

“Two years ago!” Hermione cried. “More than two years ago. Between then and now, you never said a word. Nothing that indicated you were unhappy. And now… now you just come home and tell me you’re quitting without any backup plan?”

“Hermione —”

“No, Ron,” Hermione said, “This isn’t okay. We just had a baby. We have a house, we have food to get, bills to pay… what I earn can’t cover all of that.” 

Ron rubbed his face with his hands. He’d known she’d be upset, but he’d hoped that if he explained that he wasn’t happy, then she’d understand and be supportive. But he had kind of sprung it on her out of the blue. He might have been feeling this for years, but she was right when she said he hadn’t spoken about it to her since the first time. He’d kept it to himself, going over and over the pros and cons of it all in his head, but never out loud. 

“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment. “I know this is a lot to take in. That it’s a shock. It’s just… when I got there today, all that backwards and forwards I was doing with myself, all that questioning, I just found the answer I was looking for.”

Hermione seemed to relax a little, taking a few deep breaths before she spoke again. “Ron,” she said gently, “I know you were struggling to leave Rose today. I know you love being with her, but you can’t just quit your job because you miss her. It’s… not how it works.”

“She’s not the reason I’m leaving,” Ron said. “She’s just the deciding factor. I don’t want a job that could risk me not coming home to her one day.” He thought for a moment. “Listen, I haven’t actually quit. I just made the decision to do it. I’m still going to go in tomorrow, and the day after. I’ll stay until something else comes up. Something that’s better for us.”

“This is perfect for us,” Hermione said quietly. “It always has been. It’s worked.”

“It doesn’t work anymore. Not for me.” He looked at Hermione, who now seemed torn between sympathising with him and being furious with him. “Hermione, I just don’t want to do it anymore. I’m unhappy there and because of that, I can’t do the job that’s required of me. Not to my best ability anymore. It’s been great, it really has, but there’s a job that I love more now and that’s being a dad. For me, I can’t give one hundred percent to both, so I choose Rosie.”

“She doesn’t bring us money,” Hermione said. 

“Yeah, I know. She brings us a lot more important things.”

Hermione glared up at him, and she must have seen something in his expression, because her expression softened. “You’re really that unhappy being an Auror?”

He nodded. “I am.”

“You should have said something sooner.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. I just… it was just hard to make the decision to finally do it. I know that whatever I do, I won’t earn as much as I am now and that’s kept me from doing it sooner.”

Hermione’s eyes flickered to Rose again, who remained asleep, blissfully unaware of the changes that were about to befall her. She looked back up at Ron again. To his surprise, she smiled. “I suppose I can’t be too angry over you wanting to spend more time with her. I just… I just don’t know what we’re supposed to do in the meantime.”

Ron reached out and tugged her arm, drawing her towards him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her. “We’ll think of something,” he promised. “All I know is that you and Rosie — my family — are the most important people in my life and I want to do what’s best for all of us. I know you’ll handle it all so well. You’re a great mum, a great wife and you’re a great Head of office. You’ll move further and further up at the Ministry and I’ll be there to support you in every step. Meanwhile, I’m more than happy to take a step back so you don’t have to worry about her.”

Hermione sighed. “It will make caring for Rose a lot easier,” she conceded. 

“Mhm.”

“And you’re absolutely certain you don’t want to be an Auror anymore?”

“The only thing I was more sure of was marrying you,” Ron replied. “We’re a team, and this is what I need to do to make it work. And I’m completely okay with this decision.”

“Alright,” Hermione said after a moment. “I suppose I understand.”

“Thank you.” He kissed her again, and it was only then that he realised it was probably the most he’d kissed her since Rose was born. She always seemed to be in one or the other’s arms that they had barely touched each other in six weeks. 

After a moment, he pulled away. Rose’s cries quickly filled the kitchen and they smiled at each other.

“I’ve got her,” Ron said. And he went over to the basket, picking up his now-wailing daughter.

[theanimeview]

[Review] Kumoricon 2023: Attendee & Presenter Experience (+Panel Links)

By: Peggy Sue Wood

Kumoricon 2023 – DraftBy: Peggy Sue Wood

TL/DR

This is a small-scale event with lots of people. You could purchase a ticket for one day and tour the exhibit hall in a few hours with more than enough time for panels. 

This convention is good for first-time convention goers, particularly if you are not great with being in large crowds and struggle in long lines. Be warned though, there is very little cell service at this location!

Size and Scale + Food Alley

Location: Portland Oregon, Convention Center and Hyatt Hotel – November 17 – 19, 2023. 

Size: It has shifted from being mid-tier to small-tier in terms of scale. I did ask around about it, but none of the staff that I spoke to seemed to know. Based on venders assessment (the ones I spoke to at least), there seemed to be some bad-press lingering from the last convention that prevented venders from wanting to risk a potential loss of income in case attendees did not come. Some also seemed to believe there were conflicting values at play between convention administration and the individual venders. As far as I can tell you, I believe that the convention staff and administration are doing the best they can and seem like reasonable, harder-working, and passionate people when it comes to caring for and putting on the event. The venders too are making this a very positive place for attendees. 

Health and Safety Policy

Masks are optional. In terms of safety, I felt fine, even in the surrounding areas of the venue. For example, myself and a group of friends walked back late at night from dinner to the hotel and had no significant run-ins or problems. However, it’s evident that the surrounding area has experienced a decline compared to previous years.

Vender Hall

The usual space allocated for vendors seemed noticeably reduced, and the dominant presence was that of the vibrant and bustling Artist Alley. In the back was space dedicated for the voice actors and, divided by a set of black screens were the spaces allotted to the gaming area, which appeared more spread out than before. 

Artist Alley 

Despite expectations of a larger Artist Alley, its actual size came as a surprise. It was, roughly, five aisles in an “L” shape, and this unexpected scale left myself as an attendee surprised considering that last year I repeatedly became lost among the aisles. Still, there was great variation in the collection of artists and some had a surprising mix of materials (though, this could be because some artists split booths). For example, one of the people I attended with found Haikyuu!! fan art keychains at a booth that seemed to be selling some Rated M art. 

Cosplay Areas

While walking around the convention space, I was unable to find any specific areas designated for cosplay. Though I did see cosplayers making their own spaces in the main hall where the Kumoricon shop was found (right in front of the Dragon Boat Cafe, which is part of the convention center). On the upside—despite the amount of cosplayers and lack of cosplay photo-space, there were minimal blockages caused by cosplay, which was a positive aspect of the event.

Presenter Experience

I presented five panels this year at Kumoricon, and all were successful in my opinion. I even got to read some of the feedback, which all appeared positive. The Manga and Comics session, in particular, had considerable attention and generated numerous questions, which was fantastic and one of my favorite presentations overall. 

The best part was getting to connect with attendees after–so, thank you to everyone that came up at the end to talk to me! I loved getting to hear from you and to discuss the topics presented on! 

For myself: I think that, on two of them, I need to be better at my timing as I did end up cutting a few short to leave time for Q&A at the end. I will continue to work on improving, everyone, and thank you so much for your support!

For those interested, you can view my presentations here (and read my script in the notes section under each slide):

Anime Blogging Basics Bootcamp https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1DyuNGJPNRm4du_pTIL-6jKqZ_qvSJnTG/edit?usp=sharing&ouid=109028846234695529861&rtpof=true&sd=true 

How Fan Content Creates New Fans & Other Important Information! https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1pCOc13nmGrT-R16k0ticvaDcljochrOh/edit?usp=sharing&ouid=109028846234695529861&rtpof=true&sd=true 

Virtual Tourism With Anime https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1qYGIS5e2O8oHxqZAp5t3zBb6XmF5S1wG/edit?usp=sharing&ouid=109028846234695529861&rtpof=true&sd=true 

Manga & Comics: A Different Cultural Base https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1dSw09wnh1nQL80AVnQjbmPxwv8mCSYhZ/edit?usp=sharing&ouid=109028846234695529861&rtpof=true&sd=true 

Entering Anime & Manga Studies https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1lRJefZ-dsUXX9lVvp7hDpQ7L4zWs5TOE/edit?usp=sharing&ouid=109028846234695529861&rtpof=true&sd=true 

Overall (Food, Entertainment, etc) – Attendee Experience

Guest speaker Alisa Freedman delivered several presentations once again and they were all wonderful. I attended the Women in Japanese Studies panel and found it insightful and informative about the history of the field I hope to enter. My friends that attended with me went to some of her other panels over the course of the weekend too, and all of us felt like these were some of the best panels we got to enjoy during the event. I also attended a few other events/panels, all of which were engaging and—in my opinion—well chosen panels to have at the event. 

The event hosted a decent number of people without being overwhelming, meaning that the lines would go very quickly. The longest bathroom line I waited in lasted only two minutes, which is a very short wait for those of you that do not attend anime conventions regularly. The food line, when stacked, also progressed quickly. I would barely have time to refill a drink before my order would be ready. 

The Dragon Boat Cafe served good food, not great but not bad—making it somewhat —reminiscent of cafeteria food. Additionally, I purchased the convention refillable cup for $20, which provided purchasers unlimited drink refills throughout the 3-day event. This was a worthwhile purchase for me, considering how much I drink tea and water in a day.

Lines were, overall, relatively short which made this a really pleasant convention. 

Final Judgments

Venue: 4/5 – Little to no cell service through the space.

Staff: 5/5 – Excellent work!

Organization, Layout & Management: 5/5 – Very little waiting

Organization, Media Use: -/5 – Cannot judge as I did not look up the media and marketing before attending this convention

Attendance: 5/5 – Had a lot of fun.

Affordability: 4.5/5 – The ticket prices seemed reasonable given the size and scale. 

Overall: 4.7/5 – Will return next year!

–

If you enjoyed this post, please consider buying us a coffee, leaving a comment, liking, and/or subscribing to us!

Copyedited by: Krow Smith | @coffeewithkrow

[mae-dwrites]

Taking Flight - Chapter 5 - The Grater

| Story Masterlist | Previous | Next |

| Ao3 | Wattpad |

“Mme Mendeleïev, show yourself! I need that A!” The Akuma roared out.

Marinette wanted the slam her head into the desk. Everyone began opening the windows and jumping out, as they were currently on the ground floor. Some were panicking and others were complaining.

Mme Mendeleïev looked down at the papers she had been grading and glanced at her computer screen in a panic trying to figure out to who she had just given a bad grade. It was only two, but the student could have gotten a B and gotten mad for all she knew. Mme Mendeleïev couldn’t help but slouch in her chair, trying to determine whether she should run or let the Akuma get her so she could get revived by Ladybug. Put in effort or allow for Ladybug to just take care of it?

Marinette left the classroom’s door and ran to the bathroom, Chat Noir was already taunting the Akuma so that was a relief. Marinette checked that no one was in the bathroom with her before she called Tikki.

“I have a feeling this one won’t be as bad,” the Kwami squeaked.

“As long as blood isn’t spilled I think it’ll be fine,” Marinette responded. “Spots on.”

Ladybug opened the window and jumped out, she threw the yo-yo and it caught a part of the roof. She pulled at just the right moment with a practiced motion, she flew over the side of the school into the roof over looking the courtyard.

“You know it’s not nice to stomp on people, have you tried talking your problems out? I hear it does wonders!” Chat Noir said to the Akuma while somersaulting over them.

The Akuma was as tall as Gorialla had been, she resembled a snapping turtle, the way her jaw came out with her large sharp teeth. Her chin was rigid with her rock-like skin. She had long sharp claws, her back had spikes coming out of her, similar to a porcupine. She had a semi-long tail, the end was fairly large. This was probably one of Hawkmoth’s better-looking Akumas.

“I am Grater, and I don’t need to talk my problems out. They need to be fixed now!” Grater yelled at Chat Noir.

Her arms and legs were adorned with multiple bracelets, one of them had to be holding the Akuma. Ladybug sighed, Hawkmoth-even with simple Akumas-had to make it harder. She had an idea but before she got too far, “Lucky Charm!”

A heavy thing of fabric fell down into her arms. Yards worth of fabric, the width was extremely long, and the length amazed her. Ladybug looked between Grater and the Lucky Charm, she knew exactly what to do with it.

Chat Noir landed next to her, “Shall we make her a skirt M’lady? I think she would look nice in a tutu.” Chat Noir grinned at her, he was tired. That was evident enough to Ladybug, her partner was tried but not from the Akuma from something else. Ladybug shook her head, that wasn’t important right now, “I was thinking more of a sleep mask Chaton.”

“What do you need?” Chat Noir said, before jumping out of the way of Grater’s claws coming down on the school.

“Meet on the other side.” She shouted back at him. The right side of the school now had the second floor collapsed in the middle. Grater turned around and growled.

Ladybug and Chat Noir met in the middle of the left side.

“What now,” Chat smiled at Ladybug.

“Help me unroll this a bit.” They immediately got to it as she continued, “When she gets over here I’ll run up her arm, and you use your baton to extend yourself to her head. Wrap the fabric around her head while I break the bracelets till I find the Akuma.” Ladybug looked up as Grater reached them, “She won’t be able to get the fabric off without cutting herself.”

Ladybug turned back to Chat and he nodded as Grater brought her arm up to smash them. Ladybug jumped up-with enhanced strength-above her incoming hand. She landed on her forearm as Chat Noir propelled himself up to her shoulders. Ladybug ran up the arm and grabbed one of the spikes on her shoulder to propel herself up, she tugged the end of the fabric onto a herd of spikes on the back of her head. The fabric was snug enough that she ran back down the right arm she had run up, she started snapping bracelets with the magic wire of her yo-yo.

“Get this stupid thing off of MEEE!” Grater roared as Chat Noir swing himself around her head.

“Do you have some manners with that request,” Chat yelled back. He almost slipped but he hooked his arm around one of the smaller spikes at the top of the shell-like back. “M’lady you wouldn’t happen to be close to finding our pretty little pupa?”

Ladybug had snapped all the ones on the right arm but none of them held the Akuma. Ladybug was snapping bracelets on the left arm now, she scanned all the bracelets trying to see if any of them stood out in a way. But nothing really did.

Grater suddenly spun knocking both the heroes off her. Grater’s tail swept the lower floors making most of the school collapse from the damage. Chat Noir couldn’t catch himself and his baton was out of reach. He fell to the ground, he lifted himself up groaning. Ladybug had fallen next to some debris, a giant stone plate had soon fallen and was on her legs and upper body. That wouldn’t be a problem if it had only been her legs.

“Chat!”

She attempted to push the large piece off herself. It was no use and she couldn’t see where Chat had landed. And the dust from the debris made it hard to see and breathe. She groan to herself, she raised her fists and brought them down like a child throwing a tantrum. It broke some bits off and a few cracks formed, but it didn’t give the results she wanted.

Chat lifted himself up, his ears had a mild ring. Plagg must have been more tired than he thought. He looked for his baton seeing it was a few feet away. He stumbled over to it, he had gotten up too quickly. Grater had stumbled out of the courtyard roaring.

“Great,” Chat murmured to himself. He looked around for his partner, he lit up when he saw red and blue. His eyes widened when he saw her predicament, she was trapped under a giant slab, he could see her pounding on a giant slab of stone. They didn’t have long, Ladybug had used her Lucky Charm, so it was only a matter of time before she transformed.

Chat ran across the courtyard to Ladybug, “Cataclysm!” The piece of rumble became ash and Ladybug looked up to her partner smiling, “Chat!”

“Go refuel Tikki before you detranform, I’ll try damage control,” Chat said as he helped Ladybug up.

Ladybug nodded in thank you and zipped away. She landed in an alley just in time for the transformation to drop. Marinette grabbed a macaron out of her bag and handed it to Tikki who was sitting on the garbage disposal. Marinette used the garbage disposal to try and hide for the most part.

“Are you okay Tikki?”

Tikki nodded and gulped down the bit she was on, “Yeah, just something’s off. I'm sorry I couldn't give you the full strength you usually have.”

“It’s okay, we’ll deal with that later. For now, we’ll do what we’ve always done, use what we’re dealt.” Marinette said as Tikki finished the treat. Marinette called on the transformation.

Ladybug zipped overhead, Grater hadn’t gotten too far. Chat was keeping her busy with an annoying-to Grater-game of Marco Polo. While Ladybug had been gone Grater’s claws had shortened and she was trying to get the fabric off but found that Chat was far more the annoyance than some fabric.

Luckily for them, the fabric had caught stuck between two of her back spikes. Ladybug zipped past Chat with a wave, she pointed at the bundle of fabric and spun her finger. Chat Noir gave a salute and launched himself up to the fabric.

Ladybug had taken the moment to really look at Grater, all the bracelets were bright and eye-catching. All except one at the bottom of the right left.

“That must be where the Akuma is,” the bug heroine said to no one in particular.

She swung down to the leg, she hooked her arm around one of the higher bracelets. She hooked the yo-yo around the Akuma holding bracelet and snapped it. Grater yelled no as she felt the bubbles form up her body.

“Time to de-evilize!” Ladybug shouted as she dropped to the ground. She captured the Akuma to purify it.

Grater’s no was cut off as she returned to her regular self, the girl immediately started screaming as she started to fall. Chat Noir dived in her direction, she grabbed her by the abdomen before activating his baton. They came down slowly.

Chat Noir set the girl down as Ladybug picked up the torn-up fabric. She tossed it up in the air so the Miracle Cure could rebuild the destruction and restore life or health to those who got caught in the destruction. A crowd formed as Ladybug and Chat Noir did their signature, “Pound it!”

Thanks and questions were shouted at the hero duo.

Alya came up with her Live, “And once again Ladybug and Chat Noir save the day without fail! Ending this Live here folks!” She immediately started recording after she ended the Live and calling to her favorite heroes to see if she could get an interview.

“Al-ee-ya,” Chat Noir called, putting an emphasis on each syllable. The group opened enough for Alya to get through, some reporters glared at the teen as she made her way to the duo. “Hey, many have been asking and speculating if you will be bringing any heroes out, new or old?”

Ladybug’s smile became a bit strand, but Chat put and hand on her shoulder, “We have yet to decide. We can not do it as we used to, it is probably the most dangerous ever. But when we decide to share them again you’ll see.” Chat gave a wink at the end to the camera with his usual sly charm.

Ladybug stood a little taller, it was barely noticeable but she felt a little lighter. She looked at the blogger and the camera, “Exactly. We will not be speaking anymore on the topic as of this time.”

Chat’s ring beeped twice, “Ah well that’s my cue. See ya later.” Chat Noir gave his signature salute and went away, back toward the school but no one actually noticed.

Ladybug heard a sniffle behind her, she turned around to see the girl trying to keep herself together but failing. Ladybug turned to the people telling them she was done for the time being and to please leave. Some reporters groaned, some grumbled, and some sighed as they dispersed. Fans frowned as it had been so long since they had seen the heroine so close.

Ladybug walked toward the poor girl, she was just younger than her. She recognized her but couldn’t really remember who exactly she was.

“I’m so sorry, how are you?” Ladybug asked gently. The girl wiped her nose on her sleeve not really caring how the beetle-themed hero saw her, even if she was embarrassed.

“I’m so-so sorry, I didn’t mean to get akumatized. I’ve been trying to keep it together but I-I’m just not used to bottling up my emotions,” she admitted to the hero avoiding eye contact. Her voice was thick with emotion, her American accent was a little sluggish in her French.

“What’s your name dear?” Ladybug asked in English, she moved her head so they were making eye contact. The girl was a bit skittish, but she couldn’t blame her.

“I’m Jody Gunshiken, but I go by-by Jojo.” Jojo cleared her throat. She didn’t really know how to act in front of this person, it wasn’t like you always get to talk to a hero. The name jogged a memory for Ladybug, Jojo was an exchange student from America in Marc’s class. She wanted to be a singer, she wrote songs and seemed to have an interest in painting from the few times she had passed by their class as Marinette.

“Well, Jojo how about I bring you back to the school? I can only imagine it is hard coming to a new place and not being able to be yourself.” Ladybug said grabbing her yo-yo and putting a hand out in question.

“Yes please! I don’t know exactly where I am, I haven’t explored in this area.” Jojo became sheepish when admitting that piece of information.

“It’s okay, I remember when I started swinging through Paris, I had to completely relearn to the layout of the city.” Ladybug said grabbing Jojo, “This comfortable?”

“Yeah, it’s okay,” Jojo responded with a laugh.

“Okay, then hold on tight,” Ladybug said before bringing them up. Jojo’s screams of excitement could be heard from the school.

-•-

Marinette entered the Bakery with sore legs. While the magic mostly protected her and enhanced what her body could do that didn’t mean she didn’t still hurt as a civilian. Her abdomen hurt more than the rest of her body, she wanted to just crash in her bed for a few hours but sadly it wasn’t Friday, and she still had homework to complete.

“Hey sweetheart, how was school?” Tom asked. It was his turn to handle the front, seems like the new girl wasn’t starting work today.

“Fine, but there was an Akuma so that interrupted class,” Marinette smiled at her father.

“Yeah, her tail almost hit the Bakery-Thank you come again!” Tom waved to the customer.

“Well I’m glad you didn’t get hit, I’m gonna go up and work on my school work.” Marinette said as she passed her father.

“Wait!” Tom cried causing Marinette to jump. She turned back to her father with a questioning face. “You got out of the school before it collapsed, right?”

“Of course I did Papa. I’m okay, you don’t need to worry,” Marinette had a soft small smile on her face. Tom relaxed and nodded, “Okay, that’s good, I just wanted to make sure.”

Marinette headed up to their apartment so she could go to her room and get some work done before dinner. She would message Chat about needing to get some rest tonight. Marinette would usually push through it but with everything she needed to give herself one night. Also, something inside her said that it would be okay. That she could miss one night, maybe it was her being a Guardian and it making her connected to the Universe and its’ sense of balance.

When she had just been Ladybug it made her connected to those things as she had possession of the Ladybug Miraculous, but as she was Guardian now that connection felt stronger. Like a pull in her chest trying to tell her when not to do something or if something could be done or not. It was strange but felt right in a sense, she-

“Āyí Bridget?” Marinette’s eyes widened as she saw her aunt sitting in her living room talking to her mom excitedly. Bridget turned to Marinette, “What? You don’t sound excited to see me. Did you stop liking me after your birthday?” Bridget made an exaggerated frowning pouty face at her niece.

“No, no that’s not it. I just, I just didn’t expect to see you here.” Marinette said nervously.

“I’m just teasing,” Bridget said squishing her face up at the girl. Marinette replied with “I know”s as Bridget hugged her. Marinette felt a little squished if she was being honest. She looked over to her mother to see her hiding a smile behind her hand.

A little warning would have been nice, Marinette thought to herself. As much as she loved her aunt now was probably the worst time for one of her surprise pop ins. Gina might have been a better option, because while Gina just took her out to have crazy mini adventures in Paris. Bridget could get a little invasive, like yes she meaned well but Marinette needed space, and with Bridget here that could potentially get a little hard.

“How long do you plan on being here this visit?” Marinette asked innocently as possible.

“Oh about four months. I’ll be leaving at the begining of January,” Bridget replied casually, as if it wasn’t so important. But it was, this was the longest stay Bridget ever had. Marinette had never had Bridget here for months.

“Months,” Marinette repeated. Bridget nodded her head eagerly, “I know it’s a surprise but I’m here on business, we’re growing internationally. We already have places set up but we having giving them attention the last few years, so I volunteered to oversee the setup here!”

“That’s so cool,” Marinette replied. Marinette’s insides were melting and not in the “Oh Kwami it’s Adrien” way more in the “Oh Kwami I have another family member to watch over” way. But it’s four months, four months it’s that long. Bridget will be out of here before she knew it.

“I know right! And I can hang out with more! Also, you need to introduce me to all your friends, I hear you’ve spread your wings a bit.” Bridget said almost shaking Marinette while she clung to her. Bridget stepped back and wiped a fake tear away, “My baby has grown up so much.”

“That my baby Baihu,” Sabine said sternly, but her eyes showed a different story.

“Tomato, Patato.” Bridget said back, Marinette giggled at her aunt.

“Those aren’t even close to being the same thing!” Sabine cried.

“Much like my unofficial parental guidance I play in Marinette’s life.” The two continued to banter back and forth. Marinette smiled, she loved it when Bridget came over because her mother seemed to let a mask down. Where that mask came from she didn’t know, nor did she feel she needed to.

Marinette excuse herself to her room to get some work done. That being some actual school work done and setting some new rules for Kwami during these four months.

[stepphase]

10 Amazing Tips To Be A Millionaire Before 30

Being rich shouldn't just be a dream. Follow these tips and discover how easy it is to have great fortune early in your career.

Becoming a millionaire is a taboo subject. To say that this can be achieved at 30 seems more like a fantasy. It shouldn't be like that, as this is possible. At 21 I left school bankrupt and by 30 I was a millionaire.

I share 10 steps that will make you rich:

1. Follow the money.

 In today's economic environment you cannot earn millionaire status. The first step is to focus on increasing your income in increments and repeating that. My income was $ 3,000 a month and nine years later it was $ 20,000 a month. Start following the money and that will force you to control your income and see opportunities.

2. Don't brag, show up for work. 

I didn't buy my first luxury watch or car until my businesses and investments were producing multiple safe streams of income. I was still driving a Toyota Camry when I became a millionaire.

Be recognized for your work ethic, not for the things you buy.

3. Save to invest, don't save to save

. The only reason to save money is to invest it later. Put it in a safe and untouchable account. Never use these accounts, even for an emergency. This will force you to follow step one (follow the money).

Today, at least twice a year, I am bankrupt because I always invest my surpluses in companies that I cannot get into.

4. Avoid debts that do not pay you.

 I borrowed money for a car just because I knew it could increase my income. Rich people use debt to leverage investments and grow their cash flows. Poor people use debt to buy things that make the rich richer.

5. Treat money like a jealous lover.

 Millions of people want economic freedom, but only those who make it a priority have millions. To be rich and continue like this you have to make it your priority. If you ignore it, it will ignore you, or worse, it will leave you for someone who does take it as a priority.

6. Money does not sleep.

 Money doesn't know clocks, schedules, or vacations, and neither should you. Money loves people who have a work ethic.

When I was 26 I was in retail and the store I worked at closed at 7 pm Many times you could find me there at 11 pm selling something else. Never try to be the smartest or luckiest person, just make sure you work harder than everyone else.

7. Being poor doesn't make sense.

 I've been poor and it sucks. I had enough and that sucked too. Eliminate all ideas that being poor is somehow okay. Bill Gates said “If you are born poor, it is not your mistake. But if you die poor, it's your fault. "

8. Find a millionaire mentor. 

Most of us grew up in a poor or middle class and we limit ourselves to the ideas of one group. I have studied millionaires to duplicate what they did. Find your personal mentor and study it. Most rich people are very generous with their knowledge and resources.

9. Make your money lift the heavy stuff.

 Investing is the Holy Grail to becoming a millionaire and you should make more money from your investments than from your work. If you do not have extra money you will not make investments.

The second company I started required an investment of $ 50,000. That company has given me back that same amount every month for the last ten years.

My third investment was in real estate, where I started with 350 thousand, a large part of what I had at the time. I still own that property and it continues to provide me with income. Investing is the only reason to do the other steps and your money should work for you and lift the heavy stuff.

10. Aim for 10 million, not 1 million. 

The biggest financial mistake I've made was not thinking big. There is no shortage of money on this planet, just a shortage of people who don't think big.

Apply these 10 steps and you will become a millionaire. Put aside people who say that your financial dreams are due to greed. Avoid get-rich-quick schemes, be ethical, never give up, and once you do, help others get there too.

If you liked this article share it with your friends, you will make me very happy 🙂

Remember to leave me your comment below or through the contact form.

#Stepphase #technologies #technology #tech #technews #techworld #techtrends #smartphone #apple #techupdates #futuretechnology #newtech #techgeek #technologynews #technologythesedays #smarttechnology #technologylover #technologytrends #technologyblog #gadgets #smartphone #gadget #marketing #digital #india #technologyisawesome #amazing #repost

[cegantheayugipi]

Eternally Weak Chapter 2 (Various Genshin x Reader)

A various Genshin x reader fic, where the you can wield all seven elements but with a fatal drawback -- you're the weakest fighter in history.

Word Count: 5.2k

Pairings: currently only Albedo, Diluc, and Kaeya (slight Diluc/Kaeya rivalry incoming)

Read Part 1 here.

“Wow, you have quite the elegant manor, Red.” You spoke as you walked into the front foyer.

“Thank you. I’ll show you to the guest suite.” Diluc responded kindly.

“I wonder what you did with my old bedroom,” Kaeya thought aloud.

“Do whatever you want. Just be out by morning.” Diluc responded sharply. Kaeya showed no reaction to Diluc’s words, sauntering off in another direction.

“Blue used to live here too?” You asked, looking up at Diluc. A pained expression seemed to cross his face.

“It’s… complicated.” He responded.

You fell silent, following Diluc up the grand oak stairwell and down a luxurious carpeted hallway.

When he approached the door to the guest room, Diluc finally spoke up again. “Here is your room, please make yourself comfortable. If you’d like to use the shower, there’s a bathroom down the hall and to the left.”

“Shower?” You asked. “Is that like a bathtub?”

“Yes, have you not heard of a shower?” Diluc asked, raising his eyebrows.

“No… I spend most of my time traveling, and inns usually just have a wash basin…” You responded sheepishly.

“I see… I can show you how it works, if you’d like to try it.” You nodded, and Diluc began to lead you down to the other end of the hall.

The tall redhead opened the door at the end of the hall to reveal a spacious room with a beautiful tiled floor and a large victorian-style footed bathtub. He reached down to turn two knobs that stuck out of one side, and water began pouring out of a spout that was next to them.

“So, one is for hot and one is for cold…” He explained, a blush beginning to grow on his face. He didn’t know why, but picturing you using this bath brought inappropriate thoughts into his mind that he tried his best to push away. “Then, you can pull this lever to change it to a shower, and now the water comes out of this spout up here. This plug here can be put in the drain to fill up the bath too.”

“Wow, this looks like it’s from the future.” You commented. “Can I try it now?”

Diluc couldn’t help but picture what you looked like under your clothes at the sound of your suggestion.

“Yes, uhm.” Diluc was trying harder to ignore these intrusive thoughts. “I’ll leave you be, now. I’ll have one of the maids bring you a change of clothes.” Diluc turned on his heels, eager to get out of there and away from these thoughts.

“Thank you.” You responded, nodding your head. “You’re very kind for letting me stay here.”

“It was the least I could do for nearly getting you killed.” Diluc responded, somewhat embarrassed. He immediately left and shut the door behind himself, leaving you to your privacy.

You followed as Diluc showed you, and turned on the shower. The hot water came streaming out of the shower head, and you tested to feel how warm it was. You then took off all of your clothes and stepped into the hot shower, which currently felt like the best thing you could ever experience.

“Oh my Archons,” You moaned, relaxing under the beating stream of the water. “This is amazing!”

~~~

Diluc, who had gone downstairs to his study to organize some papers before retiring for the night, happened to hear you through the ceiling.

‘Why does she have to make such inappropriate noises…’ He thought to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking a deep breath.

Meanwhile, Kaeya was in the next room over, perusing the shelves of wine reserved for the Dawn Manor itself. He paused for a second as he heard what he could swear was a moan, but then returned to the task at hand, grabbing one of the bottles from the shelf and tucking it under his arm.

~~~

You awoke to a quiet, dark bedroom. It was so unusual for you to wake up in such a serene place, and in as comfy a bed as this. You were all too used to being woken by the first rays of sunlight that shone above the horizon, and hearing the sounds of crickets in the night fade into chirping birds of the morning. You sat up and stretched, feeling particularly special in the silk gown the nice maid had given you the night before.

You walked over to the curtains that hung the ceiling all the way to the floor. Pulling them aside, a gorgeous view of Dawn Winery nearly blinded you. Before you were balcony doors, so you carefully pulled them open and tip-toed out on the stone balcony. The chirping birds and the breeze felt wonderful right after waking up, and the scenery was gorgeous.

Looking downwards, you noticed the two men from last night sitting at a table. They were both having breakfast, albeit in complete silence. The one with red hair looked particularly gloomy despite the beautiful day. You wondered why they would sit together and eat if they hated each other, but you brushed off those thoughts as your mind turned to what you would do today.

The sun was creeping higher and higher in the sky, and you were itching to travel further onwards. You wondered how you could leave discreetly without having to say awkward goodbyes…

You summoned your backpack, rummaging through to see if you had any teleporter crystals left – you were out of luck. With the mora that Albedo gave you, you could either spend it on more food or spend it on two teleporter crystals… And you really preferred to travel slowly with a full stomach than to travel quickly with an empty one.

You returned to the bedroom, noticing that your clothes were neatly folded and placed on a chair by the door to the hallway. They were cleaned, presumably by the maid who gave you your nightgown. You picked up the clothes and smelled them; they smelled amazing. Your clothes had never smelled so good since you had bought them. For a second, you envied the owner of the Winery who could afford to live in such luxury.

You slipped out of the nightgown, and put on your freshly washed clothing. You felt more refreshed than ever. You slowly opened your bedroom door, sneaking down the hall and out the front doors of the Manor.

You looked around, spotting Dragonspine Mountain in the distance; this would be your next destination. As you walked down the front steps of the patio, however, you heard a conversation from around the corner.

“I only worked with you previously because it was necessary.” Diluc spoke calmly, but his tone was sour.

“And you don’t think these strange occurrences are important to investigate?” Kaeya responded coolly. “I believe they may have something to do with whatever the Cryo Archon is planning.”

“I think it is important,” Diluc replied, “But it is also something I could do more easily on my own without you.”

You rolled your eyes, once again annoyed by the constant hatred between the two men. If anything, you’d be the one to figure out what’s behind all of these mysterious monster appearances because you were the one actually traveling somewhere.

~~~

On the back patio of Dawn Winery Manor, Diluc and Kaeya sat on opposite ends of the table. It seemed fitting, since the two were opposites in almost every way. Kaeya was drinking coffee, meanwhile Diluc preferred herbal tea over anything caffeinated. Diluc, the wielder of fire, was loved and adored by all. He was always busy, and bore incredible weight of responsibility despite not being affiliated with the Knights anymore. Kaeya, on the other hand, was a wielder of ice and ever so cool. Despite being a captain of the Knights, he often shirked his duties to pursue personal interests.

Somehow, by an uncanny series of events, the two were brought together once again. Diluc wondered when Kaeya would finally decide to leave; he let out a sigh, pained by the presence of his once-brother.

“Master Diluc, did you send the young girl away?” One of the maids questioned as she approached the table.

“What do you mean? Isn’t she still sleeping?” He asked.

“Madam Adelinde spotted her leaving in the direction for Dragonspine, and thought it was odd.”

“Yes, that’s quite odd.” Kaeya cut in.

“She didn’t bother to speak to Master Diluc?” The maid asked.

“This is strange.” Diluc spoke. “She slept for two days, then left without a word.”

“I think this is my cue to leave as well.” Kaeya spoke, standing up from his place at the table. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

“Where are you going?” Diluc questioned.

“Dragonspine, apparently.” Kaeya answered casually.

“You’re following her?” Diluc asked, but Kaeya said nothing in response; the blue haired man simply began to walk away.

The maid also stood there, bewildered, as the events unfolded in front of her.

Diluc stood up, something decided in his mind.

“Wait!” He immediately ran after Kaeya, who had already gotten to the bottom of the steps. “I’m coming with you.”

“Why?”

“There’s no way she’d be safe with you.” Diluc responded sharply.

“Says the one who nearly killed her twice.” Kaeya chuckled, brushing off his once-brother’s harsh tone.

The two briskly headed towards Wyrmrest Valley, which they both knew was the easiest path up the mountain. After nearly an hour, they spotted you up the path, creeping around some treasure hoarders that were sitting by a campfire up on a nearby snowy hill.

“Hey!” Kaeya spoke quietly, to not give away their presence to any enemies nearby. He caught your attention, as you turned around and appeared surprised.

“Blue? Red? What are you two doing here?” You questioned.

“We should be asking the same thing to you.” Kaeya responded coolly.

“I’m just heading to Vinda- I mean Dragonspine.” You stuttered, wondering why you were being put on the spot like this. Kaeya gave you a curious glance at your response.

“Dragonspine is an extremely dangerous place.” Diluc spoke up. “I understand you’re special because you can wield all seven elements. But won’t you literally die if one of those hilichurls throws a rock at you? Let alone if you awaken a ruin guard or annoy the Fatui.”

“I may be weak but I’m not helpless. I did destroy that ruin guard from yesterday, you know.”

“That was two days ago.” Diluc responded sharply.

“What?” You asked. “You mean yesterday, right?”

“No, you were asleep for two days.” Kaeya explained.

“What?!” You blurted out, caught off guard. Kaeya raised his index finger to his lips, glancing towards the treasure hoarders nearby. The conversation immediately hushed into a much quieter tone.

“Do you normally do that kind of thing?” Diluc asked, keeping his tone quiet.

“No, I mean…” You trailed off in thought. “Sometimes I sleep for a little when I exhaust my stamina, but I’ve never done that before.”

“Diluc seriously thought you were dying.” Kaeya spoke up. “He made Adelinde check on you every hour.”

“Thank you for letting me stay over and all, but that’s a bit creepy…” You responded awkwardly. Diluc sighed, meanwhile Kaeya let out a tiny chuckle.

You continued your walk up the path towards the top of the mountain. You were hoping to visit the statue of the seven above the ruined city, and then continue onto Albedo’s laboratory to see if he had any teleportation crystals lying around. However, now that these two men were following you around, you had a feeling that they would get in the way of your goals.

As you trudged through the snow-covered hills, Diluc questioned why on earth he would spontaneously follow you alongside Kaeya. Not only did he have a lot of work to do back at the winery, but he also despised being near Kaeya. There was too much history between the two of them; too much anger.

Meanwhile, while you were walking you spotted a chest in the distance being guarded by some hilichurls; you took the initiative to sneak up closer to them.

“What are you doing?!” Diluc whispered aggressively.

“Sssh!” You responded, putting a finger to your lips.

Instead of saying anything, Kaeya simply watched you as you did something he would consider insanely stupid.

Once you were within range, you silently unleashed a hydro spell which aggravated every single one of the hilichurls, drenching them in water. Only a second later, you cast your cryo spell, freezing all of the monsters solid but still somehow only doing 1 HP worth of damage.

“We’ve got five seconds!”

Counting down in your head, you raced to the chest and flung it open. You grabbed all of the loot you could manage before racing back towards Kaeya and Diluc who stood there dumbfounded on the path. You continued to jog up the path, and the two men followed behind you. You stopped by a lit lamp post to warm up, knowing that the sheer cold would kill you faster than anyone.

“Okay, miss delicate.” Kaeya finally spoke up. “I hope you understand that Diluc and I can wipe out enemies like that in only a couple of seconds.”

“I never asked for your help, I don’t need it.” You responded bluntly. “I’m pretty good at surviving in the wild like this. Besides, I think I’ve been doing it for many more years than you have.”

“I wouldn’t want a pretty little thing like you to get hurt, that’s all.” Kaeya responded flirtatiously, making heat rise in your stomach. Diluc shot the blue-haired man a sharp glance.

“Hmph.” You turned to face away from him, hoping neither of the men would notice the effects of Kaeya’s remark.

It wasn’t long until you rounded the next turn in the road and came across some Fatui who were camping in plain sight. You knew better than to mess with them, so you tried to sneak by undetected. You tip-toed across the path to walk through the snow, staying as far away from them as possible.

However, the universe had different plans for you.

As you stepped in the snow, your foot struck something and slimes jumped out of the ground.

“Shit!” You whispered. While you cursed the high heavens inside your head, you noticed that the slimes were hydro slimes, which in all your years of traveling in the snow, you had never seen. In fact, the hydro slimes were slowly beginning to freeze, ice crystals blooming across the surface of their liquid bodies.

“Freeze!” You spoke, casting your cryo spell and freezing all of the slimes. Diluc and Kaeya immediately rushed into action, expertly swiping down all of them in seconds.

“You should be more careful where you walk.” Diluc commented as he put away his claymore.

However, the noise from the previous fight had alerted the Fatui to your presence, and you saw a Skirmisher marching directly towards the three of you. Three more were right behind, and you immediately became extremely nervous.

“Guys, we’re in trouble!” You shouted, pointing at the approaching Fatui.

“Stay back, sweetheart.” Kaeya spoke, taking his sword out once again. He and Diluc rushed to meet the Fatui in combat. You knew you couldn’t fight other humans, in case any of them were to discover your abilities and survive. However, these fighters were much too strong and they outnumbered your companions two to one.

Diluc and Kaeya were also somewhat out of sync; you had never seen two fighters work so poorly together. They timed their attacks in such a way that no elemental reactions occurred, and it seemed as though each of them were fighting a separate battle against two of the Snezhnayan attackers.

One of the Fatui swiped at Diluc, and clipped the redhead’s shoulder with his hammer.

“Agh!” Diluc exclaimed, and you noticed his health bar took a sharp drop. Your eyes widened as Kaeya was knocked down to the ground as well, his health bar also declining.

“That’s it, I’m helping you idiots!” You exclaimed, running into the middle of the battle. You cast your signature hydro then pyro combination, but then added electro immediately after.

“What a shock!” You exclaimed, sending a bolt of purple lightning that ricocheted through all of the enemies and shattered the ice while stunning them. Now, no matter how out of sync Kaeya and Diluc were, both of them would be able to deal more damage. Still, the Fatui were stronger than you had expected. All of them had shields which allowed them to keep moving despite being shocked.

You backed out of the fray as you calculated your next move, but one of the Fatui broke away from the crowd to come after you. You cast a cryo spell quickly, but despite initiating an elemental reaction, this enemy didn’t even flinch. He raised his hammer to bring it down on you, and you froze in fear.

Flashing towards you, Diluc blocked the swing with his claymore.

“Get back, we’ve got this!” He commanded, pushing the skirmisher backwards.

and one who was facing off with Diluc managed to stop his flaming sword mid-swing, and a second came in to swipe the redhead off of his feet.

“We have an interesting finding to report.” One Fatui with a gun announced as he aimed it towards you. Your eyes widened with fear. “Should we capture this one alive?”

You began to panic. Casting a dendro spell, you summoned vines to trap and entangle the four fighters. Diluc immediately set the vines on fire to deal more damage, but they all managed to break free from the vines too quickly.

“Come on, swirl!” You exclaimed, casting an anemo spell that swept snow and dirt into the air to obstruct the enemies’ vision.

“Incredible,” Diluc murmured, clutching his side.

“Keep your focus.” Kaeya cut in as he shielded his eyes from the biting winds you were creating. “The fight isn’t over yet.”

Things began to get more desperate as one Fatui swung his hammer out of the tornado, forcing you to jump and roll down the hill to get away from them.

“Solid ground!” You exclaimed, casting your geo spell. A wide pillar of earth was summoned up from the ground, shooting you into the air. You took out your scythe, putting all of your energy into a dendro spell that you were praying would work. You dove down to the ground, swinging the scythe in a huge circle around you, slashing at all of the Fatui and summoning up huge tree trunks that twisted and entwined around all four of the enemies. However, your spells barely hurt the Fatui – they were just flashy.

“Come on, Red, Blue!” You exclaimed, praying that the three of you could hold out until all of the Fatui were dead.

“Let’s retreat for now.” One of them said, and the words sent dread straight through your core.

“No!” You exclaimed, but it was too late. All four of them drew out teleporter crystals and were gone in the blink of an eye. This was the one thing you didn’t want; there was no doubt that they would report this to the Tsaritsa.

All it took was just the right circumstances – now that the Fatui knew your secret, you were sure that they would either exploit you or use this information against you.

You fell to your knees among the empty twisted trees, the green leaves being a strange anomaly in the icy mountains.

In the new silence after such an intense battle, you could hear a rumbling in the distance. Both Kaeya and Diluc turned their attention to the sound, and that ball of dread in your stomach grew more and more.

“Avalanche.” Diluc murmured under his breath.

Kaeya’s eyes darted around, looking for a safe place to hide. His eyes fell onto a small cave in the distance, but rocks were already beginning to fall from the mountain above.

“I’m so dead!” You exclaimed, knowing that one hit from one of these rocks would end you.

“Diluc, follow me.” Kaeya shouted, his tone icy cold and authoritative. The blue-haired male swept you off your feet, clutched you tightly to his chest, and took off up the path towards the cave.

Diluc gave out a pained grunt as he raced after Kaeya, swiping his claymore to shatter the pieces of rock and ice that came your way. Kaeya deftly dodged larger rocks that plummeted down, but couldn’t help it when he took damage from smaller ones that sprayed down from above.

As Kaeya ran with you clutched tight to his chest, you squeezed your eyes shut in fear. You had already taken some fall damage when you slid down the hill earlier, and you didn’t want to check and see how beaten up you were since you were sure it would only make you more afraid. Kaeya’s bare chest was warm, and it brought heat back to your face after being in the biting cold of dragonspine.

Kaeya slid into the shallow cave at full speed, his feet scraping against the icy ground. Diluc followed after, surprisingly out of breath for such an athletic man. Only seconds later, the light seemed to disappear as snow completely covered the cave entrance.

“We made it.” Kaeya panted, slowly lowering you down to the cold ground.

“T-thank you.” You responded, looking down to see how injured you were. You were fairing pretty well, considering you were just in a battle against the heavy-hitting Fatui.

Kaeya sat down on the icy floor to catch his breath, meanwhile Diluc sat down against the cave wall. The three of you remained in complete silence, before out of nowhere Diluc spoke up.

“I’m sorry your secret is out.” He murmured. “There’s no doubt the Fatui will try to use it to their advantage.”

“I know.” You responded, cursing every event in the sequence that led you to your current position.

“You still kicked ass in that fight though, sweetheart.” Kaeya responded smoothly. You laughed half-heartedly, ignoring Kaeya’s flirtatious remarks since you were so preoccupied with the situation at hand.

“How do we even get out of here?” You spoke into the darkness. It was pitch black inside the cave, and you couldn’t see anything at all.

“It doesn’t look like we’ll be able to for a while yet. We either wait until the avalanche has settled and dig ourselves out, or try now and risk getting suffocated.” Kaeya explained. You shivered at the two options; wait in the cold, or suffocate in the cold.

“So we have to sit here and wait.” You spoke, beginning to shiver from the cold as well as the chilling situation you had put yourself into.

“We need some sort of warmth here, otherwise we might freeze to death first.” Diluc added.

“I wouldn’t light a fire in here if I were you. We have a limited supply of air.” Kaeya explained. “Any kind of flame would be using up the oxygen we need in order to breathe.”

“So… What do we even do?” You questioned.

“I suppose our only choice is to share warmth.” Diluc responded, his voice pained.

“That’s the only thing we can do for now, unless you have any tricks up your sleeve miss delicate?” Kaeya spoke.

“I don’t think I have any ideas about keeping us warm.” You responded, “But…” You summoned your backpack, rummaging through it to find what you were looking for by touch alone. Your hand finally landed on a rock with a rough surface, and you brought it out of your bag.

In the pitch blackness, the rock had a faint glow to it. Diluc and Kaeya stared at this rock, since it was the only thing they could see. However, much to their surprise, you smashed the rock against the stone wall of the cave and split it into two pieces.

Inside, it glowed brilliantly; the light illuminated the cave in a soft blue glow.

“What is that?” Diluc questioned.

“It’s a luminous stone.” You explained. “They’re incredibly rare, but not usually sought after by merchants. They’re hard to find too, since over time the surface oxidizes and loses its characteristic glow. But on the inside, it grows more and more luminous with age.”

“I've never seen something like this.” Kaeya murmured. You looked over at the blue haired man, and noticed he was staring at the rock with awe.

Diluc let out a raspy cough, which brought your attention towards the redhead. Peeking out from his black coat, you noticed a stain on his white shirt that was the same tone as his brilliant red hair.

“Diluc, you’re injured!” You spoke, your eyes darting to his status bar. It was creeping lower and lower ever so slowly. It looked as though it had been creeping lower this entire time, and the discovery weighed heavily in your mind.

“It’s not that bad, I’ll be fine after some rest.” He responded. You noticed a smudge of red on his lips – he had been coughing up blood.

“It doesn’t look that way.” Kaeya cut in.

“Blue, hold my luminous stone- er, I mean stones.” You instructed, shoving the two halves into Kaeya’s hands. You walked over to where Diluc sat against the wall, kneeling down beside him.

“I’m fine, I don’t need any help-” Diluc spoke, but fell silent as he watched you unbutton his shirt. Your fingers worked fast, exposing his pale skin that was growing paler and paler.

“Shit, how much blood have you lost?” You asked, peeling the shirt away from the wound in his side. The gash that marred his porcelain skin was still oozing blood, and the heat from his body made the blood steam in the cold cavern.

Diluc looked down at his bare, bloodied chest, and grew queasy.

“I have a healing potion on me.” Kaeya spoke up. “But I don’t know how much it’ll do.”

“I have some food too. The potion should stop the bleeding and the pain, but it won’t do anything about the blood you’ve already lost.” You added.

Kaeya summoned the potion, passing it over to you. Diluc reached up to take it, but his arm was shaky and weak. You grabbed his arm with your free hand, pushing it back down to the ground. Instead, you raised the small bottle to his lips, allowing him to drink it without lifting a finger.

When he finished the potion, you watched as his status bar grew, but it stopped at only halfway.

“Wh-” You murmured, wondering why the healing potion barely helped. You looked closer, and realized Diluc’s total health was nearly 15,000. “...You took a lot of damage, didn’t you?”

“This will do for now.” Diluc spoke, his voice much more firm after recovering some health.

“Here, you need to eat too.” You pulled two apples out of your bag, handing them both to the redhead. “It’s cold in here, plus your clothes are wet with blood.”

“You should eat too. Look at your health bar.” Diluc responded, causing you to look up and see that you only had about a quarter of your health left.

“Oh, that’s no biggie. I actually fared pretty well.” You responded, smiling. “I think all of that damage came from falling down the hill in the fight.

“You didn’t get hit once?” Kaeya spoke up in surprise.

“Uhm, of course not.” You responded. “I’d be dead with one hit from a Skirmisher.”

Kaeya let out an exasperated sigh, realizing just how much of a liability you were.

“Still, you should eat one.” Diluc handed one of the apples back to you. “You’ve technically got much less health left than I do.” You sighed, nodding as you took a bite from the apple.

When the two of you were finished eating, Diluc buttoned his shirt back up and then closed his coat on top of it. He hated the feeling of his bloody shirt stuck to his skin, but he needed the warmth.

“Come here, both of you.” Kaeya murmured, “If we rest here together, we can stay warmer. We can try to dig ourselves out in the morning.”

You nodded, moving across the cold floor towards the cryo user. You turned back to look at Diluc, who hadn’t moved an inch.

“Red, you should come here too.” You beckoned for Diluc to come over.

“I’m fine where I am,” He responded stubbornly. Diluc didn’t want to move any closer towards his once-brother; at least not in this state of weakness.

“You’re going to freeze to death like that.” Kaeya spoke matter-of-factly. “Come on, this is our only choice.”

Diluc wondered why Kaeya cared about his survival, after everything that had happened between the two of them.

Giving up, Diluc pushed himself across the floor towards you and Kaeya. Kaeya laid down on his side on the cold floor, and you laid with your back against him as Diluc laid down on the other side of you. Kaeya placed his hand gently onto your waist, and you could already begin to feel the heat radiating from his chest.

“Come on, Red, a little closer.” You reached out in front of you, beckoning for Diluc to move. He had decided to lay down almost two feet away from you, which was not going to help him keep warm at all.

Diluc let out a sigh, moving closer to you. He stopped when he was inches away from you, and you rolled your eyes before grabbing his shoulder and pulling him closer to you until your chest was flush against his. His face nearly turned the same shade of his hair as he felt your chest against his, and was thankful that his head was resting above yours so all you could see was his neck.

Kaeya, on the other hand, could see just how flustered Diluc was getting in the pale blue light of the luminous stones. He smirked at Diluc, who saw this and rolled his eyes with a frown on his face. Diluc’s blush only turned deeper as you nuzzled your face into his neck, basking in the warmth that radiated from his body.

“You’re so warm…” You murmured, your lips brushing against his neck and sending shivers up the redhead’s spine. Diluc looked up towards Kaeya who was grinning devilishly from only a foot away.

You fell asleep quickly thanks to the two men on either side of you, but Diluc couldn’t stop his heart from racing as you breathed against his neck. Kaeya, who didn’t need much rest, decided to tease him.

“Can’t sleep?” He asked, his hand still resting on your waist. Kaeya shifted to prop his head up by resting his elbow on the ground underneath.

“Shut up.” Diluc grumbled, still flustered. Kaeya threw a smirk at the redhead.

“She’s… definitely interesting.” Kaeya commented, his hand traveling up your side to play with your hair as you slept. “I think I’ll keep her company for a while longer.”

“That’s probably a good idea.” Diluc murmured, “She’s so special, yet so weak. I wonder how she has survived alone for so long.”

“It’s pretty much a miracle.” Kaeya responded, “But hopefully with us around, we can make sure she doesn’t get hurt.” He sighed, closing his eyes. It was getting late, and he knew the next day would be even more brutal than the last.

~~~

Read the next part here.

[seiyasabi]

A Farmer Boy’s Crush

(This is a Yandere Ushijima x Female Reader story! I’m sorry in advance, because I think this man is scary ;(( Also, there will be no part two of this, and I’m sorry if it sucks lol.

TW: !Noncon!, Stalker Ushi!, Size kink!, Cumflation!, Spanking!, Dacryphilia?, Choking!, Breeding Kink!, Cockwarming, Threatening behaviour!, etc.. 

Please proceed with caution!)

“I’m sorry, Ushijima-san, but I’m not interested in you. I’m focusing on my career, so I don’t have time for a relationship.”

It started when you were in highschool. 

The volleyball player confessed to you on Valentines Day, equipped with handmade chocolates and roses from his Mother’s garden. At the time, you had no interest in boys. You were way too focused on your future career, viewing a significant other as a distraction. Ushijima, to his credit, didn’t lose his temper when you turned him down. He nodded, silently stalking off to the gym, his posture perfectly straight. 

You’d brushed the entire event off, feeling guilty for turning him down so nonchalantly, but also standing your ground. The large man has a harem of girls, and you were sure he’d find a girlfriend that would treat him right. 

But, what you didn’t know, was that all he wanted was you. He could never go for another girl, because you’re one of a kind. 

He loves how you pick weeds out of the pavement, loves how you help old people bring their groceries to their car, loves how you’re YOU. 

So, in his spare time (aka, when he’s not playing volleyball), he watches you. He’d followed you home one day, and he spotted you through your curtainless window. 

That’s how it started; watching. 

But watching wasn’t enough.

Soon, he’d break into your home, snagging a worn t-shirt or panties, a chapstick on your desk, a polaroid you recently took, etc.. Once in his possession, he’d stalk off home at a leisure pace. Ushijima would then place the item in the shrine in his closet, relishing the new item in his collection. 

This went on for years, up until today. Today, he’d had enough. He’d heard from your friends on campus that you’d scored a date with a boy named ‘Kane,’ causing the large man to drive like a mad man in the direction of your home. 

Seeing you from your room’s curtainless window, his nose flares in anger. You’re in a cute cherry patterned dress, (applying makeup/doing your skincare routine) in your vanity table’s mirror. 

Stomping up your concrete front stairs, he grabs the hidden key in your potted plant outside, and slips inside. Wakatoshi makes his way up your house’s steps, creeping towards your closed door. He can hear music playing, most likely from your phone, and can see your shadow moving from underneath your door. 

Grasping your metal door handle, he steps inside your air freshener infused room. His presence startles you, and he can’t help but feel pleasure at the look of shock on your face. 

“Ushijima-san? What the hell are you doing-?” His large hand grips your throat, dragging you to your lilac coloured sheets. The olive haired man forces you onto your mattress, large body stradling your smaller form. Your weak attempt at freeing yourself is heartwarming, your spluttering and hits seem kitten-like. 

“Why would you go to someone else?” You try to respond, but are unable to, his ministrations not allowing you to breathe. Noticing this, he releases his vice-like grip, merely hovering his calloused hand over your throat. 

“What-” Your voice cracks, causing you to clear your throat, as tears drip down your pretty face, “What are you talking about? Why are you in my house?” 

He ignores your questions, steely gaze glaring down at you, “Kane cannot provide for you. I have a stable income, he does not. I have my own home, he does not. He has no redeemable qualities. I cannot understand why you would wish to date him, when I am already in the picture.”

You start to sob pathetically, not understanding why your scary ex-classmate is assaulting you verbally and physically, “Ushijima, I don’t understand what you’re talking about! I haven’t spoken to you for years-”

His grip around your throat tightens once more, as he speaks through gritted teeth, “We may not have spoken, but I’ve kept a close eye on you. What happened to you ‘focusing on your career?’ You were such a good, hardworking girl until this point, but now you’re suddenly whoring yourself out to an unimpressive boy. Let me show you who you belong to, (Your Name), because it seems that you’ve forgotten.”

 Smacking at his muscular arms, you try to struggle out of his grip. Wakatoshi’s thick fingers tug at the zipper on the side of your dress, slipping it open with ease. He slides the thin straps off of your shoulders, forcing the straps up over your hands, and sliding the entire garment off of you. You’re left in your unmatching strapless bra and panties. He hums in delight at the sight; this must mean that you weren’t going to open your legs for that boy. 

“You look beautiful,” He releases his grip just enough for you to breathe with ease, before ragdolling you over his muscular thigh. Your cute ass is on display to the olive haired man, his warm palm ghosting over the fat, “It’s a shame that I must put you in your place.”

Without warning, he slams his hand down, all whilst his free one covers your mouth. A scream rips from your throat, only to be muffled by your ex-classmate. Raising his previously used hand, he spanks you once more, the skin on your ass feeling like it’s on fire. 

“I’m going to spank you twenty-five times, don’t try to struggle. If you do, I’ll increase it to fifty,” All you can do is sob in response, causing the large man to continue his assault. The ex-volleyball player doesn’t hold back in the slightest, bruising your ass down to the muscle. By the time he’s finished, your entire body is shaking, face slick with snot and tears. Ushijima can’t help but grow hard at your pain fueled expression. You’re just too cute, “Good. Now, let me reward you for your behaviour.”

You shake your head no, muffled pleas of ‘stop’ just barely heard. Your ex-classmate refuses to acknowledge your words, instead pulling your bruising ass against his hard cock. He unbuttons his trousers, pulling out his long, thick cock. It slaps against your bare stomach, as Ushijima shucks your panties and bra off of your body, exposing you fully to him. Removing his hand from your mouth, you’re finally able to speak as he gropes the fat of your tits, “Please stop! Don’t do this! I’m sorry that I refused you in highschool! Why don’t we go on a date right now? I-if we do that, then we can wait-” 

“Shh, there’s no need to panic. We can go to dinner after this; I’ve waited too long for this,” Long fingers reach down to play with your clit, rubbing and squeezing the bundle of nerves with two fingers. His ring finger dips into your opening, forcing your dry walls open. 

“Ushijima, please-”

“Call me Wakatoshi. We’re dating, afterall,” forcing his finger in and out whilst rubbing your clit, making your walls slick without your consent. 

“Wakatoshi-” He removes his finger from inside of you, before quickly replacing it with the tip of his red, precum slicked cock. Without warning, he slips inside, spearing you open painfully. A loud yelp leaves your lips, as more tears drip down your face, “Take it out! Take it out! It hurts so bad!” 

He relishes the way your slightly moistened walls knead him, practically sucking him in. He rubs your clit with quick, small circles, trying to help you accommodate his size. This, in turn, allows his wrist to lay against your tummy, feeling the way your tummy distends with his cock. 

“You’re so tight. I always knew you were perfect for me,” He starts to bounce you on his prick, making it feel like your pussy was being ripped from your body. A small scream leaves your lips at the feeling, only for you to be silenced by a heated kiss. Waka’s body curls into your own, forcing you further onto his cock, and making it even harder for you to get off of him. 

He bucks up into you like a mad man, fucking you on his length at top speed. The pain you previously felt slowly turns into pleasure, as the pressure on your clit increases. A few small moans escape your mouth into his, as he swallows them whole. 

Wakatoshi lightly smacks your clit, making your eyes roll to the back of your head in pleasure. He releases you from the kiss, choosing instead to suck hickies onto your lolling neck. He grunts at the feeling of you tightening with an oncoming orgasm, as he rubs your clit as hard and fast as he can. 

“Cum for me, cum right now. Let your womb swallow my seed, (Your Name), it’s clear that you need my baby to set you straight,” More tears drip down your face as you try to stop yourself from cumming. 

“No! I don’t want a baby!” Waka doesn’t respond, only slapping your clit one last time. A strangled scream erupts from your throat, as you squirt all over him and your light coloured sheets. The force almost knocks him out of you, but he presses you down completely on his cock, allowing him to cum directly against your unprotected cervix. 

Your body shakes with your sobs as you wrap yourself with your arms, and you try to get off of him. Wakatoshi wraps you in a constricting hug, keeping you completely enveloped by his large frame. 

“You’re such a good girl for me, (Your Name). Now, let’s get you home, you clearly can’t be independent. Just rely on me, and I’ll keep you well fed and happy.”

You shake your head no, trying to escape his arms, but it’s no use. He’s so much bigger and stronger than you, making it virtually impossible for you to escape. 

Grabbing your blanket, he wraps you with it, before standing to his feet. His cock is still inside of you, as he walks out of your house, and towards his parked Kei truck. He opens the door, and slips inside, you still cockwarming him. He sets a hand on your distended, cumfilled belly, and sighs in content. 

“Everything will be alright. Let’s get back to the farm, and I’ll make you a nutritious meal. After all, you need to be strong for our growing baby.” 

[duckprintspress]

Ten Things We Hate About Trad Pub

Often when I say “I’ve started a small press; we publish the works of those who have trouble breaking into traditional publishing!” what people seem to hear is “me and a bunch of sad saps couldn’t sell our books in the Real World so we’ve made our own place with lower standards.” For those with minimal understanding of traditional publishing (trad pub), this reaction is perhaps understandable? But, truly, there are many things to hate about traditional publishing (and, don’t get me wrong - there are things to love about trad pub, too, but that’s not what this list is about) and it’s entirely reasonable for even highly accomplished authors to have no interest in running the gauntlet of genre restrictions, editorial control, hazing, long waits, and more, that make trad pub at best, um, challenging, and at worst, utterly inaccessible to many authors - even excellent ones.

Written in collaboration with @jhoomwrites, with input from @ramblingandpie, here is a list of ten things that we at Duck Prints Press detest about trad pub, why we hate it, and why/how we think things should be different!

(Needless to say, part of why we created Duck Prints Press was to...not do any of these things... so if you’re a writer looking for a publishing home, and you hate these things, too, and want to write with a Press that doesn’t do them...maybe come say hi?)

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1. Work lengths dictated by genre and/or author experience.

Romance novels can’t be longer than 90,000 words or they won’t sell! New authors shouldn’t try to market a novel longer than 100,000 words!

A good story is a good story is a good story. Longer genre works give authors the chance to explore their themes and develop their plots. How often an author has been published shouldn’t put a cap on the length of their work.

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2. Editors assert control of story events...except when they don’t.

If you don’t change this plot point, the book won’t market well. Oh, you’re a ten-time bestseller? Write whatever you want, even if it doesn’t make sense we know people will buy it.

Sometimes, a beta or an editor will point out that an aspect of a story doesn’t work - because it’s nonsensical, illogical, Deus ex Machina, etc. - and in those cases it’s of course reasonable for an editor to say, “This doesn’t work and we recommend changing it, for these reasons…” However, when that list of reasons begins and ends with, “...because it won’t sell…” that’s a problem, especially because this is so often applied as a double standard. We’ve all read bestsellers with major plot issues, but those authors get a “bye” because editors don’t want to exert to heavy a hand and risk a proven seller, but with a new, less experienced, or worse-selling author, the gloves come off (even though evidence suggests time and again that publishers’ ability to predict what will sell well is at best low and at worst nonexistent.)

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3. A billion rejection letters as a required rite of passage (especially when the letters aren't helpful in pinpointing why a work has been rejected or how the author can improve).

Well, my first book was rejected by a hundred Presses before it was accepted! How many rejection letters did you get before you got a bite? What, only one or two? Oh…

How often one succeeds or fails to get published shouldn’t be treated as a form of hazing, and we all know that how often someone gets rejected or accepted has essentially no bearing on how good a writer they are. Plenty of schlock goes out into the world after being accepted on the first or second try...and so does plenty of good stuff! Likewise, plenty of schlock will get rejected 100 times but due to persistence, luck, circumstances, whatever, finally find a home, and plenty of good stuff will also get rejected 100 times before being publishing. Rejections (or lack there of) as a point of pride or as a means of judging others needs to die as a rite of passage among authors.

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4. Query letters, for so many reasons.

Summarize all your hard work in a single page! Tell us who you’re like as an author and what books your story is like, so we can gauge how well it’ll sell based on two sentences about it! Format it exactly the way we say or we won’t even consider you!

For publishers, agents, and editors who have slush piles as tall as Mount Everest...we get it. There has to be a way to differentiate. We don’t blame you. Every creative writing class, NaNoWriMo pep talk, and college lit department combine to send out hundreds of thousands of people who think all they need to do to become the next Ernest Hemingway is string a sentence together. There has to be some way to sort through that pile...but God, can’t there be a better way than query letters? Especially since even with query letters being used it often takes months or years to hear back, and...

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5. "Simultaneous submissions prohibited.”

No, we don’t know when we’ll get to your query, but we’ll throw it out instantly if you have the audacity to shop around while you wait for us.

The combination of “no simultaneous submissions” with the query letter bottleneck makes success slow and arduous. It disadvantages everyone who aims to write full-time but doesn’t have another income source (their own, or a parents’, or a spouse’s, or, or or). The result is that entire classes of people are edged out of publishing solely because the process, especially for writers early in their career, moves so glacially that people have to earn a living while they wait, and it’s so hard to, for example, work two jobs and raise a family and also somehow find the time to write. Especially considering that the standard advice for dealing with “no simultaneous submissions” is “just write something else while you wait!” ...the whole system screams privilege.

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6. Genres are boxes that must be fit into and adhered to.

Your protagonist is 18? Then obviously your book is Young Adult. It doesn’t matter how smutty your book is, erotica books must have sex within the first three chapters, ideally in the first chapter. Sorry, we’re a fantasy publisher, if you have a technological element you don’t belong here…

While some genre boxes have been becoming more like mesh cages of late, with some flow of content allowed in and out, many remain stiff prisons that constrict the kinds of stories people can tell. Even basic cross-genre works often struggle to find a place, and there’s no reason for it beyond “if we can’t pigeon-hole a story, it’s harder to sell.” This edges out many innovative, creative works. It also disadvantages people who aren’t as familiar with genre rules. And don’t get me wrong - this isn’t an argument that, for example, the romance genre would be improved by opening up to stories that don’t have “happily ever afters.” Instead, it’s pointing out - there should also be a home for, say, a space opera with a side romance, an erotica scene, and a happily-for-now ending. Occasionally, works breakthrough, but for the most part stories that don’t conform never see the light of day (or, they do, but only after Point 2 - trad pub editors insist that the elements most “outside” the box be removed or revised).

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7. The lines between romance and erotica are arbitrary, random, and hetero- and cis-normative.

This modern romance novel won’t sell if it doesn’t have an explicit sex scene, but God forbid you call a penis a penis. Oh, no, this is far too explicit, even though the book only has one mlm sex scene, this is erotica.

The difference between “romance” and “erotica” might not matter so much if not for the stigmas attached to erotica and the huge difference in marketability and audience. The difference between “romance” and “erotica” also might not matter so much if not for the fact that, so often, even incredibly raunchy stories that feature cis straight male/cis straight female sex scenes are shelved as romance, but the moment the sex is between people of the same gender, and/or a trans or genderqueer person is involved, and/or the relationship is polyamorous, and/or the characters involved are literally anything other than a cis straight male pleasuring a cis straight female in a “standard” way (cunnilingus welcome, pegging need not apply)...then the story is erotica. Two identical stories will get assigned different genres based on who the people having sex are, and also based on the “skill” of the author to use ludicrous euphemisms (instead of just...calling body parts what they’re called…), and it’s insane. Non-con can be a “romance” novel, even if it’s graphically described. “50 Shades of Gray” can sell millions of copies, even containing BDSM. But the word “vagina” gets used once...bam, erotica. (Seriously, the only standard that should matter is the Envelope Analogy).

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8. Authors are expected to do a lot of their own legwork (eg advertising) but then don't reap the benefits.

Okay, so, you’re going to get an advance of $2,500 on this, your first novel, and a royalty rate of 5% if and only if your advance sells out...so you’d better get out there and market! Wait, what do you mean you don’t have a following? Guess you’re never selling out your advance…

Trad pub can generally be relied on to do some marketing - so this item is perhaps better seen as an indictment of more mid-sized Presses - but, basically, if an author has to do the majority of the work themselves, then why aren’t they getting paid more? What’s the actual benefit to going the large press/trad pub route if it’s not going to get the book into more hands? It’s especially strange that this continues to be a major issue when self-publishing (which also requires doing one’s own marketing) garners 60%+ royalty rates. Yes, the author doesn’t get an advance, and they don’t get the cache of ~well I was published by…~, but considering some Presses require parts of advances to get paid back if the initial run doesn’t sell out, and cache doesn’t put food on the table...pay models have really, really got to change.

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9. Fanfiction writing doesn't count as writing experience

Hey there Basic White Dude, we see you’ve graduated summa cum laude from A Big Fancy Expensive School. Of course we’ll set you up to publish your first novel you haven’t actually quite finished writing yet. Oh, Fanperson, you’ve written 15 novels for your favorite fandom in the last 4 years? Get to the back of the line!

Do I really need to explain this? The only way to get better at writing is to write. Placing fanfiction on official trad pub “do not interact” lists is idiotic, especially considering many of the other items on this list. (They know how to engage readers! They have existing followings! They understand genre and tropes!) Being a fanfiction writer should absolutely be a marketable “I am a writer” skill. Nuff said. (To be clear, I’m not saying publishers should publish fanfiction, I’m saying that being a fanfiction writer is relevant and important experience that should be given weight when considering an author’s qualifications, similar to, say, publishing in a university’s quarterly.)

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10. Tagging conventions (read: lack thereof).

Oh, did I trigger you? Hahahaha. Good luck with that.

We rate movies so that people can avoid content they don’t like. Same with TV shows and video games. Increasingly, those ratings aren’t just “R - adult audiences,” either; they contain information about the nature of the story elements that have led to the rating (“blood and gore,” “alcohol reference,” “cartoon violence,” “drug reference,” “sexual violence,” “use of tobacco,” and many, many more). So why is it that I can read a book and, without warning, be surprised by incest, rape, graphic violence, explicit language, glorification of drug and alcohol use, and so so much more? That it’s left to readers to look up spoilers to ensure that they’re not exposed to content that could be upsetting or inappropriate for their children or, or, or, is insane. So often, too, authors cling to “but we don’t want to give away our story,” as if video game makes and other media makers do want to give away their stories. This shouldn’t be about author egos or ~originality~ (as if that’s even a thing)...it should be about helping readers make informed purchasing decisions. It’s way, way past time that major market books include content warnings.

Thank you for joining us, this has been our extended rant about how frustrated we are with traditional publishing. Helpful? No. Cathartic? Most definitely yes. 🤣

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[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

So I've just realized that I am two months nicotine free for the first time in a year.

I started smoking clove cigarettes in the absolute darkest time in my life, and continued for about a year. Tried to quit 3 times but never lasted more than 3 weeks. It's amazing how 8 weeks feels like a lifetime when you're abstaining from compulsions/addictions.

I never wanted to smoke. Hated when my mom did it, used to yell at her something fierce when I caught her. During my year from hell though, it became the thinnest of threads connecting me to survival. And I know people say "whatever you think you're getting from it there are other ways, it's not worth the cost" and.....well. I absolutely believe they think that. I even believe that when your life is stable enough (relative) it's probably true. Two weeks after I graduated, I finished my last pack and simply did not buy another, same as the last two times I'd tried to quit. Only this time it worked. I had a home. I had an income. I had mental and physical health care. I had my service dog. I had my wife. I had so much more than I'd had the last several times I'd tried to quit, let alone what I'd had when I STARTED smoking.

I tried telling myself it was cleaner to vape than to smoke my cloves, until wifey showed me the studies about your heart. I tried to tell myself that if there was gonna be hell to pay either way, at least the cigarettes were cheaper and harder to smoke in large quantities. I told myself a lot of things over the year I smoked.

I'm glad I'm done. 8 weeks abstained is something I'm proud of. I hope I don't ever start again.

I feel lucky that it only took me a year to quit. I feel lucky that I didn't need anything more than just ending my supply. I'm proud of myself and anyone else who manages to stop. It's not easy. Relapse is part of the journey, and one day when the stars align with our hard work, it won't be anymore. But that becomes a choice we have to keep making forever, and that's its own journey.

Lots of love to anyone on that path tonight. I've got faith in you.

[venushasvixens]

October 4th - Hunter/Prey (Din Djarin x Reader) / Kinktober 2021

[A/N] first time ever writing with Mando, and was a lot of fun ✨

WARNING: 18+, contains adult content

Night time.

You didn't take this game so seriously. It was a fun frolic in the woods of Endor, long after the battle of the moon. For once, you wanted to feel like the bounty, running for their dear life from the feared hunter. You had overgone the rules with Din, who thought you were crazy for asking such a fucked up request. Masking it as practice, you really see how quickly the Mandalorian could find you, even if you did decide to run away if you had a falling out.

It wasnt exactly a clear view around you, masked by trees and foliage. Outfit consisting of browns and greens, you made sure that there was no way to find you at all for a good three hours. But a rustle here and there behind you made you oddly suspicious. Paranoia got the better of you, your head snapping back to see what the source of the noise was. It was only an hour, and he gave you a head start. How could he have found you this quickly?

Your flight or fight kicked in. As you ran through the brush, your hood fell off, your hair bellowing in the wind. Great, you thought. All the better to get you caught. Panic seeped into your shoulders as the feeling of being watched grew stronger. You could’ve swore you saw the glint of silver beskar catch your eye in the distance. Just as you come onto a stream and a few large rocks, you hid yourself behind, trying to make yourself blend in as quickly as possible.

The running waters could overcome your panting, while the rocks gave you some shelter to hide behind. One more look around, and your attention went instantly to your tracker. Opening the small screen, you could see a little dot some distance away, inching closer to your location. You prayed that it was an Ewok, since they were so easy to fight off. All you had to do was kick them and they would go flying. Your eyes grew wide as you glanced back onto your tracker, the dot now gone. Oh shit.

“Found you.”

Fear filled your body as you felt the strong hands of the Mandalorian picked you up like a rag doll and shove you into a rock. You came face to face with his smooth daunting mask, not sure whether or not you were looking him straight in the eye underneath his helmet.

“And so the hunter has caught his prey.” Din said, his voice hoarse and amused. His large body pressed right into yours, he made sure you felt all that you had done to him. Unbeknownst to you, watching you ran away from him made Din excited. It was primal and animalistic as he craved to catch you, bringing you in and using you as a reward for catching his prey.

And now that you were here, he has to take his reward now.

The only light was that from the stars, and even that wasn’t enough. You heard the clang of Din’s helmet as it fell onto the ground, and two strong hands lifting your legs around his waist. You gasped as you felt, through however many layers of clothes, his hard cock pressed against your clothed cunt.

“So that's why you were so eager to find me?” You huffed as Din grinded and thrusted against you. You could feel the want and need in his arms as they held you tightly, yelping as he bit down onto your neck.

“I-I couldn't hold it in any longer,” Din’s voice cracked into the small of your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin, “I-I could just eat you u-up, right here, right now.”

Those words sent a shiver down your spine. He needed you so badly, his love bites only a fraction of what he was going to do to you. You could feel your cunt jolt as you craved just as much as he did, allowing yourself to be used and fucked to his liking.

“Then take me.”

That was all you said, a signal to Din for his mauling. In a flash of motion, your pants were thrown off to the side, and pulled down almost all the way. He was going to take you standing, holding your thighs in his strong hands. You both let out a pained moan as he sheathed himself inside you entirely. Balls deep, his thick member stretched you out entirely, threatening to split you in half.

As he ram his hips into your cunt, all you could do was gasp as you tried to adjust to him. It sent waves of ecstasy with each thrust, his strokes erratic as he aimed to drink in this moment. How desperately you wanted to see the expression on his face, lost and concentrated as he fucked into your tight hole. You felt so small as Din engulfed your body, but that was perfect. You were easy enough to handle and control and thats how Din liked it with you when it came to this.

“G-gods, I’m making you mine tonight,” He snarled in your ear as his hips rolled even harder into you, stamina stronger than before. “You’re all mine.”

At first all he wanted was to be inside you, using your pussy to milk him for all the cum he had in him. It was with precision as his cock hit your cervix with each stroke, making sure that every inch of your pussy was marked with his touch. All you could do was scream as he tore into you, a howl that pierced the night sky. The squelching sounds of your juices was drowned out by all the feral cacophony that emitted from your mouths. Caterwauls, moans and yowls as you felt the incoming explosive ball of euphoria looming over you both.

“P-please, oh stars, D-din.” You cried, nails digging into the back of his head. You decided this was the time to return his favor by biting down onto his exposed neck, latching on. You only made it worse as Din sped up, nearly knocking you out unconscious by the brutal force of it.

You were already over the edge, mindlessly cumming on his cock. Overstimulated, your orgasm stretched out longer than normal, something that has never happened before. One, two, three thrusts was all it took as hot ropes of cum spurted inside you, the Mandalorian completely unhinged. Each pant sounded so pained, full of relief but with a beastly undertone. It was so similar to the sound of a monster coming to the end of a fight, attempting to calm down and retreat, with a few scratches here and there.

Your cheek rested onto Din’s cold beskar chest plate. As you tried to catch your breath, you could hear the Mandalorian trying to utter a few words as they got caught in his throat. It brought you immense pride that you rendered one of the most feared bounty hunter’s in the galaxy speechless.

“You’re amazing.” He finally said, leaving a kiss on the temple of your forehead. “D-didnt know you had that in you, angel.”

“Don’t act like you didn't have any part in it.” You smiled weakly, feeling the soft gumble of a chuckle vibrate against your face.

“Now, come on,” he groaned as lifted off himself, “lets get back to the ship.”