#and my notebook is tiny these are all done in a 3 by 5 inch paper
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sakras · 2 years ago
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at some point someone's gotta have told her
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whump-tr0pes · 4 years ago
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Honor Bound 5 - 2
This is a series. Start here.
This is a sequel to Honor Bound, Honor Bound 2, Honor Bound 3, Honor Bound 4, and the prequel Vera.
AO3
Content warning: unplanned pregnancy, discussion of death, PAST DEATH OF MINORS, self-hatred, past head injury, mention of mutilation (to cover a brand), past torture, emesis
~
Finn balanced the large paper bag from the pharmacy with one hand, and pushed open the door with the other.
Ellis sat alone in the living room, staring blankly at the mostly unfinished puzzle in front of them. Their face was pale, their eyes dull and deeper set than they normally were. Finn wet their lips and closed the door behind them. Ellis slowly lifted their head.
“Hey, babe,” Ellis said softly. “How was the trip?”
“Frustrating,” Finn said as they hung up the car key on its hook beside the door. “The rizatriptan came in, but the Zofran didn’t.” They walked to the kitchen and set the paper sack on the counter. They looked at Ellis through the window in the wall between the kitchen and the living room, lined with barstools on the living room side that were pushed up against the counter. “I’m sorry, babe.”
“It’s all good,” Ellis said weakly, and slumped down against the couch. “I’ll be okay.”
Finn chewed their lip as they pulled the multivitamins out of the sack and put them in the cabinet, next to the spices. “Yeah, I know, but I… I would have liked…”
“Yeah, me too,” Ellis murmured. Their gaze returned to the puzzle in front of them.
Finn watched them for a moment, then tucked the can of pickled ginger into the fridge. “You doing the new puzzle?” they said softly.
“No,” Ellis said. Their voice sounded thin as a string. “Just looking. You know I wouldn’t keep doing it without you.”
“Damn right,” Finn huffed with a laugh.
Ellis laughed, too, and the sound was soft heat in Finn’s chest. Finn looked over at them where they lay almost completely horizontal now on the couch, staring at nothing. Their hands went still.
“Ellis?” Finn said softly. “Is… is something wrong?”
Ellis shifted, then blew out a deep sigh through their lips. “Um… no,” they said, finally.
Finn abandoned the paper bag and went to Ellis’s side. They sat down on the couch next to them. Ellis shifted onto their back and stretched their legs across Finn’s lap. Finn gently rubbed Ellis’s knee, their hand inches from the spot where if Finn grabbed Ellis’s knee just right, just above the joint, Ellis would shriek and laugh and push them away, their cheeks flushing, their eyes sparkling…
They squeezed gently. “Babe,” they said, and watched Ellis’s gray-green-blue eyes laze slowly over the puzzle. “What’s wrong?”
“I want to move out,” Ellis croaked. Their voice was tight with tears.
“Oh.” Finn drew in a slow, deep breath, and winced around the ache that formed around their lungs as they did. “Okay.”
“With…” Ellis waved their hand vaguely in the direction of the back of the house. “…the new plan, the new rescue, taking in people DFS would have killed… it’s…” Ellis raised their gaze and met Finn’s. It’s… dangerous, Finn.”
Finn swallowed hard. “Yeah,” they rasped. They reached out and took Ellis’s hand. “But that’s… we… we knew that, babe.”
“We did,” Ellis said softly. Finn gently rubbed their thumb over the back of Ellis’s hand. Ellis’s free hand went to their belly, covering up the tiny little baby inside them. They weren’t showing yet. They wouldn’t, after only a month. The baby was only the size of a grain of rice, now, according to the book Finn had purchased in town. They and Ellis had looked at the book together just yesterday, and laughed at how the pictures of fetuses looked more like newly-hatched chicks or baby dinosaurs or anything other than a baby—
“It has your eyes,” Ellis had said, pointing at the two little black dots resting at the top of the little blob.
“And your tail,” Finn had said, and Ellis had pushed them away, laughing, then pulled them right back in for a kiss…
Ellis took in a slow, deep breath. Finn’s hand drifted to rest over Ellis’s, over the baby. Ellis’s hand was cool, but Finn could feel the electric current of excitement under it, the knowledge of the tiny little blob inside Ellis that was half Ellis’s, half theirs.
“I…” Ellis cleared their throat and swiped at their eyes. “I love this family. More than anything. You… you know that.” Finn nodded. “And…” Ellis blinked tears out of their eyes. “And we support each other. We keep each other safe. But with… with that…” They waved again at the back of the house. “I…”
Finn took both of Ellis’s hands and squeezed gently, their knuckles going white as they met Ellis’s gaze. “I think I—”
“I’ve already lost two babies,” Ellis said, heavily. Their eyes filled with tears, and this time, they let them fall, rolling down their temples and into their black hair, limp from not being washed for a few days. “I… I love this family, and I love this cause. But…” They looked down at their abdomen. Their shirt was pulled up just the slightest bit, revealing a thin stripe of their stomach. “No amount of refugees will be worth losing another baby. Or… or being killed, so she has to grow up alone.”
Finn’s mouth pulled into a strained and rueful smile. “I thought we decided it was a boy.”
“Well, right now, it’s just a blob,” Ellis said softly. “Sex organs don’t form until week seven, remember?”
Tears burned in Finn’s eyes. “I remember,” they murmured. They held Ellis’s hand to their mouth and pressed their lips firmly against the knuckles.
“So… I… I can’t live here, if we’re going to be bringing refugees through. DFS will find out eventually. He’s got… who knows how many people working for him. And I can’t… I refuse… I can’t…” Ellis’s voice twisted in a sob. “…lose this baby, too.”
Finn’s stomach lurched, and their heart squeezed painfully in their chest. Their hands tightened on Ellis’s as something poured into Finn’s blood, hot and sharp, filling them up, making them ready to fight, to die.
Daniel Schiester will die if he threatens my baby.
Finn bit down hard on their lip. “I… I know.” There was another pull, weaker, but there all the same. There was a pull into the fight. They’d always wanted to be in the thick of it, always wanted to go where things were hardest.
Why the fuck did I sign up to be a medic, then?
Because I’m a coward, and deep down I’d rather be on the sidelines than be the person to take the bullet.
Ellis’s gaze moved over their face. “What is it?” they murmured.
“Um…” Finn’s eyes flicked to the puzzle on the coffee table. Barely even the outside edge was finished. On the box was a picture of a desk, covered in lovely writing utensils and leather notebooks, smudged with ink. Really crafty stuff. Edrissa had picked it out for them from a store in Crayton.
But Finn had always wanted the fight. They’d emerged from Gavin’s warehouse with a head injury, but was otherwise unscathed. And… and Colleen’s fucking nightmare castle… They’d emerged from that with nothing but a brand. Their hand wrapped around their right forearm, over the bandage that Vera had placed after slicing the brand until it was beyond recognition almost two weeks ago.
When the team had disappeared into Colleen’s murder house, Gavin’s cane marks had been opened again, Isaac had been caned and burned and cut and beaten again, Sam nearly lost their fucking arm, Tori was lost in her own head more often than not… and all Finn came away with… was a fucking brand.
They wet their lips. Their eyes focused again, and they saw Ellis staring at them, a little wrinkle between their eyebrows. Finn bent forward and kissed the worry line. When they leaned back again, Ellis’s worried expression was still frozen in place.
“Um…” Finn chewed their lip again. “I… I know.”
“So…” Ellis swallowed hard. Finn’s heart broke as they looked at the uncertainty behind Ellis’s eyes, the worry that came not just from concern about the baby. “Will you, um… will you… come with me?”
Finn’s stomach dropped, and the air rushed out of their lungs like they’d been punched. “Ellis—”
“I know there’s so much work to be done,” Ellis said softly. They pressed their lips together, although Finn could see them trembling. “There’s so many people to save. DFS is an evil motherfucker, and he needs to be stopped. But…” Ellis’s face hardened. Their jaw set. Their eyes flashed. “Sorry, but nothing is worth risking this baby for. Are you coming with me?”
Beneath the fierceness, the anger, there fluttered a terrible, wounded vulnerability. Ellis looked up at Finn, their eyes still brimming tears. Ellis bit down hard on their lip.
Finn leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to their lips. “Yeah,” they said gently. “I am. They’re my baby, too. And… you’re my fucking family.”
Ellis whined softly against Finn’s lips. They pulled Finn down on top of them and clutched at them, holding them tight against their chest, as they pressed the kiss deeper.
“We could move into that little cottage down the road,” Ellis sighed. Finn’s hand went to cup Ellis’s face, then slid down their neck, over their shoulder, down their side until they pressed their fingers into Ellis’s hip. “It’s like a ten-minute walk, but far enough that we have plausible deniability. It’s kind of a shithole but the others would help. We…” Ellis gasped as Finn pulled them hard against them. “We just need to tell the others.”
The back door swung open. Finn groaned and pressed their forehead against Ellis’s. Then they extricated themself from Ellis’s embrace and sat up. Ellis pushed themself up to sitting and pulled their knees into their chest. A faint blush burned on their cheeks.
At least they had some color now.
Gray, Zachariah, Edrissa, and Sam all filed into the kitchen. Zachariah carried an armload of zucchini – or some kind of squash, Finn didn’t actually know – and set them on the counter. Edrissa carried two fistful of leafy herbs. Sam and Gray followed behind, holding a bowl of fresh string beans each.
Finn’s stomach grumbled. “Are we having all of that for dinner?”
“No,” Edrissa said with a light glare. “What dish that you know of combines all these things?”
“Fuck, I don’t know how to cook,” Finn grumbled under their breath. Gray put the bowl of string beans down on the counter and came into the living room.
“How are you feeling?” they said gently to Ellis, and sat at a couch next to theirs. “Still nauseated?”
Ellis shrugged weakly. “A little. I don’t think I have anything left to throw up.”
“Let me make you some tea!” Edrissa called from the kitchen. She darted to a cabinet and pulled down a tin with for Ellis scrawled across it in Edrissa’s handwriting.
The corner of Gray’s mouth pulled up as they looked at Edrissa. As she went to the drawer that held the tea strainer, Zachariah shuffled to the stove and grabbed the kettle. He filled it in the sink and put it back on the stove. He glanced at Edrissa as he lit the burner. Edrissa flushed and scooped out a tablespoon of dried herbs with the tea strainer.
Gray turned back to look at Finn. “The trip into town go alright?”
“No Zofran,” Finn said flatly. “But the rizatriptan is in. Hopefully no more migraines for Gavin.”
“That would be ideal,” Gray said dryly as they rubbed their forehead.
Finn glanced at Ellis. They looked back at them, their eyebrows pulled together, their mouth pressed into a painful smile. Finn reached out and laced their fingers through Ellis’s.
Ellis nodded once. “Gray… we should… probably tell you, um, something.”
Gray lifted their head and met Ellis’s gaze. A flicker of fear passed over their face, made all the more creased with stress and worry. Finn swallowed, their stomach burning faintly with guilt.
“Um…” Ellis nervously rubbed their thumb over the top of Finn’s hand, mirroring the motion Finn had made a few minutes before. “We… we would like to move out.”
Gray’s eyes went wide. They sat back slowly and folded their hands in their lap. Their eyes slowly unfocused. Finn chewed their lip and waited for Gray to speak.
Gray wet their lips and slowly opened their mouth. “I… understand,” they said, finally.
Finn blew out a slow breath and looked up to see Sam and Edrissa standing in the window of the kitchen, looking out with identical expressions of hurt on their faces. Zachariah stood behind them, his arms crossed across his chest, looking nervously between them all.
“We love you, so much,” Ellis said in a rush. “We love this family. Gray, I’ve been with you for, for seven years.” They gave a weak laugh. “And I’d die for any of you. But… with DFS doing his bullshit…” Their hand drifted again over their belly, as if they could hold off the world with only that. “…I can’t risk my baby. There’s a cottage just a bit down the road. We’ll visit all the time. But at the end of the day, when DFS comes knocking, because he will…” Ellis raised their shoulders jerkily in a painful-looking shrug. “…I can’t let this one get hurt. I… I…” Ellis’s chest heaved in a shaky breath, then another, then another. “I thought Finn was dead. I lost my family once already. And I can’t, I can’t, I can’t—”
Gray quickly stood and crossed to Ellis. They crouched in front of them, joints creaking as their knees bent, and pulled Ellis into their arms. Ellis shivered and clutched at Gray. They breathed hard against their shoulder, their fingers digging into Gray’s shirt, as Finn rubbed slow circles on their back.
“I absolutely understand,” Gray said, their voice pitched low.
Finn leaned over and pressed a kiss to Ellis’s shoulder. They drew in a slow, deep breath, and felt Ellis doing the same. They smiled.
“This is your baby. You protect your family, above all else.” Gray leaned back and their lips curved up in a watery smile. “Besides. You’re thirty-five years old. Plenty old enough to be moving out of the house.”
Ellis playfully smacked Gray’s shoulder, barely hard enough to even make a sound. “Fair enough.”
Gray took both of Ellis’s hands in theirs and squeezed. “This baby deserves all the protection in the world. I think it would be safer for them to be distanced from this…” They threw a glance at Zachariah where he stood in the kitchen. “…operation.”
Ellis nodded jerkily. Their eyes shone with tears. “Thank you for understanding.”
Gray leaned forward and pulled them both into a hug this time. “Of course I do,” they said softly.
“They’ll be your first grandchild,” Ellis said in a small voice.
Gray shuddered and squeezed Finn and Ellis tighter. Finn could feel Gray trembling, and they swore they heard Gray sniffle. When Gray pulled back, their eyes were red. “Oh,” they whispered.
Ellis wiped their eyes on their shirt. “You’ll have to think of what you want them to call you,” they said softly.
Gray let out a sort of twisted whine and smiled wide, showing a toothy grin. “I’ll give it some thought,” they said. Their voice broke. “Never thought that would, um… h-happen.” They drew their hand over their face.
“Yeah, me neither,” Ellis whispered.
The three of them burst out in half-laughter, half-sobs. Gray squeezed Ellis’s hands once more and stood. They groaned and rubbed at their knee. They straightened and rolled their eyes. “I’m certainly old enough to be a grandparent.”
Ellis grimaced. “Don’t say old.”
Gray tilted their head in concession. “Fine,” they said with a laugh. “I’m a fifty-three-year-old spring chicken.”
“Speaking of chicken, what’s for dinner?” Finn said, looking towards the chicken.
Ellis shot upright and gagged weakly. They smacked their hand over their mouth and dashed from the room. They disappeared down the hallway, and Finn could hear the weak sound of them retching into the toilet. Edrissa’s mouth puckered. She turned to the stove and stared at the kettle as it came to a boil.
Finn bit their lip. “What… what was it?” they said weakly. “They did okay with chicken yesterday—”
“I think it’s just the mention of food,” Gray said. They stared into the hallway with Finn. “This is just… a rough pregnancy for them.”
“It shouldn’t be Rh incompatibility,” Finn said as they wrung their hands. “We’re the same blood type. They checked at—”
“I think it’s the stress,” Gray said softly. “They…” They blew out a slow breath through their lips. “You all have survived… a lot.”
In the kitchen, the kettle began to whistle.
Continued here
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hitsuackerman · 5 years ago
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Soom Meetings (Hawks x Reader) nsfw
Prompt: Its quarantine time. You were preparing for a video conference with a few other heroes. Hawks, being the cheeky bird that he is, has other plans for both of you
Warnings:  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), cursing
a/n: this entered my mind since we have to do online meetings w/c are a pain in the ass huhuhu i just thought, what would Hawks do if he were added into the mix? Enjoy my self indulgence xD
Masterlist to my other fics :) here
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Taking a sip of your coffee, you couldn’t help but stare blindly into space. It was quite early, at least for you. On a normal day, you would wake up at 10am. Gotta get that full 5 hour sleep heroes dream of. Today would mark the 80th day of quarantine and things were not going well.
The bitter goodness your coffee had to offer now began to circulate your system. The stinging sensation your eyes felt with each blink slowly went away. Yawning somewhat made things a little more tolerable. Staring at the view of your glass windows, you savored the clear blue skies and silence your unit had to offer.
At least for now.
With the steaming cup of coffee in your hand, you tiptoed to your room. A ghost of a smile on your face.
Slowly opening the door, you creeped closer to your bed. Careful not to step on any of the feathers scattered on the floor. Eyes darting to the messed up sheets, crimson wings spread out flat as his back rose and fell in a steady rhythm. His arm hanging limply on the edge of the bed.
Gently, you lifted one of his larger feathers and made space for you to sit down. His hair as messy as always. The tufts of hair splayed all over the pillow. Not a sign of stress on his sleeping face. Unconsciously, your finger began to trace his jaw.
His wings began to crest and his feathers began to fluff up. His hanging hand now blindly searched for you. When he felt the soft skin your thigh had to offer, you quickly placed the cup on the bedside table and waited for him to make his move.
A small squeak left your mouth when he easily maneuvered you back into bed. Bare arms snaking your waist as his head nuzzled into the crook of your neck. Legs beginning to tangle with each other. One wing now protectively resting above you. There was no doubt in your mind. You adored mornings like this.
“Well, good morning to you.” You ran your fingers through his hair. The feeling of him tightening his hold on you felt lovely.
“I have to admit,” His voice was still raspy. Deep. “This quarantine makes me thankful. I get to spend more time with my favorite hero.”
“Oh… I’m your favorite hero?”
“Fishing for comments?”
“Perhaps.” You giggled. “You are ranked higher than me, though.”
“That doesn’t matter, Lovebird.” He chirped. “You're a rank below me yet you're underground. That’s literally an impossible feat.”
“I honestly don’t know how that happened.” Drawing circles on his back, he let out a satisfied hum. His eyelashes tickled your skin. Hawks was fully awake now.
“Well, we don’t have any patrols scheduled for today.” He shifted his position. Placing himself between your legs you willingly opened. His hands slowly grabbed your wrist and pinned them just above your head. Bringing himself closer to you, he began to trace the tip of his nose on your neck. “How about we continue where we left off last night, eh?”
The sudden grinding of his hip along your accumulating heat was enough to make you wrap your legs around his waist. Tilting your head, Hawks growled a tiny bit before sucking on your tender skin. As he sucked on your skin, he interlaced his fingers with yours.
His morning wood rather evident. He pushed himself on your clothed entrance. Lazy morning sex was something you would want. Hell. Just feeling Hawks inside you was something you would definitely want. BUT, you couldn’t.
“As much as I’d like you to fuck me lazily in the morning,” You managed to free your hand and pushed him away. Your foot resting on his chest, keeping his lust filled eyes at bay. He was pouting and this only made things worse. “I have a meeting in 20 minutes.”
Holding your ankles, he placed your leg on his shoulder and went back to his previous position. His chest now touching yours. His trademark smirk resting on his lip.
“I’m sure you can just turn your video off, baby~” He nibbled on your lower lip and grinded his hips once more. “Or we can just give them a show.”
Hawks felt a tugging sensation on his chest. He knew you were using your quirk on him. The next thing he knew, he was floating away from the bed. Your fingertips emitting a mahogany glow. Placing him on the chair, you sat on your knees and smiled. Acting all innocent. 
“We can do that later.” You stood up and went to the closet. Feeling his eyes following your every movement. You took out your hero costume’s leather jacket and white shirt dress. Used to his stare, you changed in front of him.
“You’ll regret teasing me, chickadee.” He threatened. He stood up and walked towards you. Buttoning your shirt when he was inches away from you. His hot breath brushing your face. When he finished, his hands began to wander your curves as you put on your jacket. “Better watch out, Number 3.”
This man would be the death of you. The way he smoothly held on to your chin while giving you a deep kiss was enough to make you weak. Screw the meeting, that’s what you thought, but this was an ‘important’ one based on the email.
“I’ll be in my office, Number 2.” You booped his nose and went your way. He did, however, smack your bare ass when you turned around. For a second, you played with the thought of grabbing a pair of his boxers but, nah. It would be a lie if you weren’t curious what his antics would be later.
Opening the doors (and leaving them ajar), you immediately went to your PC and prepared everything. When your wallpaper finally appeared, you blushed at the sight. It was one of your first photos with Hawks. Taken approximately 4 years ago.
Opening the Soom app, you let out a silent groan. Everyone was now online and currently waiting for the host to start the meeting. There were 8 green dots. A bunch of heroes that you were in charge of. Edgeshot being one of them.
The meeting was a simple one. A briefing for an upcoming mission to come in 3 months. As to why they chose this online platform still baffles your mind. Your eyes darted to the door when a stray feather began to float it and wander around your office. Right when you were about to call for Hawks, the call for the meeting began.
Straightening yourself, you put on your game face and observed each of the participants. The feeling of weight being slowly added onto your shoulders crept in. Somehow, you had managed to let the spotlight land on you. Because of that, you were given more missions despite not being tied to any agencies.
Teamwork was never your forte. But safety was. You always managed to coax yourself into being a team player by making sure each of them were far from harm.
As the minutes dragged by, the familiar pop of yellow peeked inside your office. Raising a brow, he took that as an invitation and led himself in. A plate of chicken nuggets on his hand. Looking at his wings, you saw how there were barely any feathers. Just the small soft ones.
Your eyes widened when he was just about to walk into your camera’s view. 
“Is something wrong, (hero name)?” Fatgum asked. His voice cutting the meeting. All eyes were on your video now. The corner of your eye twitched when Hawks moved your notebooks aside and sat down. One knee resting on top of the other.
“Nothing.” You faked a smile and your professional tone back. People were still clueless that you and Hawks were dating. The two of you had to thank you being an underground hero for that. “Please proceed.”
The meeting continued and this time you made sure you were on mute before opening your mouth.
“Whatever it is… do NOT.” You scolded him. Eyes not wavering from the call. But, your arm was extended just enough for you to pinch his thigh. The little wince of pain was enough to make you content. 
“Shouldn’t have done that, love nugget.” He took the wandering feather and made it hover around his finger. Instructing the small feather to creep behind your back, the small red thing did its job.
Your breath hitched when the feather brushed your exposed nape. Your body shivered as the feather did small back and forth movements. Yet, in the video, the feather was small enough to be deemed as non-existent. Clenching your fists, you tried not to be bothered by the sensually soft touches Hawks gave indirectly. 
Hawks was now walking away from you. The feather still doing its job. Your eyes were focused but he knew your peripheral vision was on him. Perfect, he thought. Now he was situated across from you. The same playful smirk on his lip. Lifting his hand, he motioned that he would keep his mouth shut.
You knew too well he was playful, cocky, and a tease. So when he began to take his shirt off, your eyes darted to his little strip show. It was not helping one bit that he was flexing his toned muscles. Your throat was definitely dry.
“So what are your thoughts about the plan, (hero name)?” Edgeshot asked. There was no response and all they could see was you and your eyes focusing somewhere else. “(hero name)?”
“YES!” You snapped back. Clearing your throat. “I think the plan looks alright. The division among heroes is compatible. But I am con-”
You jumped from your seat a tiny bit. Your hands held on to the edge of your desk. The feeling of his hands running up and down your thigh was making your core heat up. Having caught you off guard, Hawks managed to pry open your legs. His golden eyes clearly teasing you from under the table.
“I’m, uh, concerned about the entry?” Your hand now held on to his messy hair. Hoping that he wouldn’t go any further than that. The regret of not getting his boxers now flooded your system. Only being in your panties made things much easier for him. You were now biting your tongue and tried to even your breathing.
Hawks was now kissing your inner thighs. Poking his tongue out, he trailed it all the way to the hem of your panties. His teeth tugging the hem and releasing it with a snap. Seeing your jaw tighten and your chest heaving, it only encouraged him.
His finger now began to slide up and down on your panties. A wet spot indicating that you were turned on with his advancement. Spreading your legs further apart, another feather came swooping in and landed straight into his hand. Using the tip, he began to brush it on your skin. The grip you had on his head shattered. 
Using the feather, he sliced the corners of your panties. Looking down at him, you gave him a small pout. One not noticeable to those on the video. You liked those panties and now he just had to slice em. It was still hot though, no denying that. 
“Holy shit~ Keigo~” Thank quirks your mic was on mute. Feeling his tongue lick your entrance made you push your back to the chair. Blinking away the urge to end the meeting and have him take you on your office table. Which, come to think of it, has never happened. 
It was pretty evident that your cheeks were now pink and your eyes hazy. When he sucked on your swelling clit, you fisted some of his hair. Only pushing him and telling him to continue.
“Now that we’ve got that cleared. (hero name). We suggest that you hold another meeting to run through the details.” The chairperson said.
“Fuck, yeah.” It was more breathy than you intended. You mentally slapped yourself.
Both Hawks and your eyes widened. This was getting too interesting for the winged hero. Wanting to push it more, he inserted his middle finger and began to pump slowly. His teeth began nibbling on your lower lips and clit alternatively.
“What I meant to say was, yeah.” Your face was a blushing mess but stoic in their eyes. “Forgive the language. I was rather excited and pumped up.”
“Pumped…” Hawks whispered with a small chuckle. Sucking on your clit one more time, he inserted two fingers. His pace a little faster. Using his free hand, he trailed under your shirt and squeezed on your breast, tugging your hardened nipple.
Releasing the grip your right hand had on his head, you slammed the mute button once more.
“Fuck!”  You covered your mouth and hoped they saw it as a cough. “Holyshitholyshitholyshit!”
Your back was now glued to the back of the chair. Lowering your body a bit, you gave him easier access and he happily licked and sucked your engorged clit some more. Knowing the mute button was doing its magic, he too let out a moan. He was starting to become frustrated. The throbbing sensation in his caged cock was getting out of control.
“When will that meeting be over, baby?” He asked. His fingers doing the work for him as he palmed his cock. His eyes blew up with lust. 
“Shh…” You reassured him. Meeting his gaze, you gave a soft smile. “It’s almost over.”
With hints of frustration, he fully exited his fingers away from your wet pussy. Licking the juices off his fingers, he crawled out from under your desk. All he wanted to do now was to show himself in the video and put an end to his suffering. Taking his boxers off, he stuck his tongue out and tossed it over your head.
No one noticed it except for one.
Your chat box pinged and you opened it.
MT. LADY: GIRL! WTF WERE THOSE BOXERS?!
(h/n): Are you seeing things, Yu? :p
MY. LADY: Dont think I didnt see yer face. Im not as blind as the others.�� Who? Do i know him? You dating someone? How did i not see this coming?!
(h/n): Hmm… ;)
That’s all you replied and you closed the chat. Your eyes traveled to Hawks, who was now hovering behind your monitor. Palming his throbbing member. Winking at your flustered face. 
“C’mon baby bird…” He mouthed. He wiped a fake tear away from his eye.
Finally, the chairperson spoke and wrapped things up. When he finally dismissed the meeting you practically left the room without saying farewell. Pushing your chair back, you opened your arms and immediately felt his warm body against yours.
Both your lips crashed into each other. It was the perfect definition of a hot, steamy, and messy make out session. Lifting you up, he placed you on your desk. Your hands pushing any obstacles that lay in your path. Quickly taking your jacket off, you tilted your head as Hawks began to leave a trail of kisses and hickeys.
Impatience won and the winged hero practically ripped apart your shirt. Pushing both your bodies, you felt the cold surface touch your back.
A loud moan escaped your mouth as he began to suck and nibble on your hardened bud. His other hand entering your wet hole. 2 fingers in while his thumb rubbed circles on your clit.
“I want you now, Keigo…” You whimpered as he began moving downwards. Leaving behind sloppy kisses till he reached your abdomen. Taking his fingers out, he used the juice and began spreading it on his cock.
Teasing you with the tip, he brushed it against your clit. Your legs instinctevely wrapped around his waist in an attempt to pull him closer. Before he would put himself in you, he glanced at the door and red blurs came swarming in. Attaching them to the base of his wings. Once all of them were in place, he stretched them to their full span. He knew you were always turned on when his plumage was full while he made love to you.
Resting his elbow beside your head, he gave you a deep kiss. His tongue asking for entrance as he slowly slid himself in. Your back arched with pleasure as he nibbled on your lower lip. Your wet hungry pussy feeling full from his shaft.
Roaming hands found their way to the base of his wings. Giving them a bit of massage before digging your nails into his skin. He let out a growl mid-kiss. Thrusting harder, he earned a loud moan from you. The kind of moan that immediately pushed him to the edges.
His hands found their way to your hips. His grip firm, keeping you in place as he began thrusting into you faster and deeper. The carnal look in his golden eyes slowly ate the coil in your stomach away.
Beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. The hickeys now fully visible. The only sound inside your office were the sounds of skin slapping against each other, moans, pants, and loud cursing from sheer pleasure.
“Kei…” You were close and you were not sure how long you could last. “Fuck~ Harder, baby~”
Placing the bend of your knee on his shoulders, he leaned closer towards you and kissed you once more. His thrust much more deeper and he felt his cock twitching. His sinful mouth found its way to your earlobe. Tugging it ever so slightly and nibbling on it.
“Cum for me, Pro-Hero #3.” He whispered. “Show me just how much I can break your walls.”
The last thrust he gave you snapped. You nails dug into his skin while your legs pushed him in even deeper. A wave of heat began to flood your body. Each thrust Hawks did as he rode out your orgasm made your body shudder. Not soon after, Hawks grunted and bit down your neck as he let his twitching cock release inside you. Feeling your pussy milking his cum was overwhelmingly delicious.
Collapsing on top of you, he chuckled.
“You need to have more online conferences, nugget.” He lifted his head and peppered your face with light, feathery kisses. The afterglow evident on your blushing smiling face. “I love you, (Y/N).”
“I love you too, Keigo.” Your leg began brushing his. “Shall we prepare lunch?”
The two of you shared a giggle as his feathers flew out of the room to get some towels and clothes. In your mind, you were already plotting your revenge. Two could definitely play this game.
232 notes · View notes
canumoveurseatup-no · 6 years ago
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Lush pt.2
From my new miniseries Lush Life
Summary: You and Steve have now set the rules for your new relationship and things are going extremely well. With an influx of college work and trying to do well with your internship, you get too deep into your own head and Steve is there to help you release that stress.
Pairing: Dom!Steve x Black!SubCamGirl!Reader
WC: 4.7K
Warnings: 18+!!! daddy kink, Dom/sub dynamics, subspace, pain kink, tiny bit of angst, aftercare.
A/N: I think Lush is one of my pieces with the most notes and I’m just like WOAH! Thank you all for the support, I hope you all like this part just as much!! If you like it please leave verbal feedback and reblog
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Lush’s Rules
Rule #1: Always be honest with Daddy
Rule #2: Don’t be afraid to safe word, you will not be punished for it.
Rule #3: Punishment will always fit your actions
Rule #4: Never exceed each other’s hard limits unless consented beforehand
Rule #5: Confide in Daddy when it comes to your stressors and personal matters
Rule #6: I may be your Dom but you set the pace, don’t be intimidated
Rule #7: Don’t be bratty. It will result in a punishment.
Daddy’s Rules
Rule #1: Be patient with me, I am new to this.
Rule #2: Don’t be afraid to safe word if I ask for something out of your comfort zone
Rule #3: Don’t be afraid to discipline me
Rule #4: Be honest and don’t be afraid to open up
————
After that night, you and Steve had set terms for each other and things were going smoothly. The team had been badgering him to let them know what he thought of Camgirl Clubhouse and all he said was “he found what he needed and was sticking with it”. While the other guys were talking about their favorites, Steve kept you a secret. They were practically begging him to let them know the details so they could search for the very cam model that pulled Steve out of his funk and turned him more happy go lucky more than usual.
-------
“Come on man, how was it?,” Sam urged, sitting on the edge of his seat.
“Let’s just say it was more than I bargained for and it was better than I could have ever expected,” Steve smirked at the people interrogating him.
“Oh no, don’t cop out we need more than that,” Bucky nudged him.
You walked in the room, also very chipper but they didn’t expect anything less out of you as that’s how you were, “Hey guys, whatcha dooooin’?,” you smiled cutely at them with your notebook and folder in hand waiting for Happy as he drove you to campus. You’d told Tony thousands of times that you could drive yourself but he said it would give him peace of mind to know you’re getting to and from campus safely.
“Steve here busted a few last night thanks to some mystery camgirl and he won’t tell us who. It’s a bit selfish, we want in,” Nat crossed her arms and stared at Steve. You felt your cheeks heat up as you tried to keep in a chuckle. So now you know where he got the idea of visiting the site from in the first place.
“Nat!,” Steve scolded, “Not everyone needs to know that,” Steve turned red as if he didn’t just fuck you into the next century last night. Smacking you back and forth between realms, and making you cry tears of ecstasy.
“It’s okay, Stevie. I have my own site that I like to visit and I had a great night as well. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Times have changed. Sex isn’t taboo anymore,” you winked at him and everyone turned back to you in question.
“And what site was that?,” Wanda asked but Vision grimaced at her, “What? I didn’t know there were specific sites for guy cam models,” she defended.
“We’ll talk later,” you told Wanda, knowing she’d probably forget about the conversation before you even came back.
Steve raised a brow at you and rolled his tongue in his cheek before biting it, crossing his arms. He knew you were playing games and he enjoyed the teasing.
“Anyway!,” you grabbed a breakfast shake and a fruit cup out of the fridge after your phone beeped from a notification to let you know Happy just arrived, “I’m glad you could finally relieve some stress Steve. It’s healthy,” you patted his shoulder before skipping out of the room. He watched as your ass and lovely thighs jiggled as you bounced and it reminded him of the way your skin rippled as you lied beneath him calling him Daddy like it was a prayer just 12 hours ago.
------------
Things were great at first, you were following your rules, you weren’t being bratty and you and Steve were stable in your new relationship, giddy with the fact that it was more than just sex to the both of you. But then your semester hit you like a freight train. You were drowning in essays which you hashed out and did well on but then the internship and the reports were draining you. You were a workaholic and everyone could see that so when you’d run around after being at campus all day and not talk to anyone because you were trying to get shit done, they didn’t blink an eye. But because you and Steve had discussed your exclusive relationship and the dynamics, he wasn’t too fond of it. You were working yourself to death and weren’t acknowledging him and when you did you were bratty and Steve had strictly told you not to be bratty with him.
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“Who do you think you’re getting snippy with?,” Steve’s voice was low as he stepped close to you. No one was in the kitchen or near it, just you two.
“Who do you think you’re getting snippy with?,” you mocked.
Steve took another step close and wrapped his hand around your throat, not enough to have you panicking for air, but enough to let you know he wasn’t in the mood to play with your bratty antics.
“I’m gonna need you to get your shit together. You don’t take your bad attitude out on, Daddy,” he gritted through his teeth. 
You huffed and his grip tightened a bit, expelling a whine from you, “I’m serious, Y/N. Don’t test me,” 
“Okay, I’m sorry,” you frowned.
“Not good enough. You wanna act bratty? Well fine, just know that brats don’t get to cum like good girls and looking at how you’re acting, you’re facing a lot of time without any play from me,” he released his grip on you
“That’s fine,” you shrugged, “I don’t need it,” 
He did that damn thing with his tongue in cheek and biting the inside as he nodded again, “Remember that,” He kissed your forehead and walked away. You knew you just fucked up, but you were too deep to try and go back to fix it. You’d still get a punishment either way.
---------
But you were so deep in your own head that the specific rule had slipped your mind. You had accepted Steve as your dominant because you needed that structure in your life and you were finally getting it but with everything going on, you paid it no mind.
“Y/N, I’m gonna need you to take a break,” Steve came up behind you in the lab while Tony and Bruce took a lunch break, class was cancelled today so you took this as the chance to finish up those damned reports, “Not for me but for yourself, you’re running yourself into the dirt, baby,” His hands held your waist lightly and he kissed the back of your head. As much as you wanted to meld your body into his, you had to focus, “I-I can’t I’m almost finish, then I’ll take my break,”
You heard him sigh behind you and he turned you to look him in the eyes, “Baby, I’m not gonna ask again. You wanted structure, I’m trying to give it to you but you’re not listening,” Steve spoke in a stern tone and you felt a few bricks from your wall get chipped off.
You were so close to giving in but you had to finish, “I-I can’t, Stevie... just let me finish and I-,”
“You’re off to a bad start. First you’ve been acting bratty all week then when I ask you to take a break so you don’t drive yourself insane, you ignore it and talk back. Keep it up and you’ll find yourself with a punishment and not a fun one,” his nostrils flared and you gave him puppy dog eyes before biting your lip and turning back to your laptop to finish the report.
“Suit yourself,”
——-
And suited yourself you did. Now you found yourself in the corner of your bathroom with uncooked rice under your knees.
“Daddy, it hurts,” you whined. He had set a timer for 15 minutes in time out then you’d be done.
“Each time you whine I add a minute, each minute you spend quietly, I deduct two. It’s really up to you,” Steve sat on the edge of the tub with a smirk and you whined quietly. He knew you’d enjoy being spanked so he took another route. Kneeling on uncooked rice. You had set a list of punishments that you were okay with and though the idea of this was new to you, you were willing to try it. You felt yourself starting to sink back on your heels but Steve yanked you up straight by your collar, “Stay upright, baby or I add time,”
You were having a hard time following this. You felt tears prick your eyes as he stared back at you and that’s when you felt yourself starting to regress into subspace, you didn’t quite know that though as it never really happened to you before but with Steve, it happened naturally. In this moment, only you and Steve existed. Not the rice under your knees, not the dripping faucet from when Steve put water on your knees to make the rice stick, not even the TV playing in your room, it was just you two. You were so dizzy with thought that you didn’t realize he deducted your time because you were so quiet.
He brought you up to your feet and kissed your lips, barely touching them. You moved into him and your hands tangled in his shirt, “I need you, Daddy,” you huffed and you knew he’d deliver, but not without the price of sexual punishment as well. He carried you to the bed and locked the door, telling FRIDAY to turn on the soundproof setting before going into your closet and taking out your fuck machine. He removed your panties and big shirt, just admiring each inch of your body. He kissed your thighs and you sighed in content. You couldn’t really describe your headspace but it was like a big cloud that you just continued to sink down as the time passed and it felt wonderful.
He spread your legs and ran his finger up and down your slit, teasing your clit until he started to see you glisten with your juices. He leaned forward and gave your clit little licks in which you tried to close your legs to shy away from. He forced your legs open and spanked the inside of your thigh,
“Don’t do that. Stay open for, Daddy,”
“Y-yes, Daddy. I apologize,” your hands were by your head and they clenched into fists as he slowly ate you out. Your mind was like a corset and he was slowly unraveling the ribbon ties. He pushed two fingers into you and you sucked in a sharp breath, letting him please you. All that was on your mind was Steve. The man who quite literally, signed a ‘contract’ to be your Dominant and take care of you in every aspect, inside the bedroom and out. When it came to BDSM and your Dominant and submissive dynamics, it was more than just blindfolds and ball gags. It was a connection and bind that only the people in the relationship understood because each relationship is different.
He continued licking your clit as he pumped his fingers, you tangled your fingers in his hair but he wasn’t with you touching him right now. He removed his fingers from you and laced them with yours to keep your arms pinned. His face was buried in your pussy as you moved your hips again his mouth. He let you have your fun as you cursed out at the air about how good his mouth felt. “Daddy, may I cum?,” you asked. Your hips started to stutter as you were climbing the mountain that was your orgasm and was about to reach the peak. Steve smiled against you as he flicked his tongue against your sensitive clit, sucking your lips into his mouth and slurping all the juices you were giving him. He withdrew when he felt your walls flutter against his tongue, you were coming up on your first orgasm of the night, but like he said, brats don’t get to come like good girls. You cried out when you were denied, from this, you sunk further into that cloud. Haziness starting to take over completely.
He pulled you further to the edge of the bed and pushed your machine toward you. He spread your slick lips open and placed the head of the dildo right at your opening before taking the remote and turning it on. The machine starting to slowly fuck you and you tried to crawl backwards, away from it but Steve straddled your stomach and started playing with your hardened nipples.
“It’s just you and me tonight, baby. No camera, no audience, just you and me and I’m gonna get you how I want you. So be a good girl and take it, I’ll reward you when I feel you’ve deserved it okay? Can you be a good girl for daddy?”
You peered up at him and your eyes glistened, your mouth hung slightly open before squeaking out an “Uh huh” and a small nod, “I- I promise I’ll be good, Daddy,”
“Good,” he wickedly smiled at you and turned up the pace of the machine, making it go faster.
“Oh G-God!,” the machine was hitting deep and hitting all the right spots, “I don’t wanna be a bad girl and cum w-without your permission, D-Daddy. Make it stop I’m gonna cuuuum,” you warned.
He pulled his cock out of pants and was jerking himself off right in front of your face, “Bet it doesn’t feel as good as Daddy now does it?,” He smirked darkly.
“N-nooo,” 
He slapped his leaking head against your lips and you easily opened, knowing what he wanted. He leaned forward on the bed and straightened himself out, fucking your mouth as the machine fucked you. This was like a wet dream come true. His thighs and ass flexed as he fucked your face down into the bed. You gagged against him but that only encouraged him to go harder, his fingers curl into the bed comforter and his growls of pleasure resonated from deep within him, the way swears left his mouth had you close to cumming all over again. 
“Such a good little whore taking my cock deep in your throat like this. Love the way you choke on me, your lungs begging for air,” he thrusts and your back arches with a gag.
He pulls out and huffs, swearing to himself before sitting up to straddle you again. He tugged at your nipples and twisted them making you yell out in slight pain. He slowed down the machine and leaned forward to attach his mouth to your nipples. He knew your nipples were highly sensitive and any contact could have you almost cumming right then and there. Teeth tugging, tongue swirling, you were moaning out for him to stop or else you’re gonna cum but he didn’t. He then turned up the machine and you were convulsing under him completely.
“Please Daddy! I don’t wanna be a bad girl, I wanna be good!,” easily overwhelmed in this state you got emotional and hid your face in your hands. You felt yourself gushing and cried out louder from the intensity. Steve didn’t slow down though, the sucking noises only got louder and the machine got turned up faster. The deliciously sloppy noises of the toy fucking you took over the ringing in your ears.
“Daddyyyy!!!,” you placed your hands on his shoulders and pushed him away to look at you in your eyes. You were dazed and confused, it was like you were having an outer body experience. He stared back at you and noticed the glint, the look in your eyes was foreign but he was into it, it made his dick harder and he knew if something was up you’d safe word.
“I-I just came w-without your permission,” your bottom lip quivered but he only kissed you.
“It’s okay, baby. I’ve decided to let you cum as much as you can tonight. Let me do my job and take care of you,”
He stopped the machine and pushed it away from you to crawl in between your legs and turn you around. You could hear him pulling his pants down all the way then felt his thick girth push into you. You gripped the sheets and felt yourself slip into your cloud even more. He held your hips and buried himself deep, this was different than the machine, this was real, this was your man’s dick fucking into you, fitting like a tailored suit and you felt your toes curl. You were panting and whining into the covers as he picked up the pace.
The way his dick rubbed perfectly against your soaking, ridged walls had your eyes rolling and the tears flowing. He took your hands and kept them latched behind your back and pulled you into him. Your head hung as your body had gone limp from the pleasure. He wrapped a hand around your throat and sat you up right.
“You’re my good girl aren’t you, baby?,” he grunted into your ear as he squeezed the sides of your throat. You felt your air supply shorten and your senses heighten. Your ass bounced against his pelvis at the fast pace he was going. He loved that, he loved the way the skin on his thighs stung as yours bounced off his from the way his body met yours.
“Daddy’s good girl,” you were almost incoherent and you felt yourself tighten around him again, “Pleeeaase! Please d-daddy ah!,” you tried to scream but it got lodged in your throat.
“Please what? Speak up, good girls speak up for what they want,”
Thing is, you couldn’t speak up. You were whining from the feeling and couldn’t speak. You were impressionable in this state so when he said that, you in turn felt like you were a bad girl because you didn’t speak up, couldn’t... speak up. You wanted to be a good girl for your Daddy, but you were feeling so much. “You’re so wet, baby. You feel so good. Cum for me again,”
“I- I- nnnnn,” your thighs shook as you came again, it trickled down your thighs, the shiver that ran through you didn’t match the feeling of your warm cum.
Steve had gone into his own headspace. He was connected with you and experiencing his own euphoria of seeing you in this state. He had to try and control himself harder than usual so he wouldn’t choke you so hard to the point you passed out, though you’d love that in this moment. You were practically inaudible and just weeping. 
You were experiencing too much euphoria you had no choice but to cry, it’s like you died but were resurrected and all your senses were dialed to a thousand. Your sense of touch had your skin feeling like it was a soft pillow and every ounce of contact from Steve had you shivering and your skin tingling. Your sense of smell, you could smell his clean cologne along with the sweat of you two, you could smell the trace of wintergreen mints on his breath. Your sight, despite the tears, it’s like everything was in technicolor, so bright and vivid. Your sense of taste, you could taste him on you from when he kissed you, it was a sweet and subtle taste. Your hearing, you could hear the clock ticking, you could hear the cars way below the tower and the birds calling and flying by, you could hear the way Steve moaned and huffed, it sounded like he was in your head, it was all overwhelming you. 
Steve pulled out and flipped you over on your back again, reentering you and you scratched down his back.
“H-hurt m-me, Daddy. I need I-it, I need it t-to let go,” you gasped and your eyes were having a hard time staying open, “Please!,”
Steve knew you were under a lot of stress right now so he half expected you to ask for that. He took a moment to pull back and asked you what color you were at, “G-g-gold,” Gold meant great and go ahead but he was still cautious. When you wrapped your legs around him he went harder and started biting along your neck and chest giving your nipples harsh nips. You begged him to slap you a few good times and he did just that. Cause your face to heat up from the contact. The sounds of him smacking you were like ad libs to the beat of the song that was your ass getting clapped by him, with your moans and his grunts as the the guitar riffs and the emotion behind it all being the meaning of the song itself. It was beautiful.
“F-fuck me harder, please! I won’t be a brat anymore I pr-promise, Daddy! I won’t be bad, I don’t wanna be bad!,” you sobbed into his shoulder and he went as hard as he could, chasing his own orgasm. Your vulnerability becoming his strength as he fucked little squeals out of you. You bit into his shoulder and softly mewled. All the endorphins rushed through your body like a stampede and you felt Steve getting ready to cum.
“Cum in m-me, Daddy. I n-need it,” you weren’t exactly thinking rationally but you were begging and you really wanted it. Subspace or not, you wanted him to cum deep in you and Steve knew if he did, he’d had to ask Bruce on where to get emergency contraceptive but he wasn’t gonna slow down his momentum with that thought.
“Fuck, baby. Y-you feel so good around Daddy’s cock like that. Taking me so well, so good. You’ve proven to daddy you’re not a bad girl, fuck!,” he threw his head back as he came and that’s when it hit you.
Your entire resolve came down and you hit the depths on your headspace and you were cumming endlessly, calling out for Steve and digging your nails into his arms.
“I don’t wanna be bad, Daddy! I promise I won’t be bad anymore! Please let me c-cum,” you were rambling as you hit the highest peak of all peaks. You were so dazed, you were still fucking yourself against him and whining out. “Did I make you happy, Daddy?, I won’t be a brat anymore. D-don’t wanna disappoint you,” you cried and you had Steve confused.
“You didn’t disappoint me, baby. Daddy just wanted you to take a break to take care of yourself,”
You just continued to hold him tight and cry.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you repeated, still rutting up against him, causing Steve to release his own whines from sensitivity
“Slow down, baby. Slow down,” Steve pulled back and held your wet face in his hands, “Calm down baby,”
“I won’t be a brat anymore... I- I just... it all has been hard and I..,”
“Baby,” he cooed, “Slow down. It is okay. Daddy is here to take all those thoughts away. I’m gonna pull out now, okay?,”
“Nooo!,” you wrapped your legs tighter around his waist, “Just wanna feel you. Need to feel you,” you whispered.
He whispered loving words to calm you down, kissing down your neck and along your cheeks, he ran his hands along your body to soothe you as you just kept apologizing.
“You’re the best baby girl I could ever ask for. You didn’t disappoint Daddy, there’s no need to apologize. You made me very proud. You work so hard and I’m proud of you. Just promise me you’ll take breaks so you don’t break down like this okay?,” he kissed your nose as you had your eyes closed, softly rolling your head side to side.
“I promise and I promise I won’t be bratty anymore,” you pouted and he softly smiled, kissing your cute little pout.
“You’re fine, Y/N. I’ve got you, don’t worry. Just melt into Daddy. Trust me,”
You sighed and felt all your problems melt away as he continued to whisper in your ear. “I’m so lucky to have you as mine. So glad I’m your Daddy. You make me feel so many good things, I can’t thank you enough for being my good girl,”
You whimper at his words and raise up on your elbows, opening your eyes to find him staring intensely back at you. He looked so worried but so content at the same time.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” He pulled out of you and the wet sounds filled the room. You softly groan as he does so and he just shushes you as he picks you up.
“FRIDAY, run the bathwater, please. Not too hot though,”
“Of course, Captain,”
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“Looving you, has made my life so beautiful,” Steve softly sung to you as you slowly drank from your water bottle, “And everyday of my liiife, is filled with looving you. La la la la la,”
“La la la la la,” you joined him as he washed your back, “La la la la la, la la la laaa,”
“Duuun-duun du duu,” he continued, “Hit it,” he smiled
“Aaaaaahhh,” you finished with the high pitched squeal and he laughed at you, ringing the water of the wash cloth down your back.
“Thank you, Steve,” your voice was low but you used his real name to let him know you were back in the real world and no longer in your headspace.
“It’s nice to have you back,” Steve laughed. He pulled you up into his chest to kiss your shoulder, “How are you feeling?,”
“Relieved. Tension free. I’m sorry I’ve been so bratty. This is still new to me and I just-,”
“Baby, you don’t have to apologize for reacting like a normal human being and cracking under pressure. But your brattiness is something we will work on regardless,” He finished cleaning you up all over as you finished your snack of gummies and then you helped him wash himself with his own wash cloth.. 
Once the bubbles are off of you both, he drains the water and helps you stand up to dry you off. He swaddles you like a baby after wrapping his own towel around himself, once your teeth are brushed and your face is wash, he carries you into your room and softly placing you on the bed. He grabs your Johnson’s bedtime lotion and starts at your feet and moving his way up, working the lotion into your skin. He’s come to find out that this helps you after an intense scene in the bedroom and he’ll pull every stop to make sure you feel better and cared for. That is his priority.
 He goes into your closet and finds a sweatshirt of his (that he had been looking for), takes it off the hanger and moves back to you to help you put it on. He helps you wrap your hair (courtesy to you spending a whole free day to teach him how to properly do it) and placed your bonnet on before getting himself ready to crawl in the bed beside you. 
He had changed the sheets and covers so they had a fresh and clean lavender smell to them. He pulled you close to him and kissed your cheeks over and over until it elicited a laugh out of you.
“I am so lucky,” he smiled.
“No, I am,” you held his head and rubbed his scalp knowing it was his turn for aftercare. It’s not just the sub that needs aftercare, it’s the Dom as well as scenes take just as much out of them.
“You take such good care of me and I’m so thankful,” you kiss him between his eyebrows and you see his face heat up in a blush, “You’re the best Daddy anyone can ask for. I’m never letting you go,”
His smiled beamed at you as he kissed you one more time, “You’re stuck with me, baby doll,”
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I hope this lived up to y’alls expectations. I know it’s not as dirty as part one but, there’s so much more dirty smut that’ll come out me very soon, so stay tuned.
If you like this, please leave verbal feedback and reblog!
Tags- @noire-griot @mbaku-babygirl @blackreaders-assemble @vozit @babybubastis @chonisberonica @majikmelanin @blowmymbackout @justsomemarvelspam @whothehellisbinky @joyofbebbanburg @spideys-wife @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @crawlingnightmares @amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes @yournonlocalpoc @mirajanestrauss1999 @fromlia-withlove @mokacoconut @curlyhairclub @livayah 
2K notes · View notes
elliemarchetti · 5 years ago
Text
Holiday Inconveniences (part 3)
Part 1
Part 2
Other Red Queen fics:
A Wonderful Mistake (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)
The Scam (part 2)
A Red Lover
Red Queen Soulmate AU (Mare) Part 2 (Diana and Shade) Part 3 (Diana) Part 4 (Shade)
A Rebel’s Song (part 2)
The Epilogue
A Different POV
Warning: Mature content? It’s just a passionate and half naked kiss
Words: 1366
Cal squeezed her shoulders and very slowly leaned in for a kiss. Mare let him do it, grateful that she wasn't the only one who felt so relentlessly attracted. Furthermore, there couldn’t have been a better ending: they had eaten, chatted, drank and danced uncoordinated to the beat of old rock songs all afternoon. If it had been a date, Mare would’ve called it perfect. Like a little girl, she melted in contact with his lips, until her breath began to accelerate and her heart beat so fast that she feared that Cal, that pressed his hips against hers, could hear it.
"Now things are complicated." he whispered on her mouth, parting just enough to speak, then returning to suck her lower lip. Too intoxicated by the sensation, and probably also by the alcohol, Mare didn’t ask herself what that phrase meant, imputing it to the excitement of the moment, and continued to kiss him, clinging to his neck just as she had done the previous evening. They landed on the couch, she astride him. This time she undressed herself, getting rid of her sweater and shirt with deliberate slowness, without ever interrupting eye contact. It was obvious that he liked it while he watched her almost with adoration.
"I didn't notice the tattoo last night." he commented, glancing at the little M in italics she had on her left side, on the ribcage. It had been an error, a slightly over-insistent ex-boyfriend who had convinced her that it wouldn't have been a bad idea if they had tattooed each other's initial, in short, as a sign of true love and belonging, a first step before marriage. Within a short time the person she had thought she knew showed his true colors and Mare left him but never removed the tattoo, partly because no one would’ve doubted her explanation, that it was her name’s initial, the stupid and self-centered gesture of a rebellious young girl, partly as a warning not to fall again into that kind of traps. Anyway, Mare ignored the comment and took off his shirt with a fluid movement, feeling his warm body against hers. As soon as their tongues met again, she stroked his smooth skin and he too began to explore her body more calmly than the previous evening, delicate but firm, until he reached the breast, which made her throw her head back in excitement. After a couple of failed attempts to unfasten her jeans, Cal muttered something incomprehensible and stood up, clutching her legs tightly around his waist, probably headed towards the bedroom. At that point she heard, muffled but definitely recognizable, the sound of keys being inserted into the lock.
"Don't you live alone?" she asked, partly worried, partly frustrated by the interruption.
"I’ve never said that." he replied, standing up and quickly trying to compose himself.
"Do you have a girlfriend? Oh please tell me your girlfriend isn’t coming in..." she began, sitting up and desperately looking for something to cover her naked breast with, when she was interrupted by a decidedly familiar male voice. What was her history professor doing in that house?
 Cal thought desperately of the disaster they had left in the living room. Obviously his uncle would’ve immediately understood what had happened, but he doubted that he could’ve imagined that the girl in question was still at home, half naked in his bed.
"Please tell me you're not Professor Jacos’ son." whispered Mare, attracting his attention.
"I'm his nephew, but please tell me you're not still his student.”
A guilty smirk appeared on her face, and he wanted to slam his head against the nearest wall, if only it hadn't attracted further attention.
"At least are you of age or have I just kissed a child?" he asked her, while a wave of panic hit him with the force of the storm that was raging outside. First of all, he hadn’t only kissed her and secondly what would his uncle think when he’ll see her? Because surely he would’ve seen her: there was only one exit and the only way they could’ve been saved from that hitch would’ve been if he had shut himself up in his study, which he probably wouldn't have done before dinner, before which he would’ve surely take a shower, which meant he would enter the room they were in at the time.
"Why? How old are you?" she asked, too loud for his taste. It was already embarrassing enough, but if his uncle knew that this wasn’t his girlfriend he had never told him about but the first girl he had managed to take home from the bar, it would’ve been worse. As if Carmadon wouldn't have told him everything once Julian had set foot in the bar. But that was a secondary problem, which they could’ve faced later; for now the key thing was to get out of there, put Mare back on track and take her home.
"You know what,” he began with his strategizing tone, which he only sported when he had a plan “ it doesn't matter. Now we have to get out of here in a hurry but without making any noise and getting into my room, where we’ll find a way to make ourselves presentable, do you understand?"
"I won't do the walk the shame in front of my history professor!" she exclaimed, trying not to be heard.
"Now you will come out of here, or my uncle will not only see you do the walk the shame but he will also see you half naked!" he replied, lifting her in his arms, despite the girl was trying desperately to squirm. Although she stirred like an eel and was of no help in his mission, Cal managed to open the door a couple of inches but Mare closed it with her foot.
"At least give me a shirt. I don't want to have to change colleges because my professor saw my tits." she implored him, and to some extent Cal could also understand, if only they hadn't been in his uncle's room and there were no T-shirts that didn't belong to him. But exceptional situations calls for exceptional measures, so he extracted from one of the drawers he knew his uncle used less than an old black t-shirt, looking rather anonymous, that he had never seen on him and threw it to Mare, who caught it and wore it with impressive speed. So, after all, despite her forced nonchalance, she was also embarrassed. Or was it because she believed he was incredibly older than her? They probably only had a few years of difference, but given the conversation they had just had...
"Listen, about what we said..." he began, but she silenced him, watching intently from a tiny opening of the door. Even Cal leaned over to see and saw his uncle picking up the things left on the floor and the contents of the bowls that had spilled onto the couch. He didn't seem particularly bothered and probably was more amused than he wanted to admit to the idea of ​​being able to interrogate him once he disclosed himself in his presence.
"He looks like a nice guy." Mare commented, but before Cal could answer, as soon as the man disappeared into the kitchen, the girl opened the door and slipped into the next room, in which Cal knew a bomb seemed to have just exploded: there were all sorts of clothes scattered everywhere and even a small board with an iron on it, with which he had tried to stretch the collar of the various shirts he intended to took with him on his visit to his father. Furthermore, the desk was completely covered with books, notebooks filled with notes and drawings, many of which he wasn’t very proud of.
"So you are human too." commented Mare, looking around and once she was satisfied with the visual tour of his interests and clothes she turned to him. "So I’m going from being trapped in the house to being trapped in the room?" she asked.
"Only until he goes to shower." he replied. "Then you’ll have ten minutes to go out."
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roseamongroses · 5 years ago
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W.A.L: “Never Gonna Get it “(9)
Summary:It wasn’t a matter of whether or not they were worthy.It was a matter of who wanted it more. And now they were firmly on the wrong side of history. A history of unfathomable powers and all-knowing immortals, ancient forests and beasts, and a Stranger who wanted to challenge it all.
Vibes/ Tags:time is irrelevent, homophobia who?, magic and beasts, demigods
Warnings: Imprisonment, Mentions of execution, Blood/ injuries,  Mentions of past Death, repression, cursing,
Characters: Deceit(Eden) Sanders, Remy Sanders, Logan Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Patton Sanders, Roman Sanders, Emile Picani
Ship: Roceit
1) (2)   (3)  (4) (5)
(6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11)
---
A file slid across the table. 
Emile didn’t look up, his chair squeaking as he shifted one leg over another,   “Logan, you heard what I said, you won’t be on any field missi--”
“Until Patton recovers?” Logan finished, “His physical therapy’s been going well and he’s passed his mental health assessment.” He stood, hands clasped and stance unwavering, so much so you could hardly notice the bags under his eyes. 
Emile thumbed the pages, but didn’t open the file yet, “What about your mental health assessment?” He asked, and Logan grew still, “Ms. Dana mentioned it had been awhile since you’ve scheduled an appointment...”
“I got busy,” Logan’s lips were tight. 
“Don’t worry, I’m not scolding, only being a bit of a worry wart,” Emile poured more honey into his tea, stirring methodically, “I know it isn’t required of all apprentices, but it is recommended to help with the stress. Especially with offerings coming up…” 
“I’m fine, now.” Logan muttered, “I overreacted before. “
“Having any feelings is not an overreaction,” Emile sighed, setting down his tea cup, before flipping through the file, his face growing more grim, “This plan isn’t your best, Logan. ” he said, “But...it isn’t your worst.”
Logan nodded, “My brother is still suspected to have stronger sensory capabilities then we have on record,” he pulled out his notebook and continue  to list, “And there's always a risk that the Unknown has sensory based magic as well, or worse, strong combative magic.” 
“Yes, and…?”
“There is a strong chance,” Logan flipped a page, “A possibility,” he squinted at the blurred ink, “That Roman might drop a mountain on our heads.” 
“Can you make it so there’s no possibility?”
Logan shrugged, “I’ll make some adjustments,”
---
A Complete History of Creatures, Beasts, And Others Blessed by the Goddess
1001 Theories On Why The Goddess Continues to Sleep: Will We Ever Repent?
Where was the Goddess's Actual Last Resting Place: A Five Part Analysis
Dirty, Musty, Dusty Languages For Absolute Buffoons (Yes You!!!)
These among numerous others, were assigned by the Stranger, in between the strenuous exercises and questionable lectures of life advice --- which often approximated to “Repress that shit.” Which, to be fair Eden was trying. 
Dot was more useful than the Stranger, but she was useful in a kind, approachable way that made Eden uncomfortable. Maybe he was waiting for the catch. 
Still, she explained everything, showing them around the village and introducing Aleseners customs to with an almost analytical pride. She ensured the Stranger didn’t work them into an early fucking death, but she was still… odd with anything too human. As in, she knew more than any other Alesener about human customs, but most of what she knew lacked context, as if they were merely a fascinating fantasy. 
All of it was odd, to be completely honest, but as their time in the Aleseners’ village progressed, it became the new normal. Magical exercises in the mornings, creature handling in the evenings, and studying through most of the night. 
Right about now, Eden was trying not to pull out his hair. 
In front of him were strewn various guides about controlling magic, all of which were largely unhelpful for shapeshifting. Sure, he could now blend into his environment, but now he had to learn how to become other people. Which was hard. Really, really hard. 
“What about this?” Roman said, rolling over to  show a particularly dusty book. The book read: “Creatures Dead and Dying: A Complete, Extensive Report.”
“Very funny,” Eden rolled his eyes, idly scanning the pages in front of him. 
“No-nuno-Really, look!” Roman whined, shoving the book on Eden’s lap before he could protest, “Look right here,”
“That’s what you said last--” Eden took a second look, “Huh, that actually might be useful.” he admitted, reading the page more thoroughly, “The hell…”
The page detailed an old type of magic folk, Unnamed, known for their camouflage, reptilian traits, and tendency to congregate near humans. Most of them were largely driven out or killed… There are no known records of them currently living-- the Council decred them dead centuries ago-- but there are plenty of theories about how they honed their craft. 
“Find anything useful?” Roman asked leaning on Eden’s shoulder and squinting at the tiny text and darkly stained photos. 
“Some first hand accounts and…” Eden blushed, “Uh a lot about sex.” he mumbled flipping through the accounts faster,  “A ridicolous amount about sex--what the hell--” he fought through his embaressment and read through the pages again ,“Oh.”
“So you are getting a hemipe-”
Eden held up a hand, “Absolutely not, ” he shushed, still engrossed in the book.
“So you need to get laid?” R
oman said, “Is that it?”
 “For someone so modest, you’re filthy.” Eden batted Roman’s prodding hands away. 
“I’m not--it was a genuine question,” Roman’s pouted, “But what else does it say?” 
“I think...it’s an act of intimacy, cause there are some accounts talking about weddings and...funera--” Eden flipped that page abruptly, “I guess it’s easier to keep form if you know the person well, mentally, physically. Kinda like a memory, the stronger the memory is the better the shift.” Eden concluded, “Though I guess the more I do it, the less I’ll need to actually know.” 
“Oh, that’s all?” Roman said, “Do me, then.” 
“Again,  filthy,” Eden said as Roman scooted in front of him, “I’ll start with your face,” he continued hands cradling Roman’s lax face. 
He studied them, carefully tracing the dips of their face. The dimples in their cheeks, and the roundness of their nose. Eden felt his scales slowly but surely morph. Slowly, but surely he mimicked the wrinkles under Roman’s big, silver eyes and how their eyelashes fanned dark onto their cheeks. 
Roman leaned down a bit to give Eden a better look, nimble fingers digging into Eden’s shirt, legs pressed close. He was humming that lullaby. And Eden felt that song creep into the shift, softening too harsh lines, breathing life into the illusion. 
 Eden’s thumb swept the bottom of Roman’s lips, the melody warm under his hands. Roman warm under his hands, as he traced their lips, feeling the soft--
Eden’s breath hitched, and like that and the illusion was broken. 
“What happened?” Roman asked, half dazed.
“I got distracted.” he admitted. 
“What... were you distracted by?” 
“I don’t want to talk about it, “ Eden scowled, “Now stop fidgeting-- Roman,” Eden hissed -- like actually hissed -- as he caught Roman’s hands in his, while starting the process all over again. It seemed to calm Roman down a bit now that he had something to play with, but realistically Eden knew that it wouldn’t last for long so he worked quickly. 
This time it was a lot easier, but it was at such an ineffective pace he knew he’d have to get faster. He can’t do... this to every person he tries to mimic. Eden has a feeling they won’t be as willing as Roman. 
“I think,” Eden squinted,  “I’m done, how does it look?”
“Huh,’ Roman’s gaze was critical, “You’ve nearly got all my freckles.” 
“How would you even--Nearly?” Eden looked offended.
“I stare at myself a lot Eden,” Roman said sagely, “So I know when something’s off. I think you missed a few around my mouth and chin, but I doubt anyone else would notice.” 
“I would--” Eden grumbled, fighting the itch to go back and fix it--instead letting his face revert back. 
Roman rolled his eyes, “Ever the perfectionist,” he said, “What? Are you going to memorize every inch of my body--”
“Of course,” Eden said without missing a beat.
“I…” Roman gaped, wide eyed,“Are you serious?”
“Why…” Eden realized, his eyes narrowing with a calculated smile, “Why of course, I have to. It’s an intimate act, afterall Roman, what do you expect?” 
“W-well,” Roman couldn’t look away, “It doesn’t always have to be, right-”
“Maybe so, but,” Eden said, interlocking their hands with a bastard grin, “It’s my first time. I want it to be...perfect.” 
“I hate this, I hate  you,” Roman whined, rose buds popping up in his hair, “Go back to being grouchy--and broody, Goddess be damned.”  
“You’re still holding my hand,” Eden said pointedly.
“I can multitask.” 
---
The door was oddly foreboding. 
 It was a pristine, sterile white. Even in the hallway the distinct sting of clean was in Virgil’s nose and watering his eyes. Normally the medic bay was bustling with apprentices and careless mentors, but today it was quiet and the door was closed. The offerings and all that nonsense was getting prepped afterall. But instead of helping with preparations or even being on a mission, Virgil was here.
 He was trying to force words out of his dry throat, trying to work up the nerve to knock on the door and apologize. 
It wasn’t like he hadn’t had a chance before, these long weeks of watching Patton lay there. Simply lay there, his skin dull of any light and his eyes--when they finally opened-- weak and resigned. 
“You’re safe.” Was the only thing Patton had managed to say while being there. 
As if it was a miracle that Virgil was hardly scathed, as if Patton had not nearly been crushed to death getting Virgil out of the way. As if he hadn’t trusted every warning Virgil gave without hesitation —as if he hadn’t trusted Virgil without hesitation only to get suspicion in return. 
Virgil’s suspicion  was irrational—it was always irrational, but Virgil could never shake it. Even now, when Patton was basically out of commission, he felt dread coil tight in his gut at the thought of being friendly.
  Patton had basically saved his life, yet Virgil couldn’t trust him. Like how he could couldn’t fully trust Logan, like he could never fully trust Dr. Picani, like how he couldn’t trust himself when remembering that day. When the river ran cold between his finger tips, only the burning of the vial keeping him awake. 
Keeping him vigilant. 
Reminding him that while he got lucky that time there was always a chance he would come back—
He’s panicking. 
He needs to breathe. He’s in the medical wing, the obnoxiously white medical wing. He can taste clean on his tongue and most importantly he was safe. 
He can apologize. 
So he opened that white door, and was greeted with a white, empty bed. He didn’t even bother to read the note Logan had left behind. 
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lacylu42 · 6 years ago
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11/11/11 Tag Game
Thanks @feathersandfortunes​ for the tag!  I’m just getting into the writeblr community, but I’ll try to tag a few people at the bottom.  1. What’s a type of media that you think influenced your writing? Could be anything, from Marvel movies to Magical girl anime or a band or a podcast - anything! 
I did an exercise a while back that suggested listing your top 10 favorite stories — any media, books, movies, etc. — and then look at what they all have in common. And it’s fascinating! Some of my favorite stories of all time, including Harry Potter, X-Files, Hitchhiker’s Guide, Doctor Who, among others, include normal people doing and experiencing extraordinary things, going into extraordinary worlds. 
I know that being in fandom and writing fan fiction has also strongly influenced my writing. I didn’t know it when I was a kid, but my first forays into writing were all thinly veiled attempts to write like my favorite authors in exploration of finding my own voice. 
2. What does your OC do on a road trip or long commute? Playlists, podcasts, daydreaming, games, idk, up to you!
Oh lord!  I feel like Julia has done cross-country road trips before, so she would be all about stocking up on snacks, picking out the podcasts, and plotting out which ridiculous roadside attractions to stop at.
I think David would haaaaate a road trip to start with, like he would hate the very idea of it. He likes to be efficient, and I think he doesn’t like being stuck in small, confined spaces. He’s a walker, too. But I think he would enjoy the novelty of a road trip with Julia if he was forced into it. She would show him the weird pleasures of it.
3. How do you pick names for your characters? Meanings, sounds, anything!
This book in particular was a weird experience because it has a relatively large cast, and I was naming people on the fly while trying to bang out a couple thousand words a day. 
But I enjoyed trying to match the names of the Supernatural creatures with their country of origin (ie: Daoine the Irish banshee) but also playing against type for certain characters (ie: Greg the ogre). 
4. What’s a trope you hate from a genre you love?
Oh man! I love epic hero’s journey stories, but I’m kind of over the “chosen one” who has special powers to save the world. I’m much more interested in ordinary people thrown into extraordinary situations. 
5. Pick a trope you love from a genre you hate, what is it?
I’m not a big fan of straight romance or rom com, but I do looooove me some romance/rom com tropes like THERE’S ONLY ONE BED! (my fave), or friends to lovers, or any excuse to put my characters in fancy dress so they can oogle each other. :>
6. If you’re a fiction writer, what’s something you wish you could write that would be nonfiction (an important historical event, a celebrity’s memoir, idk)? If you’re nonfiction, what’s a fictional world you would live in?
I actually write both; I write fiction for fun and non-fiction in my business. But for this question, I’d love to write a really deeply researched non-fiction book about habits or lifestyle or something. 
OR maybe a cookbook... 
7. Do you like supernatural/magical/mythical creatures? What’s your favorite?
Love. My current WIP is all about supernatural creatures in the normal, modern world. I don’t think I have an all-time favorite, but from this book I love Greg the erudite ogre and Vincenzo, the vegan vampire. 
8. What’s a quote you would love to see on a movie poster or in a trailer for your wip?
Wow, this is hard... This probably wouldn’t fit on a poster, but I like this quote from the scene in which my two main characters meet for the first time: “I said, I’m not crazy,” Julia repeated.  “Obviously I wasn’t shot.  There’s no bullet wound.  So he must have missed.  But I swear to you, I saw the gun.  I heard it go off.  There was…” she faltered.  “I felt all this pain…”
“Yeah, you would,” the man said, pocketing his notebook and taking a few steps toward her bed.  He was wearing a long overcoat and a rumpled brown suit.  
“Then, you believe me?” She pushed herself up into a sitting position. 
“Wee-eelll, yes and no. I believe that you believe you were shot. But that’s not what happened.”
Julia shook her head.  “I saw the gun…”
“You saw a glamour. An illusion.  You saw what the spell caster wanted you to see.”
Julia blinked at him. “I’m sorry.  I thought you said ‘spell caster.’”
“You got hit by a curse, and apparently it’s given you what humans would call the sight. You can see the supernatural world. My world.”  He scrubbed the back of his head with his hand, looking thoughtful.  “Though, whether or not the curse was actually meant for you is up for debate.  Do you know anyone who might have wanted to give you the sight? Anyone in your family make any deals with demons that you’re aware of? Have you ever been bitten by an imp?”
Julia stared at him for a long time.  “I think maybe you need the psych consult.”
He grinned crookedly at her. “Probably. But not about this.”
9. Where do you start when creating a character? Backstory, appearance, personality, etc?
I usually start a story with a scene or an idea — and the characters just start talking or acting. A lot of times the character just shows up and starts talking at me, and that’s where everything starts. I might have an idea of what they look like, but sometimes not. So I guess it starts with personality and how they act in a particular situation and grows from there. 
10. What’s a scent that makes your OC feel at home?
David’s father was a carpenter, and that was his first trade, so I think the smell of sawdust and cut wood would take him back.
Julia I think is starting to associate the smell of coffee with David, so maybe coffee... ;) 
11. Are there any scenes you’re secretly hoping get fanart in your wip or published work?
Oh my gosh! I would love to see people produce fanart of this book! I really want to see people’s interpretation of Greg the ogre in his police uniform!  Haha. But I’d also like to see this scene, with David and Julia sitting in the grass taking in everything going on in the park: “You sure know how to show a girl a good time,” Julia quipped as the alley turned a blind corner, but the words died on her lips.
It was a park, but not one she’d ever seen before. Hemmed in on all sides by skyscrapers, it wasn’t very big, but it was bursting with life. The sunlight seemed brighter here, even though by all rights the park should have been deep in shadow from the tall buildings all around.
The walls surrounding the park were painted with large and wonderful murals. In one, the seeds of a giant dandelion seemed to be perpetually floating off into the distance, twirling and flying in an imaginary breeze. As they walked past, one of the seeds morphed into a tiny pig that started squealing and chasing them. 
David caught Julia’s curious frown and laughed. “The graffiti artists sometimes enchant the graffiti to insult cops.”
Julia stared at him. “The painting knows you’re a cop?”
“Well, the spell does, anyway.”
[...]
Beings and creatures of all shapes and sizes were walking, sitting, talking, strolling through the park. An extremely tall, willowy woman with long brown hair filled with leaves was dancing slowly around the base of a tree. Little pixies, no more than 10 inches high, were buzzing around, laughing, playing, and shouting profanities at one another. A group of men and women who looked more or less human were sitting in a circle in the sun, chanting, as a strange symbol burned in the air in the middle. She felt like her eyes couldn’t quite take it all in. 
“This is…” she whispered.
“Yeah,” David replied with a smile.  He led her over to an unoccupied patch of grass where he took off his overcoat and spread it on the ground for them to sit on. “I wanted you to see that it’s not all snarling demons and manipulative witches. There’s a lot of wonder in the supernatural world, too. A lot of good.” 
Thank you again for tagging me!
The rules are 11 questions answered, 11 questions given, and 11 people tagged! As I said, I’m new to the #writeblr community, but I’ll tag @copperbadge, @brynwrites, @theticklishpear, @lvslie, and @licieoic if you want to play!
1. Have you had to “kill any darlings” from your current WIP, ie: quotes, characters, scenes, etc. that you LOVE but don’t fit and have to be cut? Please share.
2. What is your favorite genre to write in and why? Is it different from the genres you like to consume?
3. Do you consciously study existing works by other authors to improve your own writing? If so, what types of things do you look at?
4. Have you noticed any patterns in your own writing, ie: you always have a certain type of character, like to explore a certain type of story, etc.?
5. Do you do most of your world building before you write, while writing the first draft, or during revisions? 
6. If when your WIP hits the bestseller list, where would you like to go or what would you like to do on a book tour? Is there somebody you’d like to be interviewed by? 
7. How do you approach setting the scene in your work? Are you into lush descriptions or giving the bare minimum and allowing the reader to fill in the blanks?
8. Do you follow a set structure (ie: hero’s journey, 3-act structure) when plotting out your works, or fly by the seat of your pants?
9. What does your revision process look like?
10. Please share a bit of dialogue from your WIP that shows us something important about the character’s personality.
11. Please share any jokes or funny bits from your WIP of which you are ridiculously proud. ;) 
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imjustthemechanic · 6 years ago
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Natalie Jones and the Golden Ship
Part 1/? - A Meeting at the Palace Part 2/? - Curry Talk Part 3/? - Princess Sitamun Part 4/? - Not At Rest Part 5/? - Dead Men Tell no Tales Part 6/? - Sitamun Rises Again Part 7/? - The Curse of Madame Desrosiers Part 8/? - Sabotage at Guedelon Part 9/? - A Miracle Part 10/? - Desrosiers’ Elixir Part 11/? - Athens in October Part 12/? - The Man in Black Part 13/? - Mr. Neustadt Part 14/? - The Other Side of the Story Part 15/? - A Favour Part 16/? - A Knock on the Window Part 17/? - Sir Stephen and Buckeye Part 18/? - Books of Alchemy Part 19/? - The Answers Part 20/? - A Gift Left Behind Part 21/? - Santorini Part 22/? - What the Doves Found Part 23/? - A Thief in the Night Part 24/? - Healing Part 25/? - Newton’s Code Part 26/? - Montenegro
Look who’s back!
The town of Kotor in Montenegro didn’t have many claims to fame.  It had been reasonably important under the Venetian empire, but those days were long gone, and it was only just starting to find new life as a tourist attraction.  In many ways it was the exact opposite of Santorini, which had been whitewashed villages clinging precariously to the edges of cliffs, with no trees.  Kotor was dark stone and brick clustered at the bottom of a deep, fjord-like valley full of foliage.  It was much more sheltered and cool than Santorini, and Natasha decided she would rather have spent a weekend here than on that barren volcanic island.
When they arrived, there was a cruise ship anchored in the bay.
“Wouldn’t it be funny if that were the same boat we saw at Santorini?” asked Clint.
Nat shielded her eyes from the low morning sun and squinted to see the image on the ship’s superstructure.  “I think it is,” she said.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”  As the sun went behind a cloud for a moment, the light changed and Nat was able to make out the circular logo.  “There it is – Zodiac Cruise Lines, the Scorpio II.  Same as in Santorini.”
“That’s… actually not funny at all,” Clint decided.  “Think how much more fun we’d be having on our little tour of the Balkans if we were on a cruise ship!
“You’d have a way better selection of wines,” said Nat.
“Air conditioning,” Sam agreed.
“Lobsters to race,” said Jim.
“We’d have a way more expensive selection of wines,” Clint corrected.  “Santorini was expensive enough.  Speaking of which…”  He checked his phone.  “Laura says if I’m in Kotor I need to find her some smoked ham.  Apparently that’s a thing.”
“All right,” said Nat.  “We’ll save the world.  You can shop for souvenirs.”
“I’m glad you guys trust me with the important stuff,” said Clint.
Before they did anything out, they found a room at the Hotel Vadar, just a moment’s walk from the gate in the old Venetian city walls.  The hotel only had one available, due to a last-minute cancellation, and it only had one bed, but they would make do.  It would definitely be better than camping out in a construction site on Santorini, or rock-hard mattresses on the creaking cargo boat.
If Neustadt had told them to go to Kotor as part of a trap, then it probably wouldn’t have mattered if they’d all stopped to take a nap first – a mousetrap wouldn’t spring until something touched the cheese.  After their encounter with the thief on Santorini, however, they were worried that the alchemist might have decided to take matters into their own hands.  On that assumption, they ate a quick lunch and set out for the monastery at once.
The Church and Monastery of the Holy Dove were outside the northwest corner of the town, a short but arduous hike up a very steep path on the mountainside.  There were Catholic churches in Montenegro, but this one was Eastern Orthodox, identified by its domed roof and a steeple with three bells, one each for Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  The Square of the Holy Dove outside was thronged with tourists and with vendors selling trinkets to them.  On the left side of the church steps was a man selling books of local history in several languages, and on the right were a pair of sisters busking, one with a guitar and the other singing English pop songs.  Stray cats and dark-coloured pigeons ran around underfoot.
Trailing behind a tour group from the cruise ship, they climbed the steps to the church and went inside.  The interior was unusually bare by Orthodox standards, which had inherited the Byzantine preference for colourful murals with lots of gold.  The Holy Dove had once been decorated that way, but the plaster had fallen off the walls in an earthquake in the 1960’s, and since there was little hope of recreating the paintings in their former splendor, the walls had simply been left as bare red limestone.  Only a few fragments of the paintings remained, and a corkboard displaying carefully colourized old photographs to suggest what it had once looked like.  The austerity had the effect of making the wall of icons at the far end stand out all the more, their gilded surfaces glittering in the shafts of light from the high windows.
A monk was busy re-lighting candles in front of these holy pictures, murmuring a prayer as he did each one.  Tourists were taking flash pictures of this, despite posted signs warning that the light might damage the remaining murals.  The group respectfully waited until he was finished before approaching him.
“Excuse me,” said Nat.  “Do you speak English?”
“Some,” the monk replied.  “Do you have questions about the church?”  He must be used to being approached by strangers.
“No,” said Natasha.  “We’re here to see Brother Luka.”
The young monk went a little pale.  “What do you want with Brother Luka?” he asked.
This was not going to go well, Nat could already tell.  “He has something a man named Neustadt needs,” she said.  “He was supposed to send it to him?”
“Wait here,” said the young monk.
He vanished through the back door of the church, leaving them to wait there a while and contemplate the crumbling paintings that remained on the insides of some of the supporting arches.  These were mainly the faces of saints, with their names in Greek lettering next to them.  By one was a man on a ladder, using some sort of glue to stabilize a bit that was about to fall apart.
The young monk returned, accompanied by the Abbot.  This man was also younger than Nat would have pictured a monk, which she tended to think of as a bunch of old men clinging to a dying institution.  He was no older than fifty, and clean-shaved, with a jowly face and a strong Eastern European nose.  His expression was worried.
“Good morning,” he said to them.  “I am Father Slavko of the Brothers of the Holy Dove.”
“Good morning,” Nat replied, and for the sake of looking legitimate, she pulled out her badge.  “I’m Dr. Natalie Jones, of the Committee for the Appraisal of Archaeological Peril.  We were told to come here and see Brother Luka.  The man we spoke to didn’t give us much information.”
“You are the second group of people in as many days who have come for Brother Luka,” said the Abbot, and Nat’s heart sank – Neustadt must have already been here.  “A man in a hat came yesterday morning and the two argued.  The visitor left angry, and Brother Luka took ill shortly afterwards.  He’s now in the hospital in Meljine.  The doctors said it was a stroke.”
Something Neustadt had done on purpose, Nat wondered, or just an old man who’d gotten too angry for his own good?  “What did they talk about?” she asked.
“I did not hear,” said the Abbot.  “It was not my business.”
“Excuse me,” the younger monk said, “I did hear.  They spoke about Aleksio the Heretic.”
Aleksio.  That was the name from Newton’s notebooks, the one who said The Principle was in the monastery.  “Who is Aleksio the Heretic?” she asked.
The Abbot looked over his shoulder at the crowded church and the tourists with their cameras, then moved closer to the group.  “Come with me,” he said.
He led them out of the church by the back door, an ornately carved wooden one with big iron hinges that must have been centuries old, and into the area where the monks lived.  Outside of the parts open to the public, the monastery was sparingly decorated and without electric lights.  The Abbot stopped by a small table and took a flashlight out of a drawer, then produced an immense iron key and unlocked another door, which looked like it might lead to a medieval torture chamber – although the taller members of the CAAP had to duck to go through it, it was made of planks six inches thick, reinforced with heavy iron bands and nails like railroad spikes.  When the Abbot opened the door, Nat could see that the nails were so long they went all the way through and protruded a few inches from the back, where they’d been hammered to the side to lie flat.
A very narrow flight of stone steps spiraled down into the darkness.
“Be careful,” said the Abbot.  “They are often wet.”
Down they went, in single file.  Sir Stephen and Sam, who were both very tall men, had to stoop.  Jim bent at the knees, walking like the Missing Link, and Allen hugged his own shoulders, trying to keep from filling the entire space.  Only Nat, the shortest, was able to stand up straight.  Anybody wishing to go back up would probably have had to go backwards, and anybody behind him or her would have had to turn back, also.
At the bottom was an equally narrow corridor.  It went a short way to another door, which the Abbot opened with a different key.  The rusted hinges squealed as they moved, thunderously loud in the tiny, quiet space.  Beyond was an underground chamber.  A little bit of light and a slight draft came in through a set of tiny grates in the floor of the church overhead.  Shadows passed by as the tourists wandered around.  At the far end of the room was a table, with a little sandbox in which several candles had been set upright to burn, and an ornamental reliquary.  In front of the table another monk was kneeling.  He’d looked up at the sound of the hinges moving, but saw it was the Abbot, and returned to his silent praying.
“Have you heard of the Cathars?” asked the Abbot.
“They were a heretical group during the Middle Ages,” Natasha replied.  “They believed that God and the Devil were equal in power, and the Earth was their battleground.  Was Aleksio the Heretic a Cathar?”
“No,” said the Abbot.  “His was a much more poisonous idea.  He believed that the Devil could not truly be evil, because all the evil he does is in the service of God’s plan.  He reasoned that evil would not exist unless God allowed it, and therefore evil can serve good purposes – he thought that Judas would go to Heaven for making Christ’s sacrifice possible, and that the Anti-Christ would be as divine as Christ himself.”
Nat had been hoping for something a little more alchemical.  As far as she could tell, this was just theological semantics, and seemed irrelevant.  “Neustadt said he had something called the Principle.”
The Abbot nodded.  “That is in here.  It’s our most holy relic.”
“So why is it hidden away, and not in a place where souls may benefit by it?” asked Sir Stephen.
“For a long time it was because of the Crusaders,” the Abbot said.  “It was the sort of treasure they would stop at nothing to possess, and so we pretended it was only a myth.  After centuries of that it was almost forgotten.  Then we had to hide it away from the heathen Turks, who would have destroyed it if they’d found it – and then there was Aleksio, who said that the Antichrist would come for it on the day of judgment.”  He looked up at the ceiling as another tourist’s shadow passed over it.  “And don’t think I haven’t wondered if the man in the hat were he.”
“He’s not the Antichrist, he’s an alchemist,” said Natasha.  Although she supposed it was possible that Aleksio had thought Newton was the Antichrist… in which case, in a mind that believed everything served God’s plan, Newton might actually be the good guy.  “Is it gold?”
“No,” said the Abbot.  “It is something infinitely more valuable than that.”
He touched the praying monk’s shoulder, and the man got up and stood aside.  The Abbot took a chain from around his own neck and removed a small, tarnished key from it, and unlocked the reliquary on the table.
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felixthekoala · 7 years ago
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Late Night
Group: Stray Kids
Pairing: ChanxReader
Genre: Fluff
Request:  Scenario for stray kids!! Sooo Changbin is writing new music and he needed a break so he goes to one of his closest friends. And he brings 3Racha along and chan ends up falling in love with that friend cause she can compose music too and he’s just amazed by her character and stuff 
a/n:  this was such a cute request omg! I hope you like it, most of it was written late at night while procrastinating when I should’ve been doing homework, so hopefully there aren’t too many grammatical errors XD
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  Your phone buzzed, the blue light illuminating your room. Checking your clock, you groaned as you saw the time: 2:00 am. You rolled over and checked the message.
<Hey, (y/n), could I come over? I have major writers block and we have a deadline for the new 3racha song.>
CHANGBIN! That little brat was going to get it. Didn’t he know what time it is?! But, since he was one of your closest friends and you knew how hard it was to compose songs on a deadline, you couldn’t say no. Sighing, you typed up a response and hit send.
<Fine, but don’t expect me to change out of PJs.> You were comfortable in your flannel pants and tank top, and it was just Changbin after all.  He replied instantly.
<Thankyouthankyouthankyou> You rolled your eyes. He was such a dork but you loved him for it.
Ten minutes later, a knock sounded at the door and you trudged over to answer it. As you opened the door, you started to nag him.
“God, Changbin, you have a key! Why are you making me walk all this way-” you froze when you saw he was not alone. “Oh.  Um, hi.”
“(y/n)? These are the other two members of 3racha, Chan and Jisung. We were all working together on the song, so I thought it was only fair they come along too,” Changbin explained, his eyes pleading for you to accept it.
“Oh, nice to meet you. Come on in.” You invited them in, making sure to send Changbin a glare to end all glares. You grabbed his arm and yanked so his ear was in inch from your face.
“You didn’t give me any warning! I’m in my freaking pajamas, and these strangers are here! This does not qualify as a good impression!” you hissed at him, smacking his shoulder as he began to chuckle.
“Sorry, (y/n), honestly I forgot to warn you.”
“Yeah, sure,” you said sarcastically.  You saw them head over to the living room and sighed.  “Whatever, let’s just finish this song so I can go back to sleep.” You both made your way to the living room, where Chan and Jisung had already sat down and taken out their computers and notebooks.
“Thank you so much for helping us, especially at this time of night. I know it’s not ideal,” Chan thanked you, and you couldn’t help but smile. At least he was sweet about it.
“Well I can’t refuse to help Changbin, especially because he always needs help,” you smirked at him, and he feigned offence.
“Excuse me?! Okay, I’ll admit, you’re a better composer than any of us here, but I don’t always need help.”
“Mmmhmm.” You turned to Chan. “So what do you guys have so far?” He opened up his computer and Jisung took out his notebook, opening it to a page with lyrics scribbled all over.
“We wanted to make a song about our friendship, and how we’re more like family than coworkers or friends,” Chan explained. “We have the chorus and verses completed except for the final verse, but it just doesn’t sound as strong or as powerful as we want it to.” You nodded, sitting in the open spot between Chan and Jisung to read the lyrics from Jisung’s notebook. Changbin leaned on the armrest next to Chan.
“Can I hear what you have?” Chan pressed play on the computer, and you listened intently, marking notes on the lyrics as the song progressed. You had to admit, they were amazing at what they did. Chan’s vocals were no joke, and all of them spit fire in their raps. When it finally finished, the notebook was filled with tiny notes in red ink, only half of them critical.
“So… what do you think?” Chan asked.
“It’s a really powerful song. I think it’ll definitely move the crowd, especially after a few revisions. I love how you started with the cello and then brought in the percussion and other instruments, and for the most part your lyrics are really good. I’d recommend changing it to A minor as opposed to C here.” you gestured in the notebook, and Chan played the chords for that line with your revision, resulting in a chorus of ‘oohhhs’. You proceeded to give them slight revisions to the lyrics, and after about an hour you were halfway done with composing the final verse and needed a break.
“I’m going to go get some coffee, would anyone like to join me?” You asked. Changbin and Jisung were completely focused on brainstorming lyrics for the final verse, but Chan stood up.
“I’ll go, my legs could use a little stretching out.”
It had taken longer than you expected to find a place selling coffee at that hour, but you eventually found a bakery that opened early. Chan had chatted with you the entire way, which made it much more enjoyable.  Talking to him was easy. You found yourself opening up about your history with music, how you’ve always wanted to be a composer and singer but you were always too scared, especially of who you’d become if you became an idol. Chan just nodded and replied with thoughtful responses the entire time, never judging you.
“You’re a really good composer, you know,” he blurted from the silence as you were walking back. “I wouldn’t mind working with you to compose more of our songs. And not just 3racha, but our whole group, Stray Kids, as well.”
“Please don’t just offer me an opportunity because I’m Changbin’s friend or because you feel bad for me. I want to actually make it because I am capable, not because of connections.”
“I totally understand that, but this isn’t charity or anything. Changbin’s right, you’re a better composer than all of us, and I know all of us would love to have you helping us more often.”
“Really?”
“Really. You’re amazing, (y/n).” You made the mistake of looking into his eyes as he said it, and instantly found yourself caught in his gaze like a deer trapped in headlights. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t do anything but stare into his eyes. The two of you stayed there, standing in the middle of the sidewalk at 3:30am, staring into each other’s eyes for what felt like forever. Finally, you found it in yourself to look away, blushing the entire time.
“We should probably get back, Changbin and Jisung must be wondering where we are,” you said, turning to walk again.
“Oh, uh, yeah.” Chan cleared his throat and followed.
“Where have you guys been?! Do you know what time it is?!” Changbin exclaimed when you got back.
“Oh, chill, Mom, it took us a while to find a place that sold coffee at 3:00am,” you replied, rolling your eyes.
“Well while you guys were busy doing who-knows-what-”
“Finding a coffee shop.”
“Whatever. While you guys were busy, we finished writing the final verse. Do you guys want to hear it or are you too busy drinking your coffee?”
“Dude, chill, of course we want to hear it,” Chan reassured him, and you all made your way back to the living room.
After another half an hour, you finally had a finished song, with only a few revisions to Changbin and Jisung’s lyrics in the final verse. Somehow, they managed to rope you into helping them record the demo, and by time you had finished, it was 5:00am.
“I thought we’d never finish!” Jisung exclaimed, beaming. You all felt pretty accomplished, managing to compose an entire song in one night with barely any sleep.
“Nah, I knew if we had (y/n) helping us, we’d get it done with ease,” Changbin said, smiling at you. You flipped your hair in mock cockiness.
“Yes, thank you so much for all your help, (y/n), we never would’ve finished without you,” Chan thanked you, a warm smile spreading across his face. You looked away so he wouldn’t see your blush.
“It was fun, even if I lost an entire night’s sleep,” you joked. They made their way over to the door, and you followed.
“We’re going to get out of your hair now, hopefully you can get back to sleep,” Changbin said as they approached the door.
“Well I guess I’ll see you guys.” You waved goodbye to them as they headed out the door. The last one was Chan, who stopped at the door.
“Hey guys, you go on ahead, I have some business stuff to talk to (y/n) about,” he said, gesturing for them to go. As soon as they left, he turned to you.
“So what is this business inquiry?” You asked. He smiled nervously, running his hand through his hair.
“Well, actually, as much as I’d love to talk business with you, that’s actually not what I was going to talk to you about.”
“Oh?”
“I was wondering if, uh, well I just really liked spending time with you,” he started.
“I liked spending time with you, too,” you replied, hoping he was asking what you thought he was asking.
“Really? That’s good. Then maybe you’d like to hang out again some time?”
“Like on a date?”
“Uh, yeah, but only if you’d like that.” You smiled.
“Yeah, I’d like that.” He breathed a sigh of relief.
“Cool. So, uh, I guess I’ll text you?” you nodded, and he turned to leave.
“Wait!” you called out, and he turned back to you. You grabbed his arm and reached up to kiss him on the cheek. The smile on his face was brighter than the sun. “Well, uh, see you,” you said, running back into your house. You could’ve sworn you heard someone cheering.
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tech-battery · 4 years ago
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ThinkPad X1 Fold review: Lenovo's foldable PC is nowhere near ready
Lenovo is no stranger to making weird things. In 2016, the company gave us the first dual-screen hybrid with the Yoga Book that was part color tablet, part e-ink touchscreen keyboard / drawing pad. It followed that up with a second-generation in 2018, but also gave us things like tablets with fold-out kickstands and laptops with speakers built into the hinge or an e-ink screen on the lid. Not to mention that Lenovo pioneered the 360-degree hinge system and was the first to announce a 5G laptop with Qualcomm in 2019.
So it shouldn’t be surprising that the company is the first to deliver a foldable tablet PC that you can actually buy. We saw a prototype of the ThinkPad X1 Fold last year and got all the specs at CES 2020, and now it’s finally hitting shelves for $2,600 to start. For that price, you’re not just getting a large foldable phone. In addition to the fact that it runs Windows, the 13.3-inch X1 Fold also acts as a mini laptop when it’s folded halfway and you add Lenovo’s companion keyboard. If it was well-executed, Lenovo’s first foldable PC could have been better than a regular laptop, and not simply jumping on a hot trend. The problem with the X1 Fold, though, is that the execution needs work.
Summary
The ThinkPad X1 Fold is an impressive piece of technology that sorely needs better execution. It’s laudable that Lenovo was able to make a 13.3-inch OLED tablet that can bend, but on its own the $2,600 Fold is a seriously expensive Windows tablet. Throw in the $230 keyboard that fits neatly between the screen’s two halves for a faux laptop mode and you get a neat mini machine that’s only good for quick emails and tweets. But few, if any, people should spend nearly $3,000 to buy the X1 Fold when any Surface tablet would serve you far better.
Like the Surface Duo I reviewed earlier this year, the X1 Fold is a unique device. Yes, it's a big foldable and we've seen and tested a few foldable phones by now so the technology doesn't feel quite as novel. But Lenovo's device is the first that's this large and runs Windows, making it basically a foldable Surface tablet. Because of its flexible screen and sturdy hinge, the X1 Fold can be used in a number of orientations similar to the Surface Duo and the Galaxy Z Fold 2, like book or laptop. But because the hinge only opens to 180 degrees, you won't be able to rotate it all the way over into a tent mode.
As a tablet or book
For the $2,600 starting price, you'll only get the X1 Fold itself without a keyboard or stylus, meaning you’ll largely be using it as a tablet or "book". It's a serviceable device and is surprisingly well made. I like the leather cover that not only makes this feel like a real (if hefty) notebook, but also adds a touch of class. On the top bezel sits a 5-megapixel webcam, while power and volume buttons line the right edge. There's also a pair of USB-C ports, one on the left side and the other on the bottom.
With a 13.3-inch screen the Fold is quite large for a tablet, and it certainly feels chunkier than the iPad Pro or Samsung's Galaxy Tab S7+. It weighs 2.2 pounds and has a 11.5mm profile, and when folded it's about 24mm thick. All that heft makes this difficult to maneuver with one hand, and I struggled to open the Fold while holding a camera with my other hand.
When you close the X1 Fold, it magnetically snaps shut and there's a tiny gap near the hinge. That comes in handy when you need some leverage to pry the device open, because the magnets holding it together are quite strong. Once you get the screen moving though, the hinge springs open. It starts getting more resistant when you push it beyond a 25 degree angle and you can bend the screen so it's half closed and stays that way.
In this orientation, you can hold the X1 Fold as if it were a book and run two apps side by side to drag and drop between them or just to keep an eye on Twitter while watching YouTube. Or you could also set the Fold up on the kickstand built into its leather case and have a second screen or just to watch Netflix on. The 2K OLED screen here is bright and colorful, and although there is a small crease in the middle, it’s not very obvious… when the screen is flat at least. When the display is bent though, the dent in the middle is significantly brighter than the rest of the panel, and makes viewing anything full screen a bit jarring.
My main frustration with using the Fold as a tablet is that Windows is still an atrocious touch-based operating system. We’ve known this for a long time -- Microsoft’s many public embarrassments with mobile versions of Windows have proven this point time and time again.
Honestly, it was downright infuriating to use Tablet Mode on the X1 Fold, especially when I just wanted to go back to the desktop to find a file I saved. Trying to drag and drop windows didn’t behave the way I expected it to, not to mention Microsoft’s app store is pitifully bare compared to Apple and Google’s options. There still isn’t an official Kindle app, for example.
Obviously book mode is best for reading (or it would be if there was a real Kindle app). But it’s also pretty good for writing and taking notes. Lenovo’s $100 pen is responsive and smooth, though I prefer Microsoft or Samsung’s options.
To its credit, Lenovo tried to make it easier to use the Fold in Book mode by adding its own mode-switching software. By tapping an icon in the system indicator tray, you can quickly expand an app to take up the whole screen or snap two apps side by side. This did make it easier to launch, say, YouTube and Twitter next to each other, but aside from a few very niche scenarios I struggled to find a reason to actually use book mode.
As a mini laptop
Throw in Lenovo’s $230 companion keyboard, though, and the X1 Fold presents a far more compelling case (if you forget about the price). Of course, you can use your own keyboard, but the company’s version not only fits perfectly in the gap between the two halves of the screen and magnetically stays in place, but also charges wirelessly when it’s stowed in the closed tablet.
With this setup, you get a cute little mini laptop with a 7-inch-ish screen that’s perfect for getting work done when you’re in a tight space. The buttons on this understandably small keyboard offer an impressive amount of travel and space, all things considered.
But tradeoffs had to be made to squeeze all those keys onto something this small, so some buttons like the dash and equal signs at the end of the row of number keys had to be sacrificed. It also had to move the apostrophe from where it normally is next to the Enter key to slightly higher and farther to the right, between the Backspace and Enter instead. These changes took a bit of adjusting to and made typing a little awkward. It’s fine for a quick email or tweet, but I wouldn’t want to type on this for hours.
I do appreciate that Lenovo included a trackpad on the keyboard, even if it is pretty small at 3 inches wide and 1.5 inches tall. While it isn’t the most responsive touchpad around, I was thankful for a way to use the cursor on Windows, as well as multi-finger gestures like swiping to switch between apps. Surprisingly, I never felt like it was too cramped.
Otherwise using the X1 Fold as a mini laptop was… fine. Because you’re reduced to using a 7-inch screen in this mode, you can only get about three app icons on the taskbar at once unless you reduce the OS’s font and icon size. Doing that on a screen this small makes any text quite hard to read. And don’t even think about running two windows side by side -- they’ll barely fit or be so small that you’ll need to scroll forever to see everything.
Performance and battery life
The X1 Fold uses an Intel Lakefield Core i5 processor with Intel’s “Hybrid technology,” which the chip maker says is “engineered for mobile performance.” It uses architecture similar to ARM’s big.Little design, relegating less demanding tasks to lower-power Atom cores and tapping bigger cores for tougher processes. In general, the Fold kept up with my needs, and the few hiccups I came across seemed more to do with glitchy software than a slow processor. For example, sometimes Lenovo’s mode switching tool wouldn’t work, and instead of letting me choose the window I wanted open on either half of the display, it would just show two random apps I had open. Switching between landscape and portrait modes would bring up all the windows I had open, for example, and I often had to wait for webpages to expand and fill the whole screen when I maximized them.
These were mostly issues that had to do with switching between modes -- when I stayed in either tablet or laptop orientations, the device generally kept pace. Granted, I didn’t do anything too demanding like editing video, but for most of my day to day workflow the machine held up.
On our video rundown test, the X1 Fold clocked an impressive 13 hours and 30 minutes, which beats the Galaxy Tab S7+, the Surface Pro 7 and the iPad Pro 12.9. In real-world use, it generally lasts all day in tablet mode, though I found that using the keyboard seemed to drain the battery a bit more quickly. There’s also the option of getting a 5G-capable model of the X1 Fold, by the way, which I expect will sap energy even more.
Wrap-up
I’m having a hard time recommending anyone buy the X1 Fold. I don’t want to diminish Lenovo’s achievement here -- it’s impressive that the company managed to make a foldable PC that it’s ready to roll out to the public. But as is the case with many first-gen products, the X1 Fold is an expensive experiment. If you buy this, know that you’re basically paying to be a beta tester. There are plenty of quirks to work out. While I’m excited to see companies innovate, the ThinkPad X1 Fold’s exorbitant price and lack of real benefits keep me from endorsing it. If you need a laptop-tablet hybrid that runs Windows and can fit in tight spaces, the Surface Pro 7 or the Surface Go 2 are much more reasonably priced and offer better productivity.
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chelseaapproved · 7 years ago
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I’ll Sing a Song Beside You
read on Ao3!
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7  | 8 | 9 | 10  | 11  | 12  | 13
Chapter 3
After the third night Chat visits her, Marinette decides to take down all her Adrien posters. She feels rude keeping the boy on her balcony when she has a cozy, warm room they could hang out in but she would never welcome him there with the posters. She can’t even think of what Chat would say if he ever saw them.
“You got number 7 wrong.” Chat is laying on her carpet, his legs propped on her chaise, as he reads over her math homework. Despite her protests, checking her homework has become one of Chat Noir’s favorite things to do in her room.
“I did?” Marinette frowns and wheels her chair over to him.
He hums in agreement and hands over her notebook. Marinette looks it over quickly but doesn’t see anything wrong.
“Are you sure?”
“What’s four times eight?”
“Thirty-two.”
“What’d you write?”
Marinette glances down and lo and behold, she wrote forty-two, which threw off the rest of her equation. “Oops. Thanks for the cat-ch.”
“No problem. That’s what I’m here for.”
“You visit my room every night to spot my careless math errors.”
“Marinette,” Chat whines as he kicks his legs off the chaise and sits up. “It’s not fair when you make too many puns. My poor heart can’t handle it.”
Marinette slips off her chair to sit next to Chat on the floor, letting her shoulder brush against his. “Sorry, you must be rubbing off on me.”
Chat grins and wraps his arm around her shoulders. The cuddling should be weird but their first meeting had their bodies pressed against each other, trapped in her yo-yo; touching always came naturally to them. Plus, she feels calmer when they cuddle, safer. She wonders what Chat thinks about their constant need to be touching each other but she doesn’t know how to bring it up.
“You’re in a really good mood today,” he notes.
“I guess I am.”
“Any reason why?”
“Am I not allowed to be happy?”
“You’re always happy. You seem extra happy today. There’s a certain buzz about you.”
She’s reluctant to tell Chat the reason for her good mood though. It doesn’t seem right—like she’s breaking an unspoken rule—telling Chat about her huge crush on Adrien. He keeps pressing her about it though so she relents. “I talked to my crush today. He actually started the conversation and everything. It was nice.”
Adrien had started talking to her more and more the past couple of weeks. It’s both exhilarating and terrifying but Marinette is trying really, really hard not to get her hopes up.
“Your… crush?”
“Yeah.” Marinette shifts uncomfortably in his arms. She definitely shouldn’t have brought it up. She can’t peg why talking about it with him is awkward, but it most certainly is and she wants this conversation done with. “He’s just some boy who goes to my school.”
“Oh.” There’s a lull and Marinette tries to think of a way to change the subject but Chat keeps pushing on. “He must be pretty awesome if he’s caught your attention.”
“He is,” she admits. “He’s so sweet and smart and good at, like, everything and he’s really cute and… anyway, enough about my lackluster love life. Is there anyone in your life, Chat Noir?”
“You know you’re the only lady for me, Bug,” he says with a wink.
Marinette rolls her eyes but lets it slide and changes the subject. After all, there’s still a line that they precariously drew, one that she can’t cross until she knows his identity too.
“Wanna play UMS III for a bit?”
“Is that even a question?” Chat says eagerly. They untangle themselves and head over to Marinette’s computer. Her new wallpaper is an action shot of the four heroes taking on an akuma. Whoever took it got a really good angle of her. “Nice background.”
“Thanks. I thought I should give the heroes of Paris my support.”
“It’s nice to feel appreciated.”
They only get through a game and a half when Chat’s baton starts going off.
“Vix?”
“Thank goodness! There’s an akuma down by the Seine and Ladybug and Bee aren’t answering my calls. Come quick!”
Chat hangs up and looks at Marinette. “I guess we’re gonna have to put a pause on our game. Duty calls, M’Lady.”
Marinette beams at him.  “Let’s do this! Tikki, spots on!”
“So cool,” Chat whispers.
“You’ve already seen me transform, Chaton.” Ladybug starts toward the skylight
“I know but it’s still cool!” He follows her out the room and the pair rush off to face today’s villain.
When they get there, there are fires everywhere and Vixen is dangling from a rooftop. “About time,” she exclaims. “Help me so we can beat this guy up.”
Ladybug smirks and races to the roof to pull up her teammate. “We’re not here to beat anyone up, Vix. We’re here to help him.”
“He made it personal. You can help him, I just want to get one good punch in before you fix everything.”
“Aren’t you the one always saying—”
“Look out,” Chat yells, tackling the girls to ground. Ladybug feels a strong force of heat zip by them.
“Thanks for the save, Chat,” Ladybug says, trying to free herself from the cage that is Chat Noir.
“You have to be more careful.” He completely ignores Ladybug’s struggle, choosing instead to crush both girls under his weight. “You can’t keep getting so distracted.”
This ruffles her feathers more than she’d like to admit. How can Chat Noir, of all people, lecture her on being more careful? The boy is a walking disaster who is far too rash and impulsive and spends half their time fighting cracking jokes.
Ladybug pushes Chat off her and wobbles to her feet, both knees cracking in the process. “That’s rich, coming from you.”
Chat stands up too, leaving them just inches apart. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I need to be more careful? You’re always throwing yourself into danger and never think about the consequences. Besides, I can do whatever I want. Who are you to tell me to be more careful?”
“I do what I have to do to protect you and civilians. You were the one having a chat with Vixen, leaving you defenseless.”
“I would have been fine.”
“He shot a fireball at you!”
“It wouldn’t have even hit me, it was too high!”
“It might have!”
“Oh, my gosh. Are you always going to be this infuriating now?”
“I’m not being the infuriating one right now.”
“Really? Because up until a few days ago, this never would have been a problem. So tell me, Chat Noir, what is this really about?” Ladybug steps forward and lifts her head even higher, bringing them nose to nose.
“Um, I don’t really know what’s happening but now is not the time for your lover’s spat,” Vixen says from her spot on the ground.
Ladybug flinches and leaps back. She completely forgot about Vixen and the akuma. “You’re right,” she says. “Let’s wrap this up quickly.” She leaps off the building, following the trail of fire, and doesn’t give Chat a second glance.
--
Marinette is tempted to ignore the consistent knocking and scratching but she knows that’s just her stubbornness talking. It’s always better to talk through an argument than to let it sit and fester. At least, that’s what Tikki keeps telling her.
“Can’t I avoid talking to him for one more day,” Marinette asks.
“What good will that do?”
“It’ll let me stay angry for an extra day.”
“I’m going to let him in.”
“Ugh, no! I’ll do it.” Marinette heads to her bed, grumbling ‘stupid Kwami’ under her breath.
“Hey,” Chat says, dropping onto her bed. “I didn’t think you were gonna let me in.”
“I almost didn’t.”
They sit across from each other on her bed, cross-legged and tense. They’ve never really had big arguments before.
The seconds tick by.
“So, about before,” Chat finally says.
“Yes?”
Chat sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “I’m sorry for getting overprotective. I didn’t think knowing who you are would affect me this much but… I let it get to me.”
“I’ve always been Ladybug. Everything we’ve done together has been me. You can’t treat me like a delicate flower just because I’m Marinette, too.”
“I know. It’s just… you’re so tiny, Marinette. I always… you’re really…” Chat takes a deep breath. “Now that I know who you are, it’s not just Ladybug who is in trouble when we fight, it’s Marinette. I’ll try to be better about unnecessary freak outs but it might take me a while. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“I don’t want anything to happen to you, either. But we can’t let our feelings or emotions cloud our judgments. And next time I’ll try to be more alert when there’s an akuma around. I always let my guard down with Vix, I don’t know why.”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she was your favorite teammate.”
“Oh hush, you,” Marinette says, relieved that the atmosphere feels more relaxed. “It’s you and me, always.”
Chat grins at her and scooches closer. “So, tell me more about this crush of yours.”
“Ugh,” Marinette groans. “You just got back on my good side, do you really want to ruin it?”
“What? You don’t want to talk about this boy you like?”
“I already told you about him. He’s—he’s really nice.”
“Nice,” Chat repeats.
“Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone with such a caring and gentle demeanor. He genuinely wants the best for everyone, you know? Even some of the worst bullies, he’s there for them if they need it.” Marinette plays with a loose thread from her comforter. She doesn’t like talking about Adrien with Chat Noir but now that she started, she’s finding it difficult to stop. “You just don’t see people like that anymore. And he’s always so busy, doing a million things, but he still finds the time to help when someone asks. And he never complains about how overworked he is, either.
“Gosh, and he has so many friends—of course he does, how can anyone dislike him—but he still seems lonely, sometimes. Like, he’s surrounded by people but there’s still something missing? And sometimes I’m so tempted to just go up to him and wrap him in a huge hug and let him know I care and I’m there for him. I never do, obviously but if I could, I would hug him all the time.”
“Why can’t you?”
Marinette hangs her head in her hands and groans. “I can barely talk to him, let alone find the courage to hug him. Can we stop talking about this now?”
“Sure. I should probably head home anyway.”
Marinette whips her head up. “So soon?”
“The akuma used up all my time. I wouldn’t have even stopped by but I wanted to make sure we were okay. We are okay, right?”
“Of course we are, Kitty.”
“Okay, well, have a good night. Good luck with your crush!”
“Stop bringing up my crush,” Marinette says, flinging a pillow at him as he leaps to the balcony. She can hear him snicker before he takes off.
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lostborderline · 4 years ago
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Week Overview
This week has been relatively good to me honestly. I’ve probably had more good than bad happen. Even if I did stress out pretty bad sometimes. I’m going to start chronologically as much as possible. 
Friday: In the morning I was about to go to Target, and thought my boyfriend wanted to come because we always grocery shop together but he didn’t so I went alone. Which is fine, I enjoy shopping alone because I can take my time. While sitting in the parking lot, someone who lived in one of the buildings asked me for a ride to Stop and Shop so she didn’t have to take the bus. She is a very nice, old black woman and I’ve met her previously. I agreed to take her and we talked along the way. I suppose this was my good deed for the day. After I got paid, I ordered HTV sheets online for my shirts and it was a relatively good price and they were apparently way better quality than the ones I was using. I also ordered some skincare products from Elf because they’re products are not only amazing, but affordable too. It was only $15 for 5 products and I figured I needed some actual products and I want to care for myself more. I hung out with my cousin today as well, we went to BAM and I got a deck of Oracle cards and a set of citrine crystal earrings which are beautiful. We headed back to my grandma’s house and sat outside with my aunt, grandma, uncle, and cousin. My aunt mentioned that I should buy some crystals to go along with the deck of cards and suggested a place I completely forgot existed, Pandora’s Box. I took my cousin up there with me to Norwich and purchased selenite, black tourmaline, and black onyx as well as a mini satchel, and a depression aid kit. 
Sunday: I decided to make a mini jar of prosperity oil as I watched a video of someone else making one. I decided to make it my own because everyone has different ingredients. It is supposed to attract money and success into your life. The ingredients I added were: mint (money, prosperity), basil (money, success), cinnamon (prosperity, good luck, energy), sesame oil (creativity, passion, money, success), patchouli essential oil (money, wealth, prosperity, material goods), sugar (fast acting agent). It was recommended to leave the oil to sit for two weeks so it can absorb all the herbs within the oil. I also went to Walmart and bought a nice lamp and a daylight bulb so that I can do my makeup in my room without the shitty lighting. When I tested it out, it was amazing and I was obsessed. It is amazing for photos as well as doing makeup. Later on this day, I organized my desk area to accommodate space for my makeup, shop items, school items, and machinery. It felt really good to do this.
Monday: Today marked the start of my weeklong Summer break before going back August 31st. I also slept the whole day because I was really tired. When I woke up, I went to Walmart and bought a nice wok for only $6. It’s 14 inches and I made vegetable fried rice with it, it is a dream to cook on. 
Tuesday: Today my HTV sheets arrived. After work I went to Walmart and got a nice clothing rack to hang my products on, it was only $9 and was easy to assemble. I also assembled it myself while my boyfriend went out and did whatever. I also bought 6 shirts, 3 med, and 3 large. I tested out the HTV by printing one of my popular designs onto it and applying it with the heat press. It was a hot peel unlike my other transfer sheets which were cold peel. There was a definite quality difference and it was easy to use. I was very scared to peel it because I messed up every time before. At first, there was some product coming off but I put it back down and put the heat press on it again. Eventually it came out nice and it is currently hanging on the rack waiting to be sold. I started my bullet journal today with the one I bought a few weeks ago when I noticed my current notebook getting filled up. It’s initial intention was to be exactly like my current notebook, but then I decided I wanted to make it a bullet journal and (actually use it this time) and make it look really pretty. As always, if I don’t “vibe” with a journal or a notebook, I tend to not use it or want to use it. It originally was very plain blue with a quote on it. I felt that I would not vibe with this so I added some personalization to it with stickers I had and even added one of my own. Finally putting a use to all the unused stickers I have (that are not mine). I did also make some sticker designs because I’ve been putting it off. I made 3 sticker designs. I thought they turned out really nice. However, when I printed them, they didn’t have a nice quality. It was solely due to the fact of how I was creating them (my art software that does not have transparency, which is essential for sticker making). I attempted to use scissors to get rid of the nasty border and used an exacto knife for the insides, and I accidentally cut myself on it, so great. 
Wednesday: Today was a pretty good day actually. At work, things went smoothly. I was the order taker, and normally it feels like the shift goes by forever but it wasn’t that bad this time. I was the one in charge so I made sure everything was done for the next shift and that everything went by smoothly and answered any phone calls and whatever. Later on this day, I was fed up with my designs not being the best quality that it can be. I decided to check out the Apple website because I love seeing their products, they’re so nice and smooth. I ended up applying for an Apple Card (which before I was denied 3 times), I actually got approved this time which is amazing! So, due to that, I was able to finance a brand new iPad Air 2019 and the first gen Apple Pencil. It is only $47 a month for both so it really is not bad at all. I am planning on canceling my gym membership, because I don’t even go, and honestly I feel I am content with my body right now and I don’t need a gym to get exercise. I still have yet to come into PF to cancel because you can’t do it over the phone. To make things better, before purchasing, I did do all the math to make sure I was financially stable especially for the upcoming weeks because I have bills due on the second week of September. I made a plan to save all my change to deposit into my account and to limit eating out to only once a week. (it shouldn’t be that hard). As of right now, my bills in tips that I make I will be depositing into my joint account to help pay for groceries because we are a little behind. I also consulted my friend Rheanna about the iPad because she has one for her shop. She has a different version but she says it is absolutely worth it and that I should definitely do it. So, in conclusion, it is a great investment for my business. Also, I would be using it for more than just that. I would be taking notes for school, grocery shopping lists, calculator as well (because with wearing face masks in the store, it makes Face ID unusable so it is a hassle to open the calculator, and the iPad I got has Touch ID instead) and much more. It is portable so I can draw anywhere literally. With my laptop PC and graphic tablet I can’t do that. I am actually very glad I got this and my pencil is supposed to arrive Thursday while it will take the iPad 2-3 weeks to arrive unfortunately. 
Thursday: Today, I was actually at work on time. Work went pretty smooth and I got everything done, there was no yelling at all or complaints. My coworker invited me to his upcoming event where people can be vendors and sell their shirts and other products. Showcase their shops kind of. He said he is planning on getting the permit to host the event in New London (which is the perfect place). Originally he said it would be a cash only event, but I suggested that a lot of people only carry card, like myself. I suggested that we accept Cashapp, PayPal and even get those tiny Square card reader things that plug into your phone. I also gave some more ideas. He said he would be having food catered to the event and I suggested that the vendors should also make homemade food to bring to cut costs on the event, as it will be free to get in. I suggested that when the advertisement begins, that I would help advertise as I have a big following on Facebook and I even said I would create a banner with a piece of every vendor’s art to show potential guests what they are in for. Eventually he asked me to help with the event, to which I said yes. I actually am very excited for this as it will be good business for everyone. 
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koristore-blog · 6 years ago
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  Editors’ rating:
The Pros
Slim and handsome design; Colorful, full-HD display; Comfortable keyboard; Long battery life; Strong overall performance
The Cons
Touchpad can be finicky; Some bloatware
Verdict
The Acer Aspire S 13 is one of the best ultraporable laptop values, offering strong performance, long battery life and a colorful display, all in a slim design.
Thin, light and long-lasting, the Acer Aspire S 13 has pretty much everything you want in an ultraportable laptop, and all for an affordable $749. This 13-inch notebook packs a speedy Core i5 processor, a fairly roomy 256GB SSD and a colorful full-HD display into a handsome chassis that’s only 0.57 inches thick. (A separate Core i7 model is also available.) The S 13 also offers robust Dolby sound and a comfy keyboard, although the touchpad can be pretty finicky at times. Overall, this Acer is one of the best values in its weight class.
Design
Acer deserves credit for not going down the MacBook-clone path like so many others have done. Instead of being yet another silver slab, the Aspire S 13 stands out with its obsidian-black color and textured nano-imprint cover, which gives the notebook a slick, pinstripe aesthetic. (You can also get this system in white, which is even more striking.)
The area around the keyboard and wrist rest is made of aluminum, while the bottom has rubber paint with a nice soft-touch feel. I also dig the diamond-cut edges around the deck and touchpad. The only eyesore on this machine is the thick plastic bezel around the 13-inch display.
The obsidian black Aspire S 13 stands out with a textured nano-imprint cover that gives the notebook a slick, pinstripe aesthetic.
Measuring 12.9 x 9 x 0.57 inches and weighing 2.9 pounds, the Aspire S 13 is plenty light enough for frequent travelers and students. It’s a bit lighter than the 13-inch MacBook Air (12.8 x 8.9 x 0.11-0.68 inches, 3 pounds), but has a similar footprint to that device. The 2.8-pound HP Envy 13t is about the same size as the Acer, while the Asus UX303UA weighs a heavier 3.4 pounds. The XPS 13 is the lightest and most compact of the bunch, at 2.6 pounds and 12 x 7.9 x 0.3-0.6 inches, thanks to its nearly bezel-less design.
Ports
Despite its thin profile, the Aspire S 13 has all the ports you need for today and tomorrow. The left side houses a USB 3.0 port, SD Card slot and headphone/mic jack, while the right side has the power port, HDMI port, another USB 3.0 port and a USB Type-C port.
Display
The Aspire S 13 I reviewed came with a nontouch 1080p display, but you can order it with a touch-screen panel. I’d stick with nontouch, as you’ll get more battery life. Plus, this panel is plenty colorful and bright.
While watching the trailer for Suicide Squad on the S 13’s display, I could make out every slicked-back lock in the Joker’s green do, and I appreciated the shimmer from his black jacket. The viewing angles could be a bit wider, though, as I noticed colors shifting at about 35 degrees off-center.
The Acer’s screen performed well on various lab tests, including a color gamut of 106.8 percent. That blows the doors off of the MacBook Air (66 percent) and beats the nontouch XPS 13 (92 percent) and HP Envy 13t (103 percent), but the Asus Zenbook UX303UA was even better, at 116 percent. The S 13’s screen is also fairly accurate, as it turned in a Delta-E rating of 0.98 (0 is perfect).
I had no trouble working outdoors with the S 13; even on a bright, sunny day I could make out the screen, thanks to its 327 nits of brightness. That outshines most of the competition, with the exception of the MacBook Air (334 nits).
If you’re going to be staring at the display for long periods of time, you can toggle the Acer Bluelight Shield setting, which is designed to lower blue-light emissions to reduce eyestrain and prevent fatigue. (You’ll find this setting in the Acer Quick Access app.)
Turning this feature on gives the screen a yellowish, more book-like hue, which I found weird at first but comfortable after a while.
Audio
The stereo speakers on the Aspire S 13 are so powerful I had to turn the volume down so as not to scare the heck out of family members — and that was just for email alerts in Outlook.
MORE: The Best Laptops for Every Need
I experienced room-filling audio when I played the Mighty Mighty Bosstones’ “The Impression That I Get” with a shockingly wide sound stage; I could easily hear Dicky Barrett’s gravelly vocals over the peppy horns. The audio started to distort at closer to 100 percent volume, but at 90 percent or less there was still plenty of punch.
The speakers on the Aspire S 13 are so powerful I had to turn the volume down so as not to scare family members — and that was just for email alerts.
The Dolby Audio app allows you to choose from multiple sound profiles, including Music, Movie, Game and Voice, but I stuck with Dynamic most of the time, as it’s supposed to change the profile on the fly. There’s also an equalizer if you want to really dig deep.
Keyboard and Touchpad
The S 13’s keyboard offers a comfy typing experience, but I would change a couple of things. Despite offering just 0.87 mm of travel (we prefer 1mm or more), the keys had a nice, pillowy feel as I typed, letting me reach 75 words per minute with just 2 errors. That’s a bit faster than my 70 wpm average.
The layout offers two different stages of backlighting, one for dimly lit rooms and another that goes to full brightness. My problem with the layout is that the function keys are reversed for various shortcuts. For example, you need to press Fn and then the F8 button to mute the sound, as opposed to just F8 itself. Also, the function keys are tiny.
It may be called a Precision Touchpad, but I found the large, 4.1 x 2.5-inch touchpad less than precise. While two-finger scrolling was fairly smooth and I easily executed Windows 10 gestures (such as swiping three fingers up to see all apps), the cursor stuttered a bit as I navigated the desktop. This made selecting text a challenge. In addition, the cursor sometimes moved when I accidentally brushed the pad, and sometimes I would inadvertently select text. Better palm rejection would help.
Performance
With its 6th-Generation Core i5-6200U processor, 8GB of RAM and 256GB SSD, the Aspire S 13 proved swift in my testing. It ably juggled 16 tabs in Chrome while I played an episode of Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt on Netflix in another window. Only when I added a 17th tab did I start to see a bit of slowdown.
MORE: Best Ultrabooks (Thin-and-Light Windows Laptops)
On the Geekbench 3 test, which measures overall performance, the Aspire S 13 scored 6,331, which is comparable to the showings of its closest competitors. The Core i7 model of the S 13 notched 6,925 on the same test.
The Asus UX303UA, which has the same processor as the Acer, notched a slightly lower 6,290, while the Dell XPS 13 nontouch (6,391) and HP Envy (6,306) — also with the same CPU — were neck and neck with the S 13. The MacBook Air was far behind, at 5,783, but it also has an older, 5th-Generation processor.
The S 13’s SSD is faster than the average ultraportable’s, but behind the best we’ve tested. It took the system 30 seconds to copy about 5GB worth of mixed-media files, giving it a transfer rate of 167.7 megabytes per second. That trumps the Asus UX303UA (159 MBps) and lowly HP 13t (77.1 MBps), but the Dell XPS 13 (231.3 MBps) and MacBook Air (358.4 MBps) are considerably faster.
You should have no problem crunching numbers with this notebook, as the Aspire S 13 took a brisk 4 minutes and 29 seconds to match 20,000 names and addresses in OpenOffice. That’s the same amount of time as the Asus, slightly faster than the Dell XPS 13 (4:33) and only a second behind the HP Envy 13t. The MacBook Air was a much faster 4:03. The Core i7 version of the S 13 took the same amount of time as the Mac.
Battery Life
The Acer Aspire S 13 has the battery life to last a cross-country flight, and then some. On the Laptop Mag Battery Test, which involves continuous web surfing over Wi-Fi (at 100 nits of screen brightness), the system lasted a strong 9 hours and 8 minutes. The Core i7 version of the S 13 we tested lasted an evern longer 9:48.
That run time smokes the HP Envy 13t (5:48) and also beats the Asus UX303UA (8:27) and the ultraportable category average (8:10). However, the more expensive Dell XPS 13 and 13-inch MacBook Air lasted much longer, at 11:54 and 14 hours, respectively.
MORE: Laptops with the Longest Battery Life
Webcam
Most webcams on Windows laptops are terrible, but the Aspire S 13’s 720p camera is pretty decent. My salmon-colored shirt looked accurate in a selfie, although my face was a bit blurry. I conducted one video call over Skype and another over BlueJeans, and other callers didn’t have any complaints.
Software
Acer includes a few useful utilities, along with more bloatware than we’d like. The compact Acer Quick Access app lets you toggle the Bluelight Shield function for when you want to reduce eye strain, use power-off USB charging (which lets you juice gadgets even when the system is powered down) and enable network sharing. Acer Care Center combines access to support, recovery management, updates and tune-ups in one app. The strangely redundant Acer Power Button app lets you turn off the display or tell the notebook to sleep, hibernate or shut down.
Acer bundles some third-party software that we’d rather download ourselves, and some we can live without altogether. The former camp includes Netflix and Skype, and the latter includes Amazon Kindle and WildTangent Games. There are also trials of Microsoft Office and McAfee Internet Security Suite.
Configuration Options
We reviewed the Acer Aspire S13 S5-371-52JR, which retails for $749 and features a Core i5-6200U processor, 8GB of RAM, a 256GB SSD, and a 13.3-inch and 1920 x 1080 display. Stepping up to the $799 white model (the S5-371T-58CC) gets you the white color and an IPS display with wider viewing angles. Acer also offers models with a Core i7 CPU and 512GB SSD for $999, or you could just get the larger SSD paired with a Core i5 chip for $899.
Bottom Line
If you’re looking for a great student laptop or a machine for frequent travel, or if you just want a lightweight laptop that can go the distance, the Acer Aspire S 13 is one of the best bargains around. For $749, you get a speedy Core i5 processor, a 256GB SSD, a colorful full-HD display and more than 9 hours of battery life, all wrapped up in a svelte package that doesn’t ape Apple. The stereo speakers also impressed, delivering surprisingly robust audio. I just wish the touchpad weren’t so sensitive, as it sometimes just got in the way.
The Dell XPS 13 is the better bet if you want longer battery life in a more compact design, but it costs a pricey $999 with a Core i5 processor and smaller 128GB SSD (and $1,149 with 256GB). The Asus UX303UA is another strong contender, offering comparable performance to the Aspire S 13 in an all-metal design for $799, but it offers lackluster audio and doesn’t last quite as long on a charge as the Acer does. Overall, the Aspire S 13 is one heck of a value and one of our favorite ultraportable laptops.
TECHNICAL SPECIFICATIONS
CPU Operating System RAM RAM Upgradable to Hard Drive Size Hard Drive Speed Hard Drive Type Secondary Hard Drive Size Secondary Hard Drive Speed Secondary Hard Drive Type Display Size Native Resolution Optical Drive Optical Drive Speed Graphics Card Video Memory Wi-Fi Wi-Fi Model Bluetooth Mobile Broadband Touchpad Size 4.1 x 2.5 USB Ports Warranty/Support Size Weight Company Website
  Acer Aspire S 13 Review Editors' rating: The Pros Slim and handsome design; Colorful, full-HD display; Comfortable keyboard; Long battery life; Strong overall performance…
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deborahcastellano · 7 years ago
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[Rules of Exile] Rule No. 8 You Have a Right to Sanctuary
Exile has a way of grinding you down.  Sure, finding the hollow of our hunger will make us strong Queens, but that feels really abstract after nine hours on your feet in your copy room mediation cave where you've started to wonder key things like: will you ever read a book again?  Will you ever write again?  Can you still feel feelings?
Add to this, whatever austerity you were once willingly putting yourself through but now you have stopped fantasizing about sex things like a normal person and instead are immersing yourself in fully developed reveries about ground beef.
Maybe, sometimes, you are going to the gym.  But cycling only because it's the only time you have to text people you actually like and look at Insta and pretend you are a person.  Also, it's quiet there and no one talks to you except when you manage to not double book yourself for the millionth time and your friend Xtina goes with you.  Xtina is a trainer and pole instructor and gets up at 3:30a.  She's in exile too but still somehow has a will to live and reminds you not to be such a moody cow about yours as she barks at you through various tortures she's devised just for you which is flattering but also torture.
On your living room table currently: An empty water bottle you have not actually drank out of in a day, your wedding ring, your fit bit, a wine glass, a coffee cup, three milk stout bottles (left hand of course) from last night with your husband, a memoir you are supposed to be reading and reviewing and possibly interviewing the author for, sea salt (your best friend's contribution), cocoa nibs and cheese whisps you're not supposed to be eating, a shot glass, a highlighter, heart burn pills, a mason jar full of your valentine's day limited edition oil, your husband's million notebooks, a lighter and Fiona Horn's book that your editor whimsically threw in for you just in case.  Your husband has pants hung over a chair in the dining room because his exile isn't exactly easy either.
Your body has started attacking you because that's how it shows support for your troubles in exile, by temporarily disfiguring you.  You have a large patch of eczema on your clavicle that your husband and mother keep making worried pecking noises about and are never reassured that this happens, you have a med check with your doctor in a couple weeks any way and when exactly are you supposed to go to see her and then a derma when you have to bust your ass just to leave "early" (after an hour an a half of OT) to get your hair did so you don't have to look at three inch roots and collapse into an exile fueled depression about it.  You rub salves into it regularly and it itches, especially when they talk about it.  Your lips shed skin constantly, your scalp is as dry as the Sahara and you've started pulling your nose ring out in your sleep again.
But on Saturdays, when you work only five hours instead of ten, you start to regain some willpower, if only for a moment.  You take yourself on long walks through shops even though you don't have much money really because your housewares keep betraying you too just to add more insult to injury.  You are still waiting to be paid for your book, your tax return is already going to the Queen mother who helped you when your circuit breaker betrayed you in the fall and you have a shiny new water heater that you didn't want either.  But you have a little, and it's good to walk it all out and to see new things.  You can afford small things - a wash and salve for your face/clavicle, a new bb cream, gorgeous glitter from Nyx to put in your hair when your roots come back and this time you'll be in too deep to get them done but you can at least sparkle, colored lip balm to help with your lips.
But there is still time for revelations in the copy room and you realize that all of your beloved medieval Queens had a right to seek sanctuary where no one could bother them.  Even if it was the crypts in Westminster Abbey.
Perk to being a post-modern #QueenInExile: You don't have to chill with dead people's bones in cold, damp nearly lightless conditions unless you want to.
So, you may be saying to yourself that you don't have space for a sanctuary.  I disagree.  I share a 725 sq ft condo with Jow and I have space.  Now, if we're talking really small living, it may be a little harder but like everything else, it's about priority.
For me, it started with a dream about Mary M. who was young and tattooed/pierced up and had a pop up bookstore the size of my bedroom in my dream.  She had a gorgeous huge yard with a pool and flowers everywhere.  There were people outside in various states of undress - drumming, laughing and getting down.  She had an amused while tolerant air about her about the shenanigans outside and people would tumble through the door, talking and laughing and looking at books.  She wanted to carry my book and have me give workshops which made me shy but flattered.  I was telling J. about Our Lady's appearance and he said that sanctuary space is important.  I went into the copy room meditation cave and started thinking about that.
Shared space becomes difficult with enough time.  Not impossible, but difficult.  I don't know that I would describe myself as territorial per se because that seems a lot more alpha and a lot less community guppy than I usually tend to be, but I have spent a long time building this tiny condo into a hearth.  For me that's been expressed in some interesting ways.  Like if I really don't like you or trust you, I don't want you in my space.  This becomes interesting when you share said space with a husband but we've mostly figured it out I think.
The beginning of this revelation really started at an event I was going to where I had my own suite. I've never had my own hotel suite (or room for the matter), it's always been mine and someone else's. This was very much my space, where I invited others into it. That set a very powerful standard for me. I loved nesting into my space, arranging my macarons and St. Germain just so. My sheepskin draped over the leather coffee table. My clothes hung up, my sinks and bedside table put together just so.
I loved deciding where my altar would go and not needing to consult anyone else. It was a space for thoughtful glamour choices with music I liked best. I liked seeing how capable I was. Forgot my phone charger? No problem. I called the nearest 5 Below and asked them and then took myself right over there to pick it up, listening to radiomancy omens on the way. I picked up a quartz tiara on a whim, which wound up to be my most complimented item. I loved telling admirers that it was 5 Below, not as compliment apology but a triumphant caw that it's for all of us to access, if desired.
I set up my altar to Babalon on the desk, intentionally arranging my vanity next to it so I was constantly sitting next to it. Purple embossed velvet, a crimson opened pomegranate, a sfogliatelle shaped like a yoni, a tiny gold tea cup with the word tramp scrawled across it, shining rose quartz, a delicate peacock feather, a red wax sealed love potion, snowy deer antlers, a pink glass container with a perpetually lit (electric) candle, a perfume I had mixed for this, an amethyst glass container for the perfume with curled reeds to spread it in my room. Soft rabbit skin. A glittering compact, a shimmering perfume atomizer, a picture of Her. Dried flower petals strewn across the altar.  It was a heady experience that made me think about Pennsic.
Part of why I think last Pennsic (for me, two years ago) was so hard for me was that I didn't have a room of my own, so to speak which is actually more like a tent of my own.  It took me a while to figure that out because I was too busy being upset with everyone and I had just finished writing my book which apparently makes me postpartum crazy.  But this year, I haven't just finished writing a book and I now know I need a retreat so that I can do whatever I want whenever I want to.  Including, being left the fuck alone.  And I got so excited to be able to decorate a space with no one else in mind.  I've been slowly acquiring house/tent wares a la Jael once I had that revelation.
So, I could see the value of having space that was just mine.  It made me think of the party me and Jow had for our birthdays and the happy memories I have from it.  I started thinking, what if I made the teepee a permanent sanctuary fixture?  I talked to Jow about it, figuring he'd be frowny faced about it, but he was completely into it.  I also wanted some rules:
Nothing fun happens in the teepee without me.  Reading and magic can, but nothing else.  It's my teepee.
If you use my sanctuary, you are to reset it back to its "default" setting.  No weird energetic dead bugs, no husband flotsam.
Again, Jow was very into it.  My clavicle situation may have contributed to his willingness, but I'm not going to look into it.
I really spent some time intentionally setting space there.  I got a velvet blanket and a meditation cushion.  I made a small altar.  I got a tiny essential oil diffuser.  I strung fairy lights.  I put in the sheepskin I was gifted by Ro.  I set my intention.  I consecrated my space.
Think about being little, what was better than a blanket fort?  Why not have one now for your Work, for a chill space, for a space to read and create?  I cheated in making mine a bit as my structure was premade but in the words of Ferris, if you have the means, I highly recommend it.  Get yours here.  I use clothespins to completely close it when I'm feeling really anti social.  Don't have the means?  You would rather build your own?  I appreciate industriousness, Sister Queen.  Get some ideas here, here and here.
Because . . .we may as well dream while we're in exile, Sisters.
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