#finally first class is up! đŸ„ł
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rewordthis · 11 months ago
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Hazy Outlines: an impromptu Saturday art class
Saturday, friends!
Class is starting, even if there are still some things not running smoothly
 I’m determined to do this anyway, so stick with me. Will overcome the obstacles together.
⚠ (Apologising in advance because heavy text post with no pictures is boring af, but pics wouldn’t load for whatever reasons
 Pff, bear with me, please. And if there’s anything you need to ask, please do! I’ll answer as quickly and as best to my ability! đŸ« )
Now I’ll be handing out your first ever practical exercise fliers!
Well, technically not, since you’ll excuse me for making you go search for a square or rectangular box in your home... as this is going to be your assignment for the week. 😎
Yeah
 you didn’t see that coming, I’m sure. Did I mention that this is a beginner’s exercises class?
I’ll need everyone participating in these classes to have a cube-like box or an object with 90° angles and straight corners and sides for this first exercise. It can be any material you got readily, any size (just
 please not a trunk or something
 😑) a box of tissues would suffice. As long as it is square/rectangular with clean corners (not curved) and with no texture.
Well go on! Go bring it— I’m waiting

You’ll have to place it in an angle and use a source of light coming from its left. You want it on the table while you sit down? You want it right in front of you, on your desk? You can put it on the damn floor for all I care— actually any weird angle will work better because the contrast will be greater
 — all I’m asking, is you put it in perspective.
Now, all you’ll have to do is to decide on a spot to sit. But! Before we begin, I’d like to give some guidelines for the way we’ll work. Let’s go:
1. First of all, we will talk about the grip.
When you’ll be holding your pencil, you’ll have to keep it tilted in an angle. Not entirely parallel on the paper, but having the tip to be near-flat on it. For this, you’ll have to find a grip that allows your arm to move freely.
We won’t draw anything the way we write. Writing is a different function we do with our wrists (small clean lines) and drawing a whole other one we do with our entire arms (faint, broad lines).
Find how you are more comfortable holding the pencil without having your fingers brushing on the paper. Most of the times, the standard way is to use the whole grip to hold the pencil; this is the overhand grip but it needs a lot of time to get used to it and it’s better for fairly big areas. Another way is the loose grip. In loose grip, you hold your pencil way back (from the middle of it usually) and have the butt of the pencil resting on your hand like when you normally write. Personally I have a fairly different way of holding my pencil which heavily depends on the area I work in every occasion, but I just keep it from the butt and swing it when I need to do object placement etc. and then switch in a more steady grip as I add details.
Make lines on the paper. Try it out and see how it weights on the paper and your hand and see which grip feels more comfortable for you. Ideally you’d have to spent at least a couple days trying deferent grips in order to find what works for you. Don’t rush with this
 it’s ok. The exercise is meant to be short so taking a few days off for this won’t have a negative impact. Quite the contrary, actually. đŸ€—
When you feel comfortable enough with your grip, make 6 boxes at one of your paper’s sides. Leave the first one blank. 👉 From boxes 2-6 fill the boxes with the pencils you have, starting from the bigger hardness. Aka, box 2: 2H hardness, 3: H hardness and so on. 👉 For the hardnesses you don’t have, use the closest hardness to fill, trying to keep deferent tones. For example; if you miss the 2H you’ll use the H with lighter strokes and then use it in its box adding one or two layers. Make sure there is a distinct deference in shade from box to box and keep the strokes facing the same direction. Think of it as the spectrum spread in shades of grey.
2. Now, it’s time to do the placing.
Observe the object and let’s try to measure it. In order to do that, you’ll use the tip of your pencil.
When you measure, you generally need to find a shape that is obvious to pick up, so you won’t miss your measurement later on if you forget it. 👉 Are there specific proportions by the object itself that you can use to divide it? This is the most preferable way, because you’ll learn to understand shapes. 👉 But, maybe there are shadows that create a clear division on it. This comes in volumes. 🔾 In any way, what you’ll do is to align your pencil over that shape — starting with the tip and at the end of it placing your fingernail to hold its length. After that, you move your pencil on the same axis to see how many times that shape fits into the object. Start either by the Y or X axis and once you find how many times it fits, try to divide your paper and fit the object on it by putting light marks for every division part and keeping it as centered as possible. Then proceed to do the same on the other axis.
👉 While doing this, hold your paper upright in front of you.
👉 Now it’s the time to connect the marks. This is the tracing phase so make as light marks and lines as possible! And as mentioned, draw the lines from your shoulder and elbow— not your wrist. The lines need to be continuous and decisive.
👉 When you finish tracing the object try to see if any side is bigger/smaller than what you see in reality.
After this stage, we’ll do the outline which will not be much darker because you’ll have to correct anything that is off. It can’t be perfect from the beginning, so keep in mind that you may need to measure again. You just need to define the line a bit more than before but it can’t be too bold. Correct the lines and begin to trace the outline. After that you’ll put in the shadows.
When you think that this is as good a transfer and positioning you’ve made as possible, we’ll start the shading process.
For the shading you’ll use as a guide the boxes we made at the beginning

3. How to shadow.
During this process you will start by the lighter shade which you will apply to the object. 👉 White parts (extreme brightness) will not be covered, so keep in mind to shade around that (there won’t be too many spots anyway) — you can always use the eraser if you go over something however, so fear not. 👉 Your first shade should be done in one direction. đŸ”ș Do NOT cross-hatch the shadows. They need to be smooth. 👉 Add the second layer of shadows with a small tilt of the tip towards a slightly different direction (clockwise or counter clockwise it doesn’t matter; we only need a change in degrees like the clock hands from 12 to 1 or 12 to 11); that’ll it be enough. 👉 Keep adding layers to your shadows by slightly adjusting the tip of the pencil until you reach the darkest shade (deep black shades will also be very small areas like the light ones).
Good job! You finished your first practical exercise. That wasn’t so bad now, was it?
đŸ”č This exercise is best done slowly, and by this I mean take your time with getting comfortable with the pencil and making smooth faded lines throughout the week. It shouldn’t take you more than an hour daily and mainly about 15— 20 minutes. The drawing itself should not take more than an hour. There are tutors that insist on practicing everyday and doing lots of practice and exercises
 😼‍💹 but you really don’t. Not yet. First you need to train your eyes and your hands into what drawing actually is and overdoing it in the beginning may lead to learning things incorrectly or feeling burned out.
Anyway

You have the whole week to make your first attempt at drawing something as closely to the real thing as you can. Try to recreate everything you see. The lines, the planes, the shadows on it, the shadows behind the object (I’m asking for the immediate background of the object so try to put it in front of something that is as plane as possible). 👉 If the object has too many colours/designs etc, cover it with something as plain as possible like a cloth. This’ll make it a little harder to draw, but you don’t want to be confused by anything more than shadows, volumes and shapes just yet.
đŸ”č You’re allowed to use only ONE paper. If you have a tablet, you can use that, too. This is you learning the basics after all, so feel free to present both your attempts.
đŸ”șDon’t exhaust yourself, though! Like I said, this is a 1hour☝exercise tops!
Now the technical stuff:
How this is going to work: ▶ first of all, take a picture of the object from the same angle you’re going to draw it, so I can evaluate your try and give you tips to work on the next assignment! I’m opting for a tailor-made tutorial because everybody is different. ▶ Then by the end of the week post the photo and your finished piece (the digital, too; if you do that) with either the specific tag or a mention at me. I want to see what you made!
There are no bad tries here, only things we’re going to learn and mistakes we’re going to fix!
Now, sketch! That’s it. That’s the exercise. Simple, right? :)
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snooyaki · 1 year ago
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ìŽì°Źì—° — BARISTA BOY ☂ CH. I
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a/n: my first ever written work on tmblr wooo đŸ„ł if this receives good feedback i’ll be willing to turn this into a series! hope you enjoy 💗
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‘DONT CRY 
 DONT CRY.’ anton repeated to himself, feeling the lump forming in his throat as his eyes couldn’t help but begin to grow glossy. having a full mental breakdown in the middle of brewing up a coffee for a costumer was not an option for the boy. anton sniffled, a shaky exhale releasing from his trembling lips as he finished off his cappuccino with his signature leaf art. what a sad looking leaf it was. anton took a deep exhale, placing the coffee cup down as he pushed it forwards against the counter. ‘speak
 you can do it..’
“o-order for minyoung?” anton’s delicate voice cracked.
the boy mentally cussed at himself, watching in fear as the scary woman he had encountered earlier stomped her way up to the counter, anton flinching with every clack of her heels. the woman’s sharp wrinkly eyes glared daggers at the anxious boy who couldn’t help but gulp at the sight.
“finally got my order right??” the woman’s icy tone spat, as anton quickly nodded his head. “y-yes maam
 i apologize again for the inconvenience
” anton managed to speak despite his heart rate going off the charts.
anton was having a shitty day.
the boy had woken up that morning and not a thing was going his way. he had slept through his alarm and missed his bus on the way to work, resulting in being scolded by his manager. he had burned himself on one of the steamers, causing a mug to fall and shatter. not to mention the rude customers. anton did not know what was going on today, as it seemed that everyone was not having a good day. especially him.
anton was an emotional boy, one who got overwhelmed easily. today was taking a toll on him. it was mentally and physically draining to contain his tears and his thoughts. he just needed to make it through the day, he kept telling himself.
“excuse me,”
anton paused, eyes widening slightly in realization. he had been staring down at the cash register lost in his thoughts as a customer was patiently waiting for him to come back to his senses. god he was embarrassed. could this day get any worse? the boy lifted his head, ready to apologize to the customer before his words got stuck in his throat at the sight before him.
“
 hi,” y/n smiled warmly, gazing up at anton with kind yet curious eyes. “you’re anton lee 
 right?” her soft voice rang out, a bright and comforting aura radiating off the girl.
anton stared at the girl in disbelief, the tips of his ears slowly beginning to turn a deep shade of red. out of all days his crush could have shown up at his work, it just had to be today? anton shook his head as he snapped back to his senses, a soft chuckle and forced smile came from the boy.
“yeah 
 yeah that’s me.” he spoke, rubbing the nape of his neck awkwardly, before meeting her gaze. “you’re y/n l/n 
 right?”
of course, anton knew who she was. everyone in their school knew who she was. y/n was a star student, known for her good grades, kind soul, and her beauty. it wasn’t a surprise that anton began crushing on y/n in the beginning of tenth grade after being in three out of the six classes a day for a whole year. it had all started the first day of school, when y/n had spoken to him for the first and the last time.
àł€
“excuse me!” a hurried voice spoke, catching anton’s attention as the boy curiously turned around, his gaze instantly shooting down. there she was, in all her glory.
y/n gazed up at the boy with a kind smile, holding out a familiar navy-blue notebook in front of the boy. “here, your notebook. you left it in the classroom.” she hummed, as anton’s eyebrows rose in surprise.
“oh 
” anton muttered, slowly taking the notebook from the girl, a small smile lifting on his lips.
anton could feel his heart beating out of his chest as he stared at her pretty smile. “thanks 
” he had managed to speak, before the girl had nodded her head.
“of course,” y/n smiled, before retreating to her friends. anton watched as she walked down the hallway, laughing and giggling with her friends. he watched her until she had disappeared in the large crowd of students.
“anton
?” sohee spoke, not snapping the boy out of his daydreams.
“anton
 why are you so red?!”
  àł€
although of course, anton had no intentions on pursuing her. y/n was way out of his league, or that’s what he believed. he was a silent admirer and planned on keeping it that way.
well, until today.
the girl nodded her head enthusiastically at anton’s question, delighted that he had remembered her name. “mhm! i didn’t know you worked here
 this is quite a famous coffee shop.” y/n chuckled softly in attempts to make small conversation with the quiet boy.
anton felt his heart skip a few beats at the sound of her melodic giggle, nibbling his lip anxiously before nodding his head. “ive been working here for a few months now
” anton spoke, his eyes not being able to trail away from the girl’s face as she scanned the menu. anton couldn’t get his eyes off her. it was like he was stuck in a trance, analyzing every feature on her face. her beauty marks, her hair, the way her eyes sparkled excitedly while deciding what she was going to drink.
“make me your favourite order here. i want to try something new.” y/n eagerly spoke, taking anton for surprise. he had never had a customer ask for that before, but he was willing to do it. especially for her.
anton finally gathered the courage to show a little smile, nodding his head in approval at her request. “sure. i’ll make you something good.” anton stated, earning an excited smile from the other.
anton didn’t know what was with him in that moment. he felt a surge of confidence rise. ‘its now or never 
’.
“it’s on me,” anton added, his eyes gazing down at his crush, watching as her expression quickly falter. anton rang it through the register before she was able to protest, chuckling at the sight of her shoulders falling in defeat.
“you didn’t have to do that anton
” y/n frowned, almost as if she was glaring at him in disappointment. anton looked down at the floor, a soft blush rising over his cheeks mentally preparing himself to meet her eyes again.
“but
 i wanted to.” anton managed to say, his eyes searching for a reaction from the girl.
anton swore he saw her blush. he swore by it, but the self-doubt was convincing him otherwise. he couldn’t tell if he was imagining things. “it’ll be ready at the end of the counter.” anton then added, snapping y/n out of her thoughts.
the girl then showed off her signature smile, letting out a breath she hadn’t even realized she had been holding in. “thank you anton.” she hummed.
anton’s day was suddenly, not so shitty anymore. he couldn’t help but smile as he made her order the whole time, silently giggling to himself as he thought. he talked to you. he had finally talked to you again. something he had been meaning to do for two years. it finally happened.
anton gazed down at the cup, focusing hard on the heart he hadn’t even realized he made on your latte, resulting in a soft blush when he came to his senses. anton grabbed a lid, placing it over the cup as he let out a soft exhale in preparation before making his way towards the end of the counter.
“order for y/n!” he called out, catching her attention.
y/n gazed up from her phone, shutting it off as she stuffed it into her jacket pocket. the girl then made her way over to anton, grabbing the cup from the shy boy. she examined the way he had written her name. ‘y/n ᔕ̈ ‘ it read in his hand writing. she felt like she could stare at it for days, as a smile began slowly spreading over her face. y/n gazed up at the boy, letting out a soft chuckle. “thank you again anton.” she beamed, as anton gazed down at his feet, flustered.
“of course, y/n.”
the two shared a soft gaze, both in a comfortable silence unable to rip their gazes away, until you had spoken up. “i’ll see you at school
” y/n spoke, not breaking eye contact with anton once before slightly hesitating her next words. “dont be a stranger.” she stated, watching as anton shook his head at the girl. “i wont.” he stated back.
anton watched as the girl then began making her way out of the coffee shop. it saddened him a bit, to see her leave, her figure slipping past the door. but after his encounter with you, he couldn’t have been happier. anton stood there, smiling like an idiot. there were hearts practically surrounding the boy in love.
maybe today wasn’t so bad after all.
— nari ÂšÌź
#ˋ à­šà­§ ˊTAGS !
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zepskies · 1 year ago
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Smoke Eater - Part 1
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Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 
Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 
That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   
AN: "Smoke eater": a self-appointed slang term for a firefighter.
Happy Hispanic Heritage Month!! đŸ„łâ€ïžâ€đŸ”„ You guys really warmed my heart with all the excitement for this story. I'm very happy to bring you the first chapter. I hope it doesn't disappoint! 😘
đŸ”„ Series Masterlist
Word Count: 4,000 Warnings: Tense situations, brief mention of claustrophobia, and a good old-fashioned meet cute.
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Part 1: "Class and Style"
Come on, come on, come on!
The toe of your heeled foot tapped on the floor as you, once again, waited for the elevator to make its slow climb back up to the 22nd floor.
In your hand was a tray carrying two steaming lattes: one small, plain hazelnut, and the other a venti caramel frappe with all the sugary bells and whistles. Complete with extra whipped cream, because your boss was a goddamn child.
I shouldn’t even be getting his coffee, you thought sourly. This is his assistant’s job!
And if this elevator didn’t climb any faster, having to stop at Starbucks during your meager lunch break for your boss’s morning fix would make you late for a very important sales meeting.
“Let’s go, Betsy. Come on,” you muttered. “You can do it.”
Yes, you’d named the contraption that usually managed to carry you all the way to your correct floor. When she wasn’t broken down for maintenance. 
The four walls of the narrow elevator shook and creaked as it cleared the 20th floor. You inhaled sharply, but resisted the urge to grab the inner guardrail. This thing was old, just like the rest of the building.
But then, Betsy screeched and made an abrupt stop.
You were woefully unprepared. You slid in your heels and gasped—both at the jolt, and at the hot lattes tipping out of your hand and down your blouse and skirt.
Shit!
You didn’t even have time to wince at the scalding hot coffee, as you nearly rolled an ankle in the spillage. Luckily, you were able to grab at that guardrail. You sucked in relatively even breaths as you realized what happened

The elevator stopped, but not on your floor.
“Oh, God
” you uttered, staring up at the red, digital “21” above the metal doors. It was blinking, but not moving. Just like you weren’t moving. Which meant
you were stuck.
Okay, not a big deal. You’re fine, you thought, trying to calm yourself. All you had on you was your phone, your ID, and your credit card. You’d decided to leave your purse in your desk, since you were just walking across the street.
But that was okay! Because you still had your phone

“No service. Of course,” you muttered, raising your phone high to try and get a bar. This elevator was a dead zone, and it always had been. Fucking hell

So you did the only thing you could think of.
You shouted for help.
You pressed the emergency alarm, several times.
You could hear it blare and echo outside of the chamber of the elevator, but no one seemed to hear you. Your work building was huge, made up of several departments and hundreds of employees here at Savage & Co. There was always plenty going on, especially in the middle of the morning.
Maybe no one could hear you.
“All right. Don’t
don’t panic,” you told yourself. Even though your heart was beginning to pound.
You finally pressed the “Call” button outlined in red. You didn’t know if it worked; half the floor buttons on the console didn’t even light up anymore.
But to your relief, the sound of a phone line ringing echoed through the small speaker. After a few rings, someone answered.
“Fire Department.”
“Oh, God. Yes!”
With a hand on the rail, you managed to kneel down next to the speaker. Your free hand brushed a strand of hair away from your dewy face. There was no AC in here, and you were starting to sweat. Thankfully, the rest of your hair was pulled up into a clip.
“I’m stuck in one of the oldest elevators known to man,” you told the disembodied voice.
“Sorry to hear that. What’s your name?”
You gave them your name, along with the address of your company’s building. The voice promised that they were dispatching a until to come and get you out soon.
“How soon is soon?” you asked.
“
About forty-five minutes, give or take.”
Jesus Christ.
You baked inside Betsy for close to an hour. While your makeup slowly melted, you found a corner of the ground that wasn’t covered by a coffee puddle, and you pressed the alarm button at random intervals. Still, no one seemed to hear it. You used the empty coffee tray to try and fan yourself.
Your phone was also useless. You tucked that along with your credit card into your bra for safe keeping. You’d definitely missed your meeting about the prospective Zimmerman account—one you and your coworker Josh were competing to nail down, as the top performers in the sales department. You couldn’t even catch up on your emails.
Damn it, Nick’s gonna chew my head off, you thought. But then you frowned, your brows furrowing. Well, it’s his fault for not maintaining this damn building. And for ordering a damn caramel frappe! What is he, a 12-year-old girl?
Your skirt was still sticky on the side. With a sigh, you leaned your head back against the metal wall and closed your eyes. Ah, well. At least I’m not claustrophobic.
“Fire Department!” called a man’s voice from above. “Can you hear me down there?”
You gasped and opened your eyes. Your gaze raised heavenward, and you called out to the voice.
“Hello?!”
“Ah, we found you. You okay, ma’am? Are you hurt?”
“Y-Yes
” You shook your head, even though he couldn’t see it. “I mean, no. I’m not hurt.”
“Good. That’s what I like to hear,” he said. “You’re stuck between two floors, but we’re gonna get you out, all right?”
“Okay.” You sucked in a shaky breath and grabbed the rail so you could get back onto your feet. “I’m stuck on the 21st floor right?”
“Well, in between 21 and 22. Hold on one sec.”
 You stood there with bated breath, just waiting for something to happen. You heard tools whirring, felt the elevator shutter for a moment, but it didn’t budge. Until you heard a thump on the roof. You looked up, but of course you couldn’t see what was happening.
Until a square patch in the roof was unscrewed and drawn back, revealing a firefighter in almost all his gear: wearing a gray shirt tucked into navy pants, red suspenders, black boots and gloves. All he was missing was a jacket and a hardhat.
He did wear a harness, and he held another one in his gloved hand, as well as a charming, almost boyish grin on his face.
“There you are,” he greeted.
You didn’t know if it was the lack of AC, or his ridiculously handsome features, but you felt your face heat up further.
“Uh, hi,” you said, very eloquently. You offered a smile back. “Thanks for the rescue.”
“Well, we haven’t gotten there yet, but we will,” he said, still with that grin as he lowered the second harness down to you. “I’m Dean. What’s your name?”
You gave it to him as you took the harness.
“Nice to meet you, despite the circumstances,” he said. “I’m sure you didn’t have this on your bingo card today, did ya?”
You snorted in response. “Not even in my fortune cookie.”
It earned an amused look from him. Then he proceeded to instruct you on how to put the harness on around your waist and shoulders and clip the straps together.
“Okay, good. Now tug it, make sure it’s tight enough,” Dean said, motioning with his hand. You obliged him.
“Perfect.” He nodded, before crouching down and lowering his hands through the compartment. “All right, now. Just take my hands. I’m gonna pull you up.”
You looked up at him, then and at the narrow escape hatch with uncertainty.
“It’s okay,” he said, noting your reluctance (and your white-knuckle grip on the guardrail). “It’s perfectly safe.”
“Yeah, I doubt anything about this situation is safe,” you replied wryly. You glanced at the elevator’s metal walls. Even now, they groaned under Dean’s shifting weight.
“I mean, I’m sure you’re strong and all,” you said, with a vague gesturing hand at him. You couldn’t quite tell from your limited vantage point, but Dean could barely fit his broad shoulders through the hole he’d opened up. He was probably a big guy.
Still, you didn’t like the idea of your legs dangling in mid-air. 
“I’m a woman, but I’m still a full-grown person,” you said, your brows beginning to furrow in worry. “People are heavy, and this thing is rickety as hell, and that’s a really tiny window
”
“All right,” Dean gently interrupted. He looked like he was trying hard not to chuckle, and you didn’t appreciate it
even though you were biting your lip, trying not to smile too (more in embarrassment).
“I promise you, the line’s got you,” he said. And he tugged on the sturdy rope that connected to your harness.
His eyes met yours directly, firm and assuring. They were green, you noticed, even in this fluorescent lighting.
“More importantly, I’ve got you. And there’s no way I’m gonna let you fall,” he said, with what seemed like every conviction in the world. “Just take my hands.”
He leaned in further so you could reach him.

And damn it, you believed him.
Staring into his eyes, you found the courage to suck in a deep breath and release the guardrail. You reached up and let his hands curl tightly around yours. You gripped him right back.
“All right, pull up!” he called back over his shoulder.
You couldn’t see them, but you heard the voices of other firefighters as they slowly retracted Dean’s harness line as well as yours. When he was able to plant his feet on the roof of the elevator again, you held your breath as he pulled you all the way up as well.
You lost a heel along the way though. It fell off your foot and hit the bottom of the elevator below.
“Woops,” Dean said. His arms wrapped around you, and he held you securely against him when your heel (and bare foot) also met the elevator roof, a bit awkwardly. You both peered back down through the square hole.
“Want me to get that for you?” he offered, with another one of those grins.
Now you knew you were blushing. Stop it!
You shook your head as you clung to his arms. You felt the strength in them, and it steadied you, along with the easy way about him that said he was more than comfortable with the perils of rescuing trapped women from old-ass elevators.
“Don’t even worry about it,” you told him. “I just want to get the hell out of here.”
Dean chuckled then. “I hear ya. Let’s go, then.”
He glanced up and called out to a “Benny” and a “Gordon.” You assumed they were the men securing the harnesses that held you and Dean.
“Okay. You ready, sweetheart?” Dean asked.
“Yeah,” you replied with a nod, even as you bit your lip again at the endearment. Usually when men called you sweetheart, (like your boss), it was like nails on a damn chalkboard.
But somehow, it didn’t seem so sleezy coming from the charming fireman.
You craned to looked up at his face. He was much taller than you, even with half your heels. Dean met your eyes again, and for a moment, you were tense. The elevator shaft was dark and cold, but the light from the open doors of the floor above allowed you to see his face, decorated lightly with stubble, and his brown hair that spiked to one side.
Your mouth parted, though you didn’t have a clue of what to say next

You were saved when the lines went even more taut, and the firefighters on the floor above brought you and Dean all the way up to the 22nd floor. He helped you reach out to a bearded fireman, who supported your arms and carried you out of the elevator shaft, onto solid ground.
A small crowd had formed in the lobby. Zachariah the CFO was there, along with the building manager, and your friend Andréa, who looked both worried and relieved to see you. And even your boss, Nick, came forward to meet you once Benny and Dean helped you take off the harness.
“You’ve had a busy morning,” Nick drawled.
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “You could say that.”
Technically, he was everyone’s boss: Nick Savage, CEO of Savage & Co. He’d inherited the company from his father. However, Nick believed his one sad year of college business classes made him an expert on running your sales department with a firm hand.
“Well, it’s good to see you’re all right,” he said. Though his eyes glanced down your stained, white blouse, down to your bare foot. His gaze made your spine prickle. And not in a good way.
You crossed your arms on reflex. “I know I missed the meeting—”
“We recorded it. You’ll be able to watch it later, take notes, all that good stuff,” he said, his head tilting in that lazy way of his. He gestured at you with a finger. “But, uh
once you’re done cleaning up, think you could nip back out and get me that coffee? Since, you know, you’re kind of wearing it.”
Behind you, the team of firefighters discreetly watched the scene while packing up their gear—some with curiosity and bemusement, others (namely Dean) with a subtle frown.
You were livid.
But you managed to keep it down, just beneath your skin, as you bent down and took off your remaining heel.
“I’m requesting the afternoon off as personal time,” you informed him with (mostly) all due professionalism. There was a fire in your eyes, however, that not even you could tame.
“But don’t worry,” you said. “I’ll still land the Zimmerman account by Friday.”
You turned and dropped your shoe into a nearby garbage can. You didn’t want to be reminded of your boss every time you saw the coffee stains.
Before you left, you stopped in front of Dean and the other firefighters.
“Thank you very much for all your help,” you said, giving them all a smile. Your gaze lingered on Dean, who smiled back at you and nodded, his hands resting on his belt.
“You got it, sweetheart.”
Your lips twitched. Then you continued on your way towards the exit door, to the stairwell. You shoved it open and walked bare-footed up to your office to get your purse. 
You’d left Nick silently fuming in the middle of the hall. You knew there wasn’t too much he could do with an entire crowd of witnesses.
He soon huffed and let your behavior roll off his back, as he became distracted by Zachariah and the building manager asking about the last time the elevator was properly serviced.
Meanwhile, Dean and Benny shared an amused look as their team rolled out.
Damn, Dean thought, remembering how you’d stopped in your little storm out, just to thank them. And how you’d held your head high as you walked away on bare feet.
He could admit, you had both class and style.
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“Really, Grandpa. I’m fine,” you insisted.
Now in the comfort of your own home, and in your pajamas after a nice hot shower, you stirred a pot of chicken soup for your Grandpa George. He eyed you from the kitchen table with a measure of suspicion.
“Well, it’s lucky for you we’ve got a responsive Fire Department,” he said. “In the sleepy little town I grew up in, you’d be lucky if the whole damn building didn’t cave in before somebody got to ya.”
You shot him an amused look.
“Thanks. Makes me feel better about stepping into an elevator ever again.”
George seemed to consider the prospect, but he soon waved a vague hand.
“Ah, you’ll be fine,” George said, waving a hand. “Even if one of the cables snapped, you’d have three more holdin’ you up. And it should only need one cable to support the compartment, make sure the whole thing doesn’t fall to the damn ground.”
Your grandfather had been a technician for sixty years, so he knew a little thing about commercial building maintenance. However, right now, he wasn’t making you feel any better about your somewhat perilous experience. You paled a bit at the thought of cables snapping, leading to a long, Tower of Terror-style drop.
Except there’d be nothing to catch you at the bottom.
“It’s okay. I’ll just start walking up all 22 floors up to my office every day,” you said, smiling wryly. “I’ll finally have thighs like Wonder Woman.”
George laughed, though it soon ended on a cough. You eyed him with a frown as you ladled out a bowl of soup for him. You went over to him, both to set down the bowl in front of him and rub his back.
“Still with that cough. I don’t like it,” you said. “I’m making an appointment with your doctor.”
George shook his head and grabbed his glass of water.
“Just something caught in my throat.”
“Mhmm,” you replied. He was the absolute king of downplaying. It used to drive your grandma nuts.
You sighed and raised a hand to your forehead. An ache was building behind your eyes. Or maybe it had been there since you left work early today, and you were just now realizing how tightly wound your spine was.
“You okay?” George asked. You read the concern in his eyes and tried to relax your face from its scrunching.
“Yeah. Just a tension headache.”
“Hmm. Maybe you should spend less time worrying about me, and more time taking care of yourself,” he pointed out. “You had a stressful day. Why don’t you go relax? Or better yet, go out! Go see your friends. Get in a bar fight. Something productive.”
A grin curved your lips as you raised a brow.
“A bar fight would make me more productive?”
George grinned up at you. “Well, at least it’d get you out of the house.”
You pursed your lips. There was a reason you didn’t go out very often, and your grandfather knew it. You were the only one who could watch out for him now, even if he didn’t think he needed it. Your mouth opened to reply, but before you could, your cell phone rang through the house.
For a moment, the two of you stared at one another. Until George raised his brows.
“You should get that, huh?” he said.
You narrowed your eyes at him, despite your small smile, and you raised a finger as you went to get your purse over in the living room.
“We’re not done, old man,” you said over your shoulder.
“Oh, believe me. I know,” he grumbled, delving into his soup with a spoon.
Meanwhile, you fished your phone out of your purse and answered. A genuine, if tired smile graced your lips. It was your best friend, Andréa. She worked with you at Savage & Co., over in Marketing as a graphic designer.
As fate would have it, the two of you were hired on the same day five years ago. She’d invited you to lunch that day, and from then on, you two had been rocking through corporate life like Thelma and Louise—if Thelma had been a Greek artist and Louise had been a sarcastic saleswoman. 
“Hey, Dre,” you greeted.
“Hello, my love. Congratulations for surviving your near-death experience, and getting to serve Nick Savage a bit of humble pie,” she teased. “I thought you were going to lobby your Prada heel at his head.”
You huffed and plopped down on the couch with your feet up on the coffee table.
“First of all, let’s not be too dramatic. I was stuck in an elevator, not a Chilean mine shaft,” you said wryly. “Second, you really think I would throw away Prada? Even if it was coffee stained
 Those were just my $30 Steve Maddens.”
And yet, they had been your most comfortable heels. Maybe you should just find some sensible flats in the back of your closet and be done with it. But you liked the height and confidence that a nice pair of heels gave you—especially in that office filled with “Mad Men” wannabes.
Every male on your sales team thought he was Jon Hamm in a room full of George Costanzas.
Nick Savage was the worst out of all of them.
You dealt with it, however, and sometimes even thrived on being the only woman on the team. Mostly because you needed your job.
It paid well enough, but most of it went into the upkeep of your grandparents’ old house, and for the past few years, their extensive medical bills

“Still, at least you got a Mission Impossible-style rescue out of it,” said AndrĂ©a. Her tone turned both leading and flirtatious. “Tell me you got that fireman’s number. Dear God Almighty, what a Grade-A Hottie.”
You chortled through your blush at remembering Dean, the firefighter who saved you. You could admit, he’d been one fine specimen of a man.
“Grade-A Hottie. What are we, in middle school?” you retorted. “Besides, he was just doing his job.”
“Ugh, you’re so pragmatic it hurts,” your friend lamented. “You really need to live a little, while you’re still hot and firm.”
You laughed fully at that one. “Yeah, I think taking the stairs from now on will help with the ‘firm’ bit.”
Just like the strength of the firefighter’s hold had been. You’d felt entirely secure after he’d pulled you up on the elevator roof. His arms had reassured you even more than the harness, if you thought about it. (And your face heated up further at said thought.)
“I do wish I could say thank you again, somehow,” you mused out loud, not really thinking about who exactly you were talking to.
“Oh, yeah?” AndrĂ©a said. You could practically hear her mischievous grin. It made you slightly nervous. “Well, it’s not unheard of for a grateful civilian to stop by a firehouse. You could bring him lunch or something!”
“Ah, I don’t know about that,” you said. Your instinct was to withdraw inward at the thought of putting yourself out there like that. Besides, you didn’t want to bother him while he was at work.
“What’re you talking about? Firefighters love food! Believe me, my cousin Meg is a paramedic,” AndrĂ©a said. Then she gasped. “Oh, girl. I have the perfect idea for you. Why don’t you bake something for the whole firehouse? That way it takes some of the pressure off, but you still get to see him.”
You became more contemplative then.
Bake something, huh?
Now, that you could do. Andréa knew all too well that the one thing that could get your gears turning was getting your apron on, as baking was your ultimate hobby. It made you feel creative, and damn-near stress free

And her idea wasn’t too shabby, the more you thought about it. It was something kind that you knew you could do. And more than anything, you really did just want to say thank you, one more time.
You smiled.
“Okay. I think we have a plan.” However, your smile soon fell. “Wait, I have no idea what firehouse he works at.”
“Hmm, my cousin might know,” AndrĂ©a said. “Let me reach out to her
what’s his name again?”
“Dean,” you replied. Another small smile reached your lips, against your will.
“His name was Dean.”
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AN: Ah, the first chapter! Launching a new story is always so exciting! đŸ„° What did you think of the reader and Dean's first meeting?
Also, feel free to imagine Mark Pellegrino's "Nick" for this (I am). He didn't have a last name on the show, so I created one for this story, as he's going to be an important antagonist throughout.
And just so you guys know, my knowledge of the inner workings of fire departments and law enforcement will largely come from my own research and being a huge fan of procedurals, like Chicago Fire, Chicago Med, Law & Order, etc.
Yes, aspects are fictionalized on those shows, but a lot of it is rooted in real-life protocol and stories. All the love and respect for creator/executive producer Dick Wolf. 😂
...Oh, and the elevator scene was inspired by true events. (Yes, I've been stuck in an elevator before. đŸ«  Two ridiculously hot firefighters pulled me out, but by then I was melting from the lack of AC, had no makeup, and was dressed like a female!Dean, plaid and all lmao.)
Anywho...
Next Time:
“Protect and serve,” Dean teased back. “That’s our motto, you know.”
“Isn’t that for police officers?” you quipped.
He chuckled a bit. “Hey, if the shoe fits.”
“Well
” you considered that with a tilt of your head, more seriously than he expected you to. You met him with a more earnest gaze. “I think it does.”
Right then, Dean had a feeling, deep in his gut, that he needed to know you.
Keep Reading: PART 2
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Dean Winchester Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Series Tag List:
Due to Tumblr's dumb 50-only tag rule, I'm tagging the rest of you in a reblog. 😘
@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91
@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19
@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420
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pixxiies · 8 months ago
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anything for an A+ .
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pairing ;; professor!matt x student!fem!oc
warnings ;; SMUTTTTđŸ€žđŸ€ž , age gap (matt is 27 reader is 22), cursing , making out , oral (m receiving) , p in v , fingering , unprotected sex (pls dont!!) , pet names (princess, sweetheart, etc) , lowercase intended and thats it!
a/n ;; pls bare w me im too shy to write on here but first smut post i hope yall likey!!! this is for my baby kitten whiskers; @mattsluttywaist and @cheetahmadi đŸ„łđŸ„ł also this looked better in drafts
pink: you
blue: matt
. . . . .
“remember, no talking during the test.” was what pulled me out of the trance that i was in. i blinked as i noticed that i was staring at my professor for the entire time he talked about the test we were about to take. professor matthew was walking around the class to give everyone the papers.
“if i catch you talking, i will invalidate your test.” i let out a loud sigh as he placed the paper infront of me, remembering me of the last time that i accidentally spoke during an exam and it led me to get a zero. “yes sir.” i picked up my pencil from my pencil case and started to write my name.
a few hours felt like 10 minutes when my professor said that time was up. i looked down at my test for it not to be completed. “fuck.” i mumbled under my breath. my fingers flipped through the pages to see how many questions i had left. many students had started to walk down to the professors desk to turn it in, soon i was the last student in the class.
“ms. stallord, i said time was up.” he spoke, walking up to my desk. i groan and slouch into my chair. “sir, please is it okay if i finish this after school? i cant afford to fail.” i pout as i looked up at him, his arms crossed with his sleeves rolled up. the brunette shook his head, trying to think of something.
“lets do this.” matt said as he grabbed the packet of paper and walked back to his desk, signaling for me to follow him. i swallowed the lump in my throat while walking close enough to him that i could smell his cologne.
i watched him sit down in his desk and taking out what i assumed was the packet with the answers. the classroom remained quiet for a few minutes, the brunette probably grading what i had done. “C-“ he finally spoke up. i roll my eyes and let out a frustrated whine. “seriously??” matt took off his glasses, “its still passing.” he shrugged. i bit my bottom lip and let it bounce back as i thought. “is there anything i can do at all for extra credit?” i asked, tilting my head to the left and taking a seat next to his desk matt let his glasses on top of his head and pressed his fingers against his mouth. “hmmm, not that i know of, i dont think there is sweetheart.” he replied calmly. my heart skipped a beat as he called me sweetheart in such a way. “i would do anything sir. i cant have my mom know i got a C- on this exam.” i was practically begging at this point. “you got that grade because you didn’t finish the test, probably because you were looking at me. that correct?” he asked me, his head tilting to the side with a cocky smirk spread on his lips. i blinked rapidly when i heard what he had said. but to make it worse, he wasn’t lying. i wasn’t even looking, i was staring. “s-sorry what sir?” i muttered quickly. “you really don’t think i notice ms. stallord?” he chuckled a little bit. i stayed quiet, my cheeks a pink hue.
“now that i pointed it out, you stay silent huh?” matthew stated, his eyebrow raised ever so slightly. “no thats not it um.” i spoke quietly. “i don’t really mean to stare its just that uhm. you are very attractive.. sir.” the sentences left my mouth in a sheepish shaky tone. he laughed quietly to my embarrassment. “dont worry about it. i dont mind.” the brunette said, adjusting his seat so he was closer to me now. god i wanted to kiss him so bad. “o-oh okay, im glad sir.” i replied quietly, my eyes flickering to his lips and my tongue licking my lips to rehydrate them. “please, call me matt.” he mumbled, looking at my eyes then my lips. i listened to my gut and leaned in for a kiss, surprisingly getting one from him back.
my eyes fluttered shut, my heart pounding against my chest as my hands found their way to his loose brunette locks that i messed with slightly. matt nibbled on my bottom lip before sliding his tongue into my mouth. i whined softly, now somehow getting ontop of his lap. my legs were now wrapped around his hips and my hands rested on his shoulders. goosebumps covered each piece of skin matt had been touching. i felt one of his hands slide underneath my shirt, i shivered slightly at how cold his hand actually was.
his mouth detached from mine and he started to leave wet open mouthed kisses along my jawline and neck. small moans come out of my mouth as he did so, my hand trailed up to his head and i started to scratch his scalp gently. “will this make up the C-, sir?” i asked in an innocent tone as i looked down at him. “if you kneel for me, perhaps.” matt whispered, letting go of my hips and resting his hands back on the arm rests. i smirked with an obedient nod as i slid off of his lap and in between his legs. i kneeled in between his clothed thighs, my hands sliding up and down on them softly. i unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants down and threw them somewhere in the classroom.
matt was left in his light grey boxers that had a small dark stain from his pre-cum on them. my fingers hooked around the waistband of his boxers and i pulled them down. his 7.4in slapped my face lightly as soon as i took off his boxers.
my mouth began to practically drool as soon as i saw him fully. i wrapped my cold palm around his base firmly and stroked him slowly. i made sure to make my thumb slide right through his slit.
“fuckk.” he whined, looking down at me. i looked up at him with innocent doe eyes as my hand began to stroke him up and down a bit more quicker now. i kissed his tip before taking him entirely in my mouth.
i felt his hand turn down to my hair, he grasped it and made it into a makeshift ponytail. my tongue slid over the head of his cock as i bopped my head up and down. i heard a string of swears pouring out of matt’s name while he began to thrust his ups upward. “fuck fuck yes yes.” the brunette groaned out. he started to twitch in my mouth which told me that he was getting close. soon enough, he spewed his cum down my throat. his cock left my mouth with a wet pop. i rubbed off any of his white liquid that was on my mouth. “you did so well.” he purred, i kissed his tip one last time and earning a small whine from him.
i stood back up and before i could say anything, he grabbed me and sat me down on his lap. “oh princess im not done with you.” the brunette said, placing his hands on my hips. my core was begging for any sort of friction.
matt’s hand slid underneath my skirt, his thumb rubbed over my clothed clit gently. a small whine left my lips as i tried to balance myself by having my hands on his shoulders. he hooked his slender fingers on my panties and he pushed them to the side. “your so wet already sweetheart.” he cooed, his fingers tracing my entrance. “dont tease.” i begged with my eyes fixating onto his face. matt tilted his head to the side as he slowly shoved his digits inside of my cunt.
his fingers slid easily in and out of me, they curled against my g-spot occasionally. i bit my bottom lip to hold back my small whimpers as i clenched around him. “oh shit.” i breathed out, my head leaning back slightly. matt thrusted his fingers in and out while the familiar knot started to form in my stomach. his slender digits continued to stab my pussy, but before i could finish on them he slid them out. “why’d you stop?” i pout with a small whimper. “not letting you finish just yet sweetheart.” matt spoke softly as he aligned his tip with my cunt.
before anything else, he slowly thrusted into me. as soon as he was inside of me, i made sure to squeeze around him perfectly. “tell me when i can move.” the brunette whispered so i could get a chance to adjust to his size. matt’s finger tips grazed my hips gently, his eyes fixated on my face. “o-okay.” a shaky moan left my lips. with no hesitation, he started to thrust in and out of me.
i leaned my head back when his tip kissed my sweet spot within every thrust. matt rested his hands against my hips a bit more roughly as he rutted his hips into mine. god he was so deep inside of me. i guess i was being a little bit too loud that caused matt to shove two of his fingers down my throat. “gotta be quiet baby.” he whispered, still plunging himself into my wet core. i coated his digits with my salvia, using the opportunity to do so. “m’so close sir.” i whine out when matt slid his fingers out of my mouth. his tip stabbed my cervix a few more times before the knot in my stomach started to form again. i felt him twitching inside of me, letting me know that he was about to cum again. “cum for me sweetheart.” he moaned out as his hips began to stutter into mine.
after a few more thrusts, i came all over his cock. it wasn’t too long before matt came deep inside of me ether. he fucked me through our high before he pulled himself out. “so, can i get an A+ now?” i asked with a small smirk spread on my face. “yes, you can sweetheart.”
. . . . .
a/n part 2: i started writing this at 4am and i finished at 4pm 😭😭 sorry if this isnt that good i hate writing fics publicly 😕
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hearts4skywalker · 1 year ago
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ABSENTMINDEDLY // daniel larusso
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masterlist!!
summary: daniel n you are studying he makes it impossible to focus on studying
parings: daniel larusso and you!!
warnings: straight fluff, slight language, i think i used feminine pronouns im so so so sorry, inspired by fearless tv đŸ«¶
a/n: im going to the outsiders museum tomorrow đŸ„ł
w/c: about 900
y/n l/n had never really been exceptionally good at history. she found it a total snooze fest. she was constantly sleeping in that class. she made good grades in all of her other subjects. history and her just couldn't click.
she had no clue what to do until her boyfriend, daniel larusso, made a comment on his few recent one hundreds in history. he was the perfect solution. he always is.
so that's what led y/n to awkwardly standing outside of daniel's class, waiting for him to finally leave the room. he was a slow walker. daniel wasn't paying attention to where he was going so when she waved a hand in his face, he jumped back, surprised. his face lit up when he realized who was in front of him. he pulled her in for a tight hug, pulling back after a few seconds.
his face finally registered after a moment. "y/n? what are you doing here? your history class is on the other side of the build-" he furrowed his brows, stopping his sentence midway. y/n gave him a smile, when he realized why she was here. "nope. nu uh. not going to happen." daniel turned his head from her.
y/n frowned. "daniel please. this is the last time i promise." she pleaded with daniel, practically begging. daniel shook his head no. "we never actually study. you get caught up in telling me about that tex movie you like so much. and as much as i love you, it's a no." daniel began walking towards y/n's next class, knowing she would follow.
and y/n did follow him. she followed him hopelessly. she looked like a lost puppy. "please daniel," she dragged the letters out in his name. "if i don't pass this unit test i'll be grounded. and then we can't hangout." she bargained with him. daniel exhaled slowly. he let out a long sigh before turning around to face her. "fine. i'll help you study. but if we don't actually end up studying, i'll never help you study again. okay?" y/n gave him a big smile. the first bell rang when they got to her history class. "come over at six, m'kay?" she planted a small kiss on his cheek. daniel nodded, a smile spread across his face.
so thats how we got here. y/n was tidying up her room, putting the last of her clothes away. she always made it a point to have her room clean when daniel came over. she had just changed out of the sweatshirt and jeans she wore to school and into a t-shirt and shorts when she heard a knock at the door. she walked out of her room and down the stairs to go let daniel in.
when she opened the door, daniel was staring back at her, a smile on his face. he had on his red hoodie with black sweatpants. one of the straps from his backpack sat comfortably on one of his shoulders. y/n grabbed his hand, pulling him in excitedly. she softly closed the door behind them. still holding his hand, she took him upstairs to her room.
daniel sat his backpack down on the floor while y/n closed the door behind him. daniel grabbed his history homework out of his bag, sitting down on one side of her bed. y/n sat next to him, her homework already sitting out.
she tried her hardest to comprehend what daniel was explaining, but world war one was so boring to her. she stared at daniel, acting like she was paying attention. in reality, she was admiring him. she watched how his hair bounced every time he stirred a little. she watched his eyes focus on reading the words on the worksheet before the sentence came out of his lips.
she couldn't stop staring at his lips. she wanted to kiss him. she wanted to be done with history. it wasn't that important in life. she was thinking long and hard about if she would actually use history in the future. then her mind went back to daniel. daniel and his soft brown hair. daniel and his passion for karate. how good of a kisser he was. how he was even willing to study after all the times she wasn't focusing on the work.
"y/n? are you even listening?" daniel turned to face her. y/n laughed a little, shaking her head no. daniel couldn't help but smile himself. sure it was frustrating, but she was his girlfriend. his sweet, funny, girlfriend. he started laughing himself.
the room was full of laughter. daniel thought he would die from how much he was laughing. the laughter soon died out. daniel looked at y/n, who was already staring at him. he let out a sigh. "who gives a shit about history anyways." he gave her a smile before planting a soft and quick kiss on her lips. y/n did not appreciate how soon he pulled away. she gently grabbed his face, kissing him again.
who cares about studying anyways?
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eternalfics · 10 months ago
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hii, can i request a saiki x gn!reader who can change fate? ty! :3
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saiki x gn!reader who can change fate
a/n: like I said on 2 hc posts ago, I kinda left my requests in my inbox, so if u made a request it’s kinda gonna take a while since u got 2-4 in front of you..
summary: saiki with a reader who can change the future and stuff! đŸ„ł
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HOW YOU GUYS MET
when you guys first met, you guys were paired up for a school trip. it was.. decent, slightly awkward but it was fine! you were going to get through this with this quiet, silent man. of course you could have changed partners, but you decided to see how life is without your powers! (which was going.. well đŸ„Č)
(this is based on s1 ep 12 btw)
when you guys got at the airport, everyone was so excited! of course, saiki looked the same. maybe he’s one of those people with a rbf? 😇
but all of a sudden, just one announcement about the flight getting delayed and the class looks like zombies. people who were jumping around had their heads on their hands.
yumehara had a lot of snacks in her bag? but now you could just see her blank expression and her stuffing them in her face.. not even hairo could have cheered them up. maybe you could just have a cheat day?
yeah that would sound good. all of sudden, the tv showed that the hurricane is gone! somehow, everyone’s back in a good mood. who knew that a trip could make everyone depressed? everyone’s better, but that guy who you were paired up with saki- sekai? saiki! yeah him, it seems that he’s looking at you. do you think he knows?
HEADCANONS
when saiki needs help or suspects something, your the first person he goes to! I mean, who else would he go to?
I’m just gonna assume that saiki already knows that you can change fate and you already knows that he has psychic powers!
out of all of the psychics in their class, saiki would say your the best one. well, your kinda not a psychic but your the best one he works with 😋
sometimes when your feeling playful or mischievous, you like to threaten saiki when he’s in certain situations😈
“what happened?”
“I finally got away from teruhashi. I swear nobody leaves me alone these day-“
“gimmethat200yenthatyouowemeori’llmakehercomeback,”
“..let’s talk about thi-“
sometimes saiki likes to annoy you too! it’s a playful relationship. but that dosen’t mean that you guys aren’t serious at times
overall, maybe your not a nuisance after all 😘
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mystwrites · 8 months ago
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hi congrats on 200 followers!! đŸ„ł
May I request Lee! Megumi and ler! Gojo? (JJK) And the sentence starter shall be 🍉! And the activity 🎼 (video games)
Tysm! And be sure to stay hydrated!!
200 Followers Event is still open! (🍉&🎼 are no longer an option now)
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With Nobara and Maki both sick, there was no way they all were going to get together for another training day having all been in close contact the day prior. With Yuji and Inumaki also feeling slightly under the weather and no training or classes, the group all decided to check out a new game they heard of.
“Alright! Last Train Out of Wormtown! Let’s go!” Yuji exclaimed.
“Who’s the worm?” Nobara asked.
“Looks like Inumaki and I are the worms.” Maki said.
“Tuna!” Inumaki added.
“Great! Let’s go!” Megumi concluded, the game in full swing.
The graphics were horrible in Megumi’s opinion. It all looked poorly done but he also thought that the overall idea of gathering coal to get the train up and running, blowing up train cars blocking the tracks and trying to survive against sand worms was intriguing.
After fifteen minutes of playing, the game was actually rather fun. Megumi loved the thrill of nearly getting eaten by the sand worms and having to escape if the worm caught his character. The others also were having fun, laughing whenever they juked Maki or Inumaki in the process.
Absorbed in the game, Megumi didn’t comprehend Gojo who had been doing his rounds and checking in on all the students. One of his biggest mistakes had always been not locking his door ever since Yuji and Nobara began to barge in at random hours.
Megumi flinched, realizing someone had put their hands on his shoulders. Letting out a gasp, he took off his headset and whipped around, met with Gojo’s smiling face. Grumbling, Megumi put his headset back on and turned back to his game.
“Guys
I got a problem.” Megumi said into his headset. “I have a SG (Satoru Gojo) over my shoulder.”
“Who ya talking to, Megumiiii?~” Gojo asked, kneeling to look at the computer screen. “Ooh? You playing with the first and second years?”
Megumi grunted and suddenly jerked, Gojo watching as a sand worm suddenly exploded from the sand on the screen.
“WHOAAA!!” Megumi gasped. “Ohhhhh!!! Inumaki almost got me! ITADORI MOVE YOUR ASS!!!”
Gojo hummed, tapping his chin as he tried to figure out the mechanics of this new video game Megumi was playing. He’s certainly never seen this specific game before and was interested in learning how to play. However, he knew Megumi wouldn’t include him. It wouldn’t hurt to ask though.
“Megumiiii! Teach me how to play this game!!!” Gojo pleaded, shaking Megumi’s shoulders.
“Dude! Go away!” Megumi hissed. “Yeah, sorry guys
Gojo sensei is bothering me again!”
“Meguuuumiiii!~” Gojo sang, poking Megumi’s sides. “I’m gonna tickle you until you acknowledge my request.~”
The boy glared. “Don’t you dare!”
Gojo dared and he poked his student in the center of his tummy. A growl escaped from Megumi as Gojo continued poking him and before they knew it, Megumi had forgotten about the game and was cackling, desperately shoving Gojo away as he fell off of his chair and onto the floor.
“S-stop! Ahahaa!!” Megumi cried, his headset tumbling away from him. “Thihihis is childish! Quit this nonsense!! Ahahahaa!!”
Squeezing the teen’s hips, Megumi shrieked, Gojo cackling as he continued to playfully tickle him. “Just agree to teach me how to play and I’ll stop.~”
Being stubborn, Megumi refused. This only worsened his current situation and caused Gojo to continue tickling the life out of him. Screaming, Megumi finally began to fight back, begging and pleading for Gojo to stop in hopes the others would hear what was happening and come to his aid. No such help came and he finally submitted to the tickling, gasping for air as Gojo finally released him.
“So, I’m guessing that’s a yes?” Gojo asked, squeezing Megumi’s sides.
“YES!!” Megumi squealed, laughing harder as Gojo continued to tickle him. “YES!! YES! YEHEHES!! IHIHI’LL TEHEHEACH YOU HOW TO PLAY!! STOHOHOP!!”
With all that said and done, Gojo happily took a seat on Megumi’s chair, ready to learn how to play. Grabbing his headset, Megumi readjusted the mic and began to speak to whoever was still present.
“Sorry about that guys. Gojo wants to learn how to play. Don’t go easy on him, okay?” Megumi said, smirking as Gojo gasped in offense at the comment.
A/N: Thank you for the request! Sorry it’s a little short, the semester is wrapping up now and I’m doing registration. I’ve also been watching a lot of videos of ppl playing The Last Train Out of Wormtown so that’s where this inspiration came from 😆
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the-bad-batch-baroness · 10 months ago
Text
Infectious
TBB & Fem!Reader
Chapter 3: Rumors on Scorro
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Summary: You're completing your final practicum on Kamino as part of the experimental non-clone Combat Medic program. After graduating top of your class, and being inducted into the prestigious 407th Medic Unit, you get assigned to Clone Force 99. Neither of you are excited to be working together and tensions run high. However, those tensions dissipate when the Bad Batch unexpectedly falls ill while on a covert mission. Running against an unknown clock, it’s up to you to figure out what’s causing the illness before it ultimately kills you all.
Pairing: TBB & Fem!Reader
Characters: Hunter, Echo, Crosshair, Wrecker, Tech
Tags & Warnings: BAMF fem!reader, enemies to friends, humor, action, angst, hurt/comfort, canon typical violence, mild suggestive themes, explicit medical descriptions, whump
Word Count: 5.7k
Author's Note: WE'RE BACK BABY!!! Yeah, that's right. Finally. After all of this time, the next chapter has arrived đŸ„ł I told y'all I would be updating my other series fics in the new year, and I meant it. This chapter has some Echo angst in it, because why not. FYI, since it's been 9 months, I went back and edited the first two chapters to match my current writing style. No plot elements changed, just style, grammar, word choice, etc. As always, please enjoy 💚
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3
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As the ship leaves the stormy atmosphere of Kamino, you turn your head to look out the transparisteel viewport and are greeted by the sight of endless stars twinkling brightly across the ebony horizon. You smile wide knowing this view will never get old. The galaxy is vast and beautiful, and getting to see it up close and personal, while also doing something you love, is priceless. This really is a turning point in your life. A new chapter to be written and explored.
When the ship levels out, you unstrap from the jump seat and start exploring the Marauder. You have a feeling you’ll be spending a lot of time aboard this ship, so you want to familiarize yourself with it as much as possible. You walk back towards the stern, where Wrecker is, and look around, but there's not much to see. Then make your way back up toward the bow and step aboard the bridge. You weave between Hunter and Crosshair, and stand behind Tech.
“So, where are we going?” you ask while looking over Tech’s shoulder at the controls.
Without turning around, Tech answers. “Agamar. It’s a rather barren planet found in the outer rim. The terrain is inhospitable to most, but we will manage.”
“What’s the mission?” you ask further, excited by the prospect and intrigue.
“There’s a separatist base they want us to route,” Hunter says. “A simple in-and-out mission.”
You nod your head at the explanation, but he makes it sound like routing a heavily guarded separatist base is a walk in the park. You have to remind yourself that they are an elite force of clones and are genetically modified for the toughest conditions. It amazes you that such clones can even exist and your fascination with them grows. You wonder how they look in action and if they live up to all the rumors the regular clones whisper about on Kamino. Only time will tell.
Hunter rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck. “Get some sleep, all of you. We’ll be there in a couple hours.”
You want to say something funny, like 'aye aye captain', but decide not. Instead, you simply nod and make your way back to the bunks. Laying down on the flat rack, you stare up at the ceiling. There are too many pre-mission jitters vibrating through your body to fall asleep. Even after shutting your eyes and calming yourself, it's just not enough. So, you toss and turn, getting more aggravated that your body won’t drift off, since being tired for your first mission is not an option.
You sigh and sit up, then peer around at the others who are soundly asleep in their bunks and chairs. You’re not sure how they can fall asleep so fast. It’s either a genetic thing or a military training tactic, but whatever it is, you don’t have it. You decide to get up and pace around to try and wear yourself out, and when you do, you hear something. The ship is quiet and your ears perk up immediately at the sound. Wanting to investigate it, you quietly slip around your squad.
One by one, you pass by them, waiting and listening to hear who made the weird sound. Not Wrecker. You move on. Not Crosshair either. You check the next one. He’s making noise for sure, but not the sound you heard. It’s not Tech either. You move towards Hunter, a little nervous that he might wake up and catch you staring at him, but you pause and listen. Nope, not him. You purse your lips. That only leaves Echo. Carefully, you tip toe over to him, wait, and listen.
He's not making a sound, and with a shrug, you turn to leave, thinking you’re a level of crazy for hearing things on a quiet ship. Then it happens again. You turn back around and look at Echo. He’s sleeping rather soundly, with soft rhythmic breaths and gentle rises and falls of his chest. No breath obstructions, you note to yourself. You wait and watch for a moment, then he says it again. It’s faint, breathy, and almost unrecognizable as a word, but you hear it regardless.
Fives.
You knit your eyebrows at the odd utterance, and wait a little longer, listening to see if what he mumbles changes or if he’s repeating the same word. After a couple standard seconds, Echo says the same breathy word again. Fives. You wonder what it means. Maybe it’s a special numerical sequence from his time back on Skako Minor? You shrug at the mystery, but are happy that it’s not a breathing issue. You turn to leave him be, but he mumbles something else.
Fives come back.
Oh. Your heart drops. It’s a person. He’s dreaming about someone he knows, or maybe someone he once knew. You sigh and let your eyes turn soft, knowing exactly what it’s like to dream about loved ones. It’s been several years, but you still dream about your parents. Sometimes you can’t fill in all the gaps of your dreams as you slowly forget things, but it still pulls at your heartstrings every time they show up to give you a hug in the realm of sleep.
As your thoughts wander a yawn escapes past your lips. Finally, feeling tired and ready for sleep, you return to your bunk and crawl onto the hard surface. Laying on your back, you close your eyes and take a few deep breaths to settle yourself. You still wonder who Fives is and what they mean to Echo. Your psychology books tell you that dreams can be a subconscious escape or a subconscious desire. Knowing next to nothing about Echo’s past, it could be either one.
You take another deep breath and exhale slowly. Closing your eyes, you let yourself drift off to sleep, but in a split moment, a rough hand shakes you back awake. You shoot up and hit your head on the bunk above you. Ouch. Nursing your newly formed bump, you use your other hand to rub the sleep out of your eyes. When you come out of your groggy haze, you can hear snickering coming from the rest of the squad. Ha ha, yes, very funny. You think to yourself.
“Rise and shine,” Hunter mocks as he walks away from your bunk. “We’re here.”
Gathering your composure, you swing out of the bunk and head over to the cockpit for the landing. You look out the viewport as you enter the atmosphere of Agamar and your face lights up with excitement. This is it. Your first mission. You want to squeal, but something tells you that no one else is going to appreciate it, so you keep it internal. The ship lands on the rocky surface of the planet with only a slight wobble. Tech wasn’t kidding when he said it was inhospitable.
Your excitement grows as the squad gears up with their packs, and you follow suit the same way. You double check your pack to make sure you have all the medical necessities and do a mental headcount of your supplies. Once satisfied with your inventory, you sling it across your back and toss your bucket snug on your head. You’re all set to go on your first mission. The ship door opens, light beaming in, and your heart begins to race. This is it. This is your moment.
You take your first steps forward to leave the ship when Hunter stretches an arm out to stop you. “Not you,” Hunter says. “You’re staying here.”
“What?” you question. “But what about the mission?”
“Your mission is here,” Hunter says. “You’re staying on the ship with Echo.”
“But, sir!” you argue. Your feelings of excitement crumble. “I belong in the field!”
“You belong where I tell you you belong, medic,” Hunter snaps back. “Or are you ignoring an order from your commanding officer on your first mission?”
You huff and clench your fist. “No, sir."
“I didn’t think so,” Hunter says, then turns to face Echo. “We may need a quick extraction, so keep your ears on.”
“Understood,” Echo acknowledges with a nod.
Hunter nods back and heads out of the Marauder with the rest of the squad, well, the rest of the squad except you. You remove your bucket, plop down on your bunk with an angry grunt, and lean your head back against the wall. This entire assignment has been one big pissing match, and every time you think you’re making progress, you get sidelined. How are you supposed to make Kix proud if you don’t see any action? You release another angry grunt and cross your arms.
“Careful,” Echo says. “You’ll lose your voice if you keep grunting like that.”
You roll your eyes. “Aren’t you upset being stuck here?”
“No,” Echo answers. “It’s not unusual for someone to be left back with the ship. Keeps people from stealing it.”
With such a small squad of men to work with, you guess that makes sense, and since Echo is your unofficial chaperone, it makes sense that you were left on the ship with him. However, even though you try to explain it to yourself in those practical terms, you still think it's to spite you. You sigh. At this rate, you’ll never get to prove your worth as a Combat Medic to any of them. To these special clones, you’re just useless dead weight and not worth their time.
As the planetary rotation moves forward, you find odd things around the ship to busy yourself with, but you’re still bored. Echo is not much of a conversationalist and he hasn’t moved from his spot in the cockpit. You end up sprawling yourself across the seat in the gunner’s nest and looking out the window at whatever draws your attention. There’s some trees, a little snow on the ground, and a few stray wildlife that come into view. Nothing too spectacular, that’s for sure.
Finally, after hours of sitting by yourself, you decide to go back to the cockpit and sit with Echo. You're still curious about this Fives person he mentioned in his sleep, and you think maybe now might be a good time to ask him about it. You walk into the cockpit and sit down in the chair across from him, bending one leg up onto the chair and resting your chin atop your knee. Echo silently acknowledges your presence and returns to looking at the setting sun over the horizon.
You fidget with your fingers as you mull over whether to ask him about what you overheard last night. It might be private, and he may not want to tell you, but your curiosity is getting the better of you. “Echo,” you ask. “Who's Fives?”
Echo shifts uncomfortably in his seat and stays silent for a couple of minutes. “How do you know that name?” he asks. His words hang heavy in the air.
“You
” you begin, then pause, unsure of how to tell him. You don't want to sound creepy, but honesty is the best policy. “You said it in your sleep.”
Echo sighs, but doesn't turn his gaze from the orange sunset. “Shouldn’t you have been sleeping too?”
“I’m not used to sleeping on ships,” you answer. You can tell by the tone of his voice that this is a sore subject and you're starting to regret bringing it up.
Echo swivels his chair to face you and worries his lip. His eyes are full of sadness and his countenance is engrossed in pain as he searches for the words he's looking for. A small smile flashes across his lips. You wonder if he's thinking about a memory.
“He was my brother,” Echo says, his voice quiet at the strain of saying his thoughts out loud.
You can tell by his choice of words and his tone of voice that this brother isn’t around anymore and you feel a twinge of sadness settle in your gut. You understand a thing or two about the loss of a loved one. “What happened to him?” you ask.
“He was murdered,” Echo says, his fist tightening as he looks back out the viewport. “By one of our own.”
Your expression turns from sadness to shock and then confusion. A clone killing a clone? Does that even happen? Why would a clone do that? Your mind rushes a mile a minute trying to wrap your head around the idea, but you cannot seem to reconcile it. It’s too bizarre of a concept to comprehend. Every clone you've ever met was a brother to the one next to him. So, for a clone to kill another clone, it’s like a family member killing another family member. It’s unheard of.
“I’m sorry, Echo,” you offer as a consolation. “You must miss him.”
“Yeah,” Echo says, his voice distant. “I do.”
“I miss my parents all the time,” you say, trying to bridge the gap and build a connection.
“I remember you mentioning they’re dead,” Echo says as he turns to face you.
“About ten years ago,” you add. Now it's your turn to look out at the sunset.
“I’m sorry,” Echo says.
“It’s fine,” you shrug. “It hurts, but it doesn’t hurt like it used to. I know they’re out there watching over me, somewhere.”
Echo snorts. “You believe in that Jedi force stuff do ya?”
“Not really,” you answer with a small laugh. “But everyone needs to believe in something.”
“That’s fair,” Echo says.
“When I look up at the stars,” you begin with a smile while staring fondly out at the horizon, “it’s almost like I can feel them with me, you know? Watching over me as I make my way in the galaxy.”
“Sounds nice,” Echo says.
“I bet Fives is watching you too,” you say, then look at Echo with soft eyes. “He hasn’t left you alone, just like my parents haven’t left me.”
“Maybe,” Echo shrugs, then chuckles. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he came back to haunt me.” His brief small smile fades as his countenance reverts back to a frown.
“We’ll see them again some day," you say, trying to stay hopeful. “I just know it.”
“That would be something, wouldn’t it?” Echo half-jokes, but you can hear the part of his heart that wants what you're saying to be true.
He wants to see his brother again, desperately. So much so that he calls out to him while he sleeps. He must agonize over Fives’ death. You understand because you’ve been there. You’ve stared death in the face, the kind of death that leaves you thoroughly alone. You don't need to understand psychology to know what his subconscious thinks about on a daily basis, and your heart hurts for him, but you know there's nothing in your medpack to mend a shattered heart.
You and Echo stare out of the cockpit in silence and watch the sun fall beyond the horizon, sharing in this solemn moment and appreciating the company. The veil of night arrives and the stars begin to shine in the dark sky. The billions of bright burning lights feel comforting. The stars aren't very visible on Kamino, but here, on this planet, they are bright and beautiful. You relax your shoulders and lean back, thinking that maybe this assignment isn’t so bad after all.
However, your sweet moment is interrupted by Hunter’s voice over the comms. He’s calling in that quick extraction now and by the amount of yelling and blaster fire in the background, this is going to be a hot one. Echo relays the affirmation, sets the coordinates, and lets Hunter know that both of you are on the way to pick them up. You're slightly surprised that Echo included you in the transmission, but now is not the time to be celebrating your first taste of inclusivity.
“Civvy, strap in,” Echo orders as he starts pressing buttons and flipping switches to get the ship going. “This is going to be a bumpy ride and I don’t need you falling out of the ship.”
Ah, there it is. You sigh and head back towards the jump seats and strap yourself in for the wild ride ahead. Echo expertly maneuvers the ship to the squad's location and brings it in low so they can climb on board. You can hear the blaster fire outside and as the door opens to the ship, you watch them file in while firing off blaster bolts to cover each other. It’s the first time you’ve seen any of them in action and you're a little awestruck. They don’t move like other clones.
Tech next to Echo and Hunter yells for them to get them out of here. The ship moves again, this time more aggressively, as the enemy continues to fire at the Marauder. Wrecker moves to the gunner’s nest and shoots down the vulture droids that are following behind. You tightly grip the bars on the jump seat as the ship rocks from the blasts. Thankfully, the shields are up. The ship flips upside down, sideways, and every other way you can think of to out maneuver the droids.
At long last, the ship breaches the atmosphere and moves into space. Tech initiates the hyperdrive and pulls the handle down to enter into hyperspace. Once safe in a hyperspace lane, you let out the breath you were holding in, then flick the safety release on the jump seat and push them over your head. You get up from the seat and wobble forward, not realizing your legs turned to jelly from all of the excitement, and let your feet stabilize before trying to walk.
“Woah, that was fun!” Wrecker hollers as he brushes by you and moves towards the cockpit. “Echo, you should have seen this place. It was crazy.”
“Not as crazy as being sling-shot across a ravine,” Crosshair grumbles and pushes past you. He sits down in one of the swivel chairs and starts cleaning his rifle in silence.
“I said I was sorry,” Wrecker apologizes. “But we won!”
“Correction,” Tech says as he lifts a pointed finger in the air. “I won.”
Crosshair rolls his eyes and pulls a few credits from his pocket and hands them to Tech.
“Much obliged,” Tech says as he stuffs the credits in one of his many satchels.
The exchange has you lost in bewilderment. Clearly, something happened during the mission and you’re curious to know the details. You look at Echo, hoping he'll ask for more information about it, but he doesn’t, leaving you more curious. You do find it odd, however, that they had some form of amusement out on the battlefield. From your time on Kamino, most clones don't find blaster fire fun. Clone Force 99 really is different compared to the rest of the clone forces.
“I assume your mission was a success?” Hunter asks while walking by you, breaking you from your thoughts.
“Yes
 sir,” you answer with a twinge of hesitancy, a little unsure of what your mission was other than staying on the ship with Echo.
“Good,” Hunter says. He reclines in one of the empty swivel seats and clasps his hands behind his head. “Glad to hear it.”
You can’t tell if he’s being serious or if he's trying to make fun of you. Either way, you brush it off and focus on more pressing matters, like what's next on the mission agenda. Will you go back to Kamino? Or will you wait for more orders? That’s what good soldiers do, isn’t it? Follow orders? You’re still unfamiliar with all of this, so you’re not sure what to ask or what to do with yourself. Rather than make new issues by asking more questions, you retreat back to your bunk to relax.
But the boredom of waiting creeps in and you start to doze off. Your eyelids are heavy even though you barely spent any energy this rotation. It doesn't take you long to remember that you didn’t get much sleep the night before and now that the adrenaline is wearing off, your body is telling you it needs rest. You don't fight it and let your body go to sleep, hoping you won’t be woken up. As a medic, you must get rest whenever you can so you can be at your best at all times.
This time you wake up on your own terms, when your body feels rested. You’re not sure how long you were out, but no one bothered you so you assume everyone is still waiting for new orders to come across. You sit up in your bunk, without hitting your head this time, and stretch out your arms. You roll your shoulders and crack your neck. The bunks aren’t exactly soft, but they do their job. Swinging your legs over the side of the bunk, you get up to use the refresher.
As you head towards the refresher, the rest of the squad is huddled around and speaking amongst each other. Hunter looks serious and has his arms crossed, which can’t mean anything good, and Echo is arguing with him, again. You forget the refresher for a moment and walk over to add your presence to the mix. Hunter notices and glances at you before turning back to Echo. Not realizing where you are standing, Crosshair gives you a small jab on your behind with his rifle.
The sudden touch startles you. “What was that for?”
“You’re blocking my view,” Crosshair hisses. “Move.”
You roll your eyes. “You could've just asked me to move, you know. That's borderline harassment.”
“If you looked more like a window than a door, I wouldn’t have to borderline harass you,” Crosshair snarks and flicks his toothpick in your face.
Your nose scrunches and eyes close when the little wooden projectile hits your face. As your frustration builds, you take a deep breath to calm yourself. You want nothing more than to tell that sniper where he can shove his rifle, but you won't. It's not worth it because it will only fuel his bullying further. Instead, you choose to let it go. This time. There are points where you will cross the line, and he keeps dancing around that line. If he ever crosses it, you'll let him know.
“Can we get back to more important things?” Hunter asks, shifting his gaze between you and Crosshair.
Echo huffs and shakes his head. "I don't like it."
"We don't have to like it," Hunter says. "Orders are orders."
"What orders?" you ask.
Hunter swivels to face you. "There's rumors of an imperial base operating out of Scorro." Tech pulls up a holo of the planet and Hunter continues his explanation. "According to our intel, the GAR sent a squad of clones to scout the base, but their comms suddenly went silent. Another squad of clones were sent after them with the same result. Now they want us to investigate."
"Do they know what happened to the clones?" you ask, curious as to what's causing Echo's skepticism.
"No," Hunter crosses his arms. "They were never recovered."
"No one went back to get them?" you ask.
"It would be a waste of resources," Tech adds. "Besides, based on the trend, sending another clone squadron would yield the same results."
"But aren't we another clone squadron?" you ask, this time your nerves bleed through.
"Stop worrying!" Wrecker exclaims. "We can take on whatever they throw at us!"
His words don't make you feel better about the situation. While Echo is the only one openly objecting to the new mission, Hunter's facial expressions tell a different story than what he's leading everyone to believe. Your first inkling was the fact that he hasn't shoved you aside for this conversation. In fact, he's answered your questions without issue. He's serious about this in a way he hasn't been since you've met him. The fact that Hunter is worrying, has you worrying.
"I still don't like it," Echo frowns. "How'd they lose two clone squadrons without so much as one distress signal?"
"Maybe a new type of droid?" you offer. "Or their signals were jammed?"
"Groundbreaking ideas," Crosshair says.
"Everything is a valid option," Echo adds.
Crosshair rolls his eyes.
"Enough," Hunter says. "We're going to Scorro to investigate the rumors and to find the missing clones. Double-check our supplies and prepare for anything."
With the sergeant's final words, everyone scatters to prepare for the mission, except for Tech who punches in the new coordinates and sets the course for Scorro. You linger in the cockpit, silently observing Hunter as he pulls out his knife and twirls it around his fingers. The mission makes you nervous even though it shouldn't. You'll probably end up staying on the ship again, but maybe that's not a bad thing. You shake your head at the thought. That's not why you're here.
"Sergeant–"
"You too," Hunter says before you get a chance to ask. "You're coming with us."
You smile and nod. "Thank you, sir."
"Don't get the wrong idea," Hunter adds. "I need Echo for this mission, and I'm not leaving you alone on the ship."
"Yes, sir," you frown then turn back towards the bunks to get yourself situated.
Of course it would be too good to be true. For a second, you thought he actually wanted you on this mission, but he just wants to keep an eye on you. As a medic, you can help the missing troopers if they need medical attention, which you're confident they will. Your presence on the mission should be vital, not just an afterthought. Although, you shouldn't be upset that you're going on a mission, but you wish it was because of merit and not for the sake of babysitting.
Regardless, you will do your best on this mission and prove to Clone Force 99 that you are a good medic. That they need you. You're not sure how, but you will. When you get back to your bunk, you triple-check the supplies in your pack and stock as many bacta patches and stim shots as you can fit, plus some essential fluid and mineral packets, ration bars, and a few medical odds and ends that make sense to bring along. You want to be prepared for anything.
With your preparations made, it's another waiting game until you reach Scorro. You don't remember reading about that planet in your studies, but apparently it's rather primitive in nature, which is why no one has settled on it. It's an abandoned planet, making it a great outpost for mercenaries, pirates, and separatists. Pulling out your data-pad, you do a little more research to see what you can find out, but come up with the same dismal results that your holo-texts had.
It's not much longer before the Marauder drops out of hyperspace and the olive-green planet comes into view. When the holo-text said that Scorro was primitive, it wasn't kidding. It looks new and unabused by modern progress, and its vegetal hue is highly alluring. Your curiosity has now surpassed your trepidation about the rumors and missing clones. You're excited. This is a great opportunity, even if it's dangerous. The closer you get to the planet, the faster your heart beats.
“According to the scanners, there are no active fauna on this planet,” Tech states. "But the air is breathable."
“Just because the air is breathable doesn’t mean it’s good for you,” you point out. “Carbon monoxide is breathable but you’ll die before you figure out it’s bad for you.”
“Correction,” Tech adds. "The air is non-toxic towards human life-forms."
"Glad we could sort that one out," Crosshair says. "Any more words of wisdom?"
You narrow your eyes at him. "No."
"Take us in," Hunter says. "Land just outside the coordinates of the last clone squadron."
"Affirmative," Tech says, then flips a few switches before piloting the ship into the planet's atmosphere.
Once the ship has landed, Hunter addresses the group. "Our mission is to locate the two missing clone squadrons and investigate the rumors about an separatist base of operations. We'll use teams of two and spread out in an 800 meter radius from the last known coordinates. Keep the comm lines open and have your blasters at the ready."
Everyone nods and gears up, including you. Before you put your bucket on, you glance at the medic mark on your shoulder pauldron. No matter what happens, you have a job to do. You're a medic first. These men, your squad, are in your care and it's your responsibility to make sure they all survive. Steeling yourself for what's to come, you bite back every lick of fear that tries to take hold in your mind. You've trained hard for this, and you're not going to get cold feet now.
The side loading ramp opens and the bright sunlight of the planet blasts into the dimly lit ship. No turning back now. You follow the rest of the squad out of the ship and step onto the fresh earth of Scorro. For someone who grew up on Coruscant and spent the last cycle on Kamino, this much vegetation is mesmerizing. The sun is so warm, and the earth beneath your feet is so soft. This virgin planet is breathtaking. You take a few more steps forward, then Hunter stops.
"Tech, Crosshair, go east," Hunter says while pointing in that direction. "Wrecker and I will go north. Echo and Civvy, you'll go west.
The group nods and heads out in their respective directions.
"Stay frosty men," Hunter says over the comms. "There's no telling what we'll be up against out here."
You and Echo silently walk towards the western end of the perimeter, keeping your eyes peeled for any signs of the clone troopers or separatists. After a couple minutes, the silence grates on your nerves, but Echo seems focused right now. A little too focused. You know this mission bothered him from the beginning, but there seems to be something else about the way he carries himself that indicates it's not just about the mission being odd. There's something deeper.
As you continue forward, your foot kicks something hard. Looking down, you catch a glimpse of the familiar white plastoid clone trooper helmet, which is attached to a body shrouded by tall weeds. Your stomach flips. You weren't expecting to find one of them so quickly.
"Sarge," you say in the comms. "I found a trooper." Crouching down, you check for a pulse, but as you expected, there is none. "He's dead."
"We're making our way to your position now," Hunter says. "How'd he die?"
While your medic training didn't have an autopsy course, you inspect the body for the usual suspects. The armor is still intact and there's no signs of a struggle, which you find odd. There's no blaster marks, claw marks, bites, or scratches on the armor either. The black bodysuit isn't even ripped. He must have died from something. You pull back some of the black bodysuit and notice the tissue is necrotizing, but you don't see anything suspicious. Then you scan the body.
"Civvy, status," Hunter interjects over comms.
"I'm not sure how he died," you admit while reviewing the results of the scan. Echo looks over the body too, but doesn't come up with anything substantial. Not that you needed a second opinion.
"What do you mean you're not sure?" Hunter asks. "You're a medic, you should know how people die."
"There's no wounds," you explain. "He looks normal. Fine, even. Besides being dead." You don't mention it, but the fact that there are no organisms feasting on the clone's flesh also baffles you. You'd figure there would be more decay markers, but there's not even a single worm.
Hunter and Wrecker make it to your position and Hunter looks over the body, confirming what you said. "Then how the kriff did he die?"
You look up at Hunter from your crouched position next to the body and shrug. "We'd need a full autopsy to determine that, but the scans indicate no internal injuries either."
"So, he died from nothing?" Echo asks.
You shrug again. "Maybe he had a heart attack. That doesn't show up on portable scanners."
"Eighteen clone troopers died of a heart attack?" Hunter asks, his voice sounding distant.
"No," you rebut. "But maybe this one did."
Hunter points past you and you stand up to see what he wants you to look at. You tilt your head from side to side, scanning the area he's pointing at, when a glint of white pops up on your HUD. Then another. And another. Your eyes widen and your mouth gapes. The ground is littered with seventeen more troopers half-covered in tall weeds. The first squad and the second squad, dead mere meters from each other. You've never seen so many dead bodies before.
You feel your stomach grow queasy, and you rip off your helmet to vomit. As a medical student, you've seen cadavers, held organs in your hands, been bathed in blood, but nothing prepared you for the sight of a mass death. There's something menacing and sickly about it. You know most clones are never retrieved from battlegrounds and you know most clones will never see a proper burial, but knowing and witnessing are two different things. It's heartbreaking.
"You all right?" Echo asks.
You pant from the spasmic exertion, but find your voice. "I'm fine."
Tech and Crosshair arrive at your position soon after, and take note of the bodies. Everyone feels it now, the pressure looming thickly in the air. Something happened on this planet. Something killed these eighteen troopers and it killed them silently. There's an anxiety that creeps in as you wonder what it possibly could be. What is the silent hunter? How does it find its victims? And how can you and your squad escape from it? Perhaps, it may even be too late.
"I've got a bad feeling about this," Echo says to Hunter.
Hunter sighs. "Me too."
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Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3
Masterlist
A03
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suugarbabe · 1 year ago
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heyyyy congrats on getting 1k followers!!!!!!
i was wondering if you could do a Fred Weasley x fem! Slytherin reader? Like a enemy’s to like a slow burn lovers? so Fred was always kind of a jerk to the reader until like 5th year. And he went up to her and was trying to be nice but she walked off and muttered “I effing hate you Weasley” ( 😂) and so he didn’t talk to her for like a year but after a potions class in 6th year they ended up starting to get close? Idk I think it’s a fun idea lol
but once again CONGRATULATIONS đŸ„ł
You all know I love Fred Weasley 😊 not proofread
If someone were to ask you why you hated Fred Weasley, you would tell them that it had always been that way. Your opinion on him had been solidified since first year, he had always been a right prick to you for no apparent reason. As far as you knew, you had done nothing to him for it to be that way, nothing but be sorted into Slytherin. 
For someone who came from a family that was open about not caring about blood purity, he was pretty judgemental of someone strictly due to their house colors. You had found yourself the victim of his pranks several times over the last six years; completely soaked clothing, firecrackers exploding near your feet, insects crawling out of your textbooks. They were all juvenile in your opinion but Fred seemed to get nothing but joy out of your torture. 
So in fifth year when he started walking next to you on the way to Herbology your body physically tensed, awaiting his next prank. After thirty seconds of walking and nothing happening you couldn’t stop your lips from asking him what was happening. 
“Can I help you, Weaslebee?” the sneer was evident in your tone and Fred held his hands over his chest, faking offense. 
“Can a guy just walk next to a pretty girl on her way to class?” The sentence made you stop dead in your tracks, Fred following suit and turning to face you. “Go to Hogsmead with me this weekend.” 
It was a statement more than a question, but either way you could not believe what you were hearing. You looked around you, trying to see if you could spot the other red head that was typically attached to Fred to anticipate what you were sure was a joke. When you finally looked back towards Fred his eyebrows were raised, clearly anticipating your answer. 
“Are you joking?” you crossed your arms, leaning into one hip. Fred chuckled lightly, “No, go to Hogsmead with me, please?” he added the pleasantry to the end to make it more of a question. 
You couldn’t help but scoff, “Are you mental? Did one of your childish pranks go off in your face, Frederick?” He flinched slightly at the nickname you used to annoy him. “Never, in a million billion years would I go anywhere with you. I fucking hate you, Weasley.” And with that, you walked off to class, leaving Fred standing in the corridor dumbfounded. 
Since that moment you and he barely interacted. You had anticipated more pranks to be played on you since your harsh exchange, but they had seemingly stopped all together after that day. You had honestly put him out of your mind until the second term of your sixth year, when you walked into potions and was basically assaulted by dual heads of red hair. You scoffed slightly to yourself before finding a seat next to one of your housemates as Professor Snape walked in and up to his desk. 
When Snape said you were going to start this term off with a partner assignment you weren’t too bothered, whispering to your friend next to you about how you would go about it. However, when he stated that he had already picked out your partners and that you were going to be working with someone from a different house, the entire room let out a collective groan. 
That was how you found yourself sitting next to none other than Fred Weasley, who couldn’t seem to get that shit eating grin off of his face. The task was to create three different potions over the next three months, one potion per month. The three potions you were tasked with were Alihotsy Draught (a potion that causes hysterical laughter), Jawbind potion (a potion that induces lockjaw) and lastly Amortentia (love potion).
“Well I guess we’ll test the first one on you to see if it works since you never seem to smile,” Fred teased. You rolled your eyes, “Only if I get to test the second one on you. Would be nice to see your mouth closed for longer than a millisecond.” You expected a witty retort from the redhead, but instead he just laughed, not like a teasing laugh or anything either, just a genuine laugh. For whatever reason this made you smile, however you quickly tried to hide it from him. 
Over the next two months you were forced to spend time with Fred Weasley nearly three days a week, sometimes more depending on the stage of your potions. At first, you treated it like torture, finding yourself trying to angrily banter back and forth with him. 
But when Fred seemed to not appear as angry as he used to, you found yourself interested to see what type of reactions you could get out of him. Thus, you began to flirt. Little harmless things at first, using sarcasm to be suggestive. Fred’s eyebrows would raise in slight surprise but then he would return the banter. 
You didn’t know when your harmless flirting turned into actual flirting, but when you met Fred to start brewing the Amortentia, you felt your heart beat faster and your stomach flutter when he entered the room and winked at you. 
“Mornin’, gorgeous, are you ready for love?” Fred wiggled his eyebrows and your cheeks immediately flushed. You stuttered slightly trying to respond, causing him to speak again, “The potion, love. Are you ready to start?”
“Oh, erm, yes, let’s have a go at it then,” you cursed yourself internally for looking so stupid in front of him. You two worked in general silence after that, aside from asking for ingredients or directions. 
When the brew started to turn the right color Fred leaned over to smell it. A smirk grew on his face as he did so. 
“What? What do you smell, Freddie?” The nickname slipped from your lips accidentally. Fred turned to you immediately when you said it, his expression unreadable. “How about you take a smell first, then I’ll tell you.” 
You took a step closer to the cauldron, your senses overwhelmed by the most delicious scent of cinnamon and vanilla. There was a third scent there, something you recognized but couldn’t quite put your finger on. 
When you took a second, deeper, sniff the realization hit you. Your eyes widen, turning to face Fred now. The last scent was unmistakable now: firework smoke. You had smelled Fred Weasley in your love potion. 
Upon seeing your shocked state Fred only smiled, uncrossing his arms to place his large hands on either side of your waist. He leaned down, whispering softly in your ear, “Don’t fret, gorgeous. I smelled you too.”
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klausinamarink · 1 year ago
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Happy Accidents Allowed
Prompt: “Starry Night” (discord drabble from STWG and a happy birthday to @thefreakandthehair đŸ„łđŸ’œ)
-
“That’s a perfect wall right there.” Eddie emphasizes his point by smacking a hand against the still-white, (thankfully) now dried paint. “Don’t ya agree, big boy?”
Steve puts his hands on his hips, letting himself survey every inch of the wall of their living room. It’s actually a small area, right next to the sliding door of the balcony, barely wide enough to fit his own frame even with his arms outstretched. It’s also the only wall in their new apartment left unpainted because Eddie had wanted it blank for a mural he wanted to do. Hence the many paint bottles and palettes around their feet.
Finally, Steve smacked his lips and said, “Better than a horse, I’ll say.” 
It came out less clever than it did in his brain, but Eddie laughed hysterically anyways. 
“Alright, I’m gonna start so do not distract me!” Eddie pointed at him with one of the paintbrushes. 
“Even if it’s for meals?” Steve asked, the corners of his lips quirking upwards.
Eddie paused. “Unless it’s for meals.”
“Even if you need a shower?”
“Unless I have to shower.”
“Even if-”
Steve cackled as he leapt away from Eddie’s attempt to smack his leg. “Even if I have to sleep, yes!” 
He left Eddie alone then. Steve spent a while in their bedroom to finish unpacking the last couple boxes, before he peeked back in the living room. 
Some of the wall was painted in a thick dark blue. Eddie was still hunched over on his spot, but Steve could see that his boyfriend already had some other colours done. They were too dark and blob-y looking for Steve to figure out what they were. But it wouldn’t hurt to ask, right?
“So what exactly are you painting?” Steve tiptoed over, careful not to disturb Eddie.
Eddie hummed, not looking up from where he’s still painting. “Been wanting to try my version of Starry Night.”
“Starry Night?”
“Yeah, you know. That one Van Gogh painting.” 
“Oh, I know that.”
They both fell into a comfortable silence. Steve kept watching Eddie until he finally looked up. “You wanna try?”
Steve blinked, “Huh?”
Eddie grinned, already handing him a paintbrush. “You can try painting too. It would be sort of cool if we did this together, actually. Like, I paint on this side, you paint on that side, we meet in the middle. Might be sweet.”
”Or hideous.” Steve muttered, taking the offered brush. Eddie laughed before turning back to his progress.
Steve stared at the remaining white space. He looked down at his brush. It’s one of the small ones that could do thinner strokes for the details. Probably a good choice Eddie gave him because Steve knew absolutely nothing about painting. Even in art classes as he had followed his teacher’s instructions, his projects always looked like a first grader’s attempt. Hell, he was pretty sure first grade was the last time he genuinely wanted to do painting on his own.
He took a deep breath. He can do this. He knows what Starry Night looks like, so all he has to do is paint what he remembers, right?
Steve sits down, dipping the brush in one of the blue paints. A lighter color. Because Starry Night had lots of cool brushstrokes and it makes sense to start from light to dark. Right?
Steve carefully taps the brush experimentally on the wall. As expected, the light blue paint appears as a new dot on the white wall, inches away from Eddie’s. But an inexplicable wave of dread comes over Steve. The longer he stares at the spot, the more it overwhelms him. 
Because he doesn’t know what to do next. 
Does he have to apply the same paint? Does he just have to bring the brush back and move it up and down? Did he have to add a new one? If he tried a different brush- no, it would just be the same, just more larger. Should he ask Eddie? No, it’ll just distract him anyways. Maybe if Steve left now- no, he would be a fucking asshole-
“I ruined it.” Steve said, blankly staring at the pathetic dot. 
“What?” Eddie blinked at him. His eyes darted to the horrible blue spot and he made a small laugh. “Sweetheart, you just started-”
“I ruined it.” Steve repeated. Pressure started burning right behind his eyes. He immediately pinched the bridge of his nose, careful with the paintbrush he’s still holding. Fucking pathetic. “This was a mistake.”
“Wait, wait, Steve.” Eddie’s hands were on his wrists, gently bringing them down to their laps. Steve looked away, biting hard into his bottom lip. If he had to look at his boyfriend, Steve was certain he would just start sobbing and never stop.
“Steve.” Eddie said softly. His hand carefully cupped Steve’s face. Lingering, not turning his head to face Eddie. “Tell me what’s wrong?”
“Like I said,” Steve clenched his jaw as he spoke, trying to stop the waterworks from going out, “I ruined it.”
There was a tiny rustle of clothes as Eddie moved forwards. His arms wrapped around Steve, easily pulling their bodies together. Steve couldn’t hold it anymore. He buried his face in his boyfriend’s shoulder, inhaling the smell of paint already ingrained in the fabric of his flannel. It soaked up his tears easily. 
After Steve felt like he could breathe without feeling choked up, Eddie spoke again, “It’s your first time painting, right?”
Steve nodded. He turned his head so he could press his face against Eddie’s neck. 
“I’m not expecting you to be a master painter.” Eddie paused, “Though it would be pretty cool if my boyfriend was secretly Van Gogh.” He cackled aloud when Steve good-heartedly pinched his arm in response. When he quieted down, Eddie leaned back so he was staring into Steve’s eyes. His thumb rubbed underneath them to wipe away any stray tears.
He continued, “It’s okay to fail, Steve. It’s okay to make mistakes, especially when you’re just starting something new. Believe me, I get the struggle. Sometimes, I come up with super cool ideas but I just tear my hair out when I can’t draw it exactly how I pictured it.”
“Really?” Steve asked quietly, even though he already witnessed plenty of those moments Eddie had just described, which was mostly amusing. But nothing about this situation feels funny to Steve. Surely, Eddie’s internally laughing at him right now.
But Eddie was only smiling at him, all so fondly, “Really. And there’s a lesson about it. If you think you ruined something, call it a happy accident.”
“Happy accidents?” Steve repeated it under his breath. Eddie’s smile grew wider as he playfully tapped his nose.
“Yep, no calling it a mistake or saying you ruined art. It’s just happy accidents.”
When they both leaned in to kiss, Steve thought about the circumstances that had brought them both here in this apartment, despite the horrors that had caused it. Thought about how if he hadn’t ran back to the Byers house that night, Steve’s life would’ve been more blissful but none the wiser. He wouldn’t have met the kids and known Eddie more this intimately.
Yeah, it sure was a happy accident. And that, Steve wouldn’t regret those spots of paint on his own mural of his life.
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heavenboy09 · 2 months ago
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY 🎂 đŸ„ł 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 TO YOU
THE 1# AUSTRALIAN 🇩đŸ‡ș ACTOR IN THE WORLD đŸŒŽâ™„ & THE LONGEST LIVING ACTOR TO PLAY A SUPERHERO ON THE BIG SCREEN FOR 17 YEARS
He was born in Sydney, New South Wales, to Grace McNeil (née Greenwood) and Christopher John Jackman, a Cambridge-educated accountant. His parents were English and had come to Australia in 1967 as part of the "Ten Pound Poms" immigration scheme. Thus, in addition to his Australian citizenship, He holds British citizenship by virtue of being born to UK-born parents. One of his paternal great-grandfathers, Nicholas Isidor Bellas, was Greek, from the Ottoman Empire (now in Greece).
He is an Australian actor. Beginning in theatre and television, he landed his breakthrough role as Logan / Wolverine in the X-Men film series (2000–2017), a role that earned him the Guinness World Record for "longest career as a live-action Marvel character", until his record was surpassed in May 2022. He is the recipient of various accolades, including a Primetime Emmy Award, a Grammy Award and two Tony Awards, along with nominations for an Academy Award and a British Academy Film Award. Jackman was appointed a Companion of the Order of Australia in 2019.
He reprised his role in 2003's X2, 2006's X-Men: The Last Stand, and the 2009 prequel X-Men Origins: Wolverine, where Troye Sivan played the younger version of James Howlett. He also cameoed as Wolverine in 2011's X-Men: First Class. He returned for the role of Wolverine again in 2013's The Wolverine, a stand-alone sequel taking place after the events of X-Men: The Last Stand, and reprised the character in the 2014 sequel X-Men: Days of Future Past and briefly in the 2016 follow-up X-Men: Apocalypse. In 2015, Jackman announced that the 2017 sequel to The Wolverine, Logan, was the final time that he would play the role. It earned him the Guinness World Record of 'longest career as a live-action Marvel superhero'.
PLEASE WISH THIS LEGENDARY AUSSIE 🇩đŸ‡ș MARVEL ACTOR OF A LEGEND & ALL AROUND ENTERTAINER OF ENTERTAINMENT A VERY HAPPY BIRTHDAY 🎂 đŸ„ł 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊
YOU KNOW HIM
YOU LOVE HIM & LADIES YOU CANT HELP BUT LOVE HIM
& YOU JUST CANT LIVE WITHOUT HIM
AINT THAT RIGHT, BUB
THE 1
&
ONLY
MR. HUGH MICHAEL JACKMAN🇩đŸ‡ș AKA JAMES HOWLETT LOGAN AKA THE WOLVERINE đŸș OF X-MEN
HAPPY BIRTHDAY 🎂 đŸ„ł 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 TO YOU MR. JACKMAN & MANY ALL YOUR DREAMS & YOUR LIFE BE FILLED WITH HAPPINESS FROM HERE ON OUT.
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#HughJackman #Logan #Wolverine #Xmen #DeadpoolandWolverine
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angstsfordays · 1 year ago
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I will go to you like the first snow [2/?]
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Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x OC! femreader
Summary: "I liked it so much. Watching over you, my heart (is) fluttering." Coryo realizes that loving you and having you are two separate things.
Warnings: Coriolanus Snow is a warning. Pre-signs of toxic! and possessive! Coryo!
Notes: For new readers to my work, the genre of my writing is usually more angst, sometimes fluff and slightly melodramatic. So if you are expecting anything sexy, I forewarn you that you ain't getting any. If you want sexy in terms of emotions, maybe I will try! Here's another chapter while I still on a writing roll! Happy new year everyone! đŸ„łđŸŽ†
Love, Angstsfordays đŸ«¶đŸŒ
Link to part one here
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This is the last place Coriolanus thought he would spend his last break before his final and senior year at the Academy. The grand Carnell estate was a sight to behold and the privilege of having a chance to step foot into the home ground of the most distinguished family in Panem is one most could only dream of.
Unlike most of the elite in Panem who lived in penthouses, your family is the rare few who gets to live on an entire estate land belonging to themselves aside from the President.
He didn't expect a simple comment he made about roses would actually grant him this privilege.
The two of you were having a short break at your special spot under the Burning Ash tree before your next class was about to begin. While penning down your study notes, you felt that your hair was starting to get in the way as the wind was picking up.
Grabbing a hair tie from your bag, you gathered your loose hair and tie them into a loose tail. Coryo's eyes were fixated at how you held your hair tie between your lips and wondered since when they looked so lovely. The kind that were looked soft and inviting that he would love to just kiss over and over again.
Once you were done tying your hair, Coryo noticed how your already beautiful features stood out even more. His eyes then went down to the mole that rested halfway on the right side of your neck and wondered if he were to kiss that spot, what kind of reaction would you give him?
A particular scent then wafted to his nose as the wind blew once more. It was feminine yet zesty, comforting and making him want to get closer to you to get more of the delicious scent. It then clicked for Coryo why your scent was comforting.
"You smell like roses." Coryo's voice got you to look at him when you barely returned to your notes after tying your hair.
"Oh, you noticed?"
"And something else." His voice was deep and eyes were intent on you. You were starting to feel butterflies again, oh boy. You cleared your throat to avoid sounding like you were nervous.
"Apples."
"Apples?" It came off as question rather than a statement and you chose to elaborate further.
"When my parents moved to District 11, they lived and worked on an apple orchard. I grew up surrounded by apples." This was news to Coryo as you seldom mentioned anything about your father. Rather than being ashamed, Coryo thought you did not want to say anything as it would have triggered deeper emotions within you. Your glassy eyes proved his point.
"My mother has been interested in perfumery lately and she just created this scent. She always liked roses and the apples reminded her of the happier times she had with my father." You were trying to not look at Coryo as you spoke, fearing that you could break down any second. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you willed yourself to look at Coryo for a second before looking down at your notes again.
"I sprayed a little after gym class to not smell. Hope you don't mind."
"No not all. My mother loved roses too." Coryo rarely spoke about his any of his parents. You did know both passed on, his father died from a rebel shooting during the war and his mother in childbirth. Hearing him speak about her to you made you feel special.
Throwing a small smile his way, he caught it and returned one in kind. "She has this compact powder that smelt of roses, sometimes I will take it out when I think of her more on a particular day. " You didn't miss the look of nostalgia and longing in Coryo's eyes as he spoke. Reaching over to cover his hands in yours, your thumb brushed against his knuckles in a comforting effort. Coryo moved his fingers over to engulf your hand in his, tightening his grip to show that he did not want to let your hand go anytime soon.
"My grandma'am also likes to grow roses in our home's rooftop garden. She's rather possessive of them but would sometimes give me one for important occasions." He tried to lighten the mood. A sudden idea popped in your head.
"You should come over to my house!" Coryo's eyes widened at your statement as you excitedly continued on.
"My mother has an extensive personal garden and she has grown many types of flowers including roses! I will ask her if I can have some for your grandma'am!"
"No, I couldn't impose-" Coryo started sputtering which was very unlike him, but why wouldn't him be? It felt so intimate having you invite him over to your home. He had never visited any of his classmates' home ever since his family went into poverty.
"No, you're not. What's the point of so many flowers if you do not share it with someone? I will talk to my mother, she will be more than happy to! She's maybe my grandfather's daughter, but she's the furthest thing from him." Coryo grinned at your child-like excitement before nodding.
"If you insist."
"It's a date then!" You said excitedly not knowing the subtle impact of your words on Coryo. A date with you? Coryo felt like his fantasy just came true.
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So here he was, decked out in his finest clothes to impress. After giving his name to the guards at your front gate, he was let in no more than a minute later. Once he reached the front porch, a handsome ginger haired man who looked around to be in his mid-twenties was waiting for him.
"Greetings, Mr Snow. I am Rowan, a butler to Miss Y/N. As an esteemed guest of Miss Y/N, please allow me to escort you inside." Coryo nodded and muttered a word of thanks before walking through the grand doors that were held opened for him.
The inside of the Carnell estate was truly a sight of marvel, his family penthouse even back in its glory days was nothing in comparison to your family manor.
Greeted by the doubled sided grand stairs at the center, Coryo took the time to drink in the posh interior.
"Coryo, you're here!" His attention was taken by your voice. Coryo looked to see you dressed in mid length flowy dress with a knit sweater. Your hair was different as it was curled in looser waves and it seemed light as it bounced in the air when you made quick steps down the grand stairs.
"Miss Y/N, you know that you're not supposed to run in the manor."
"Please Rowan, grandfather's not here." You rebutted in jest.
"He has eyes and ears everywhere." Rowan reminded you in response. You sidled up closely to your butler and playfully poked him before speaking.
"And I supposed you're one of them? Are you going to tell on me?" Rowan remained unfazed at your childish behaviour although Coryo could tell he was trying to hold in a smile.
Coryo knew you could be playful sometimes but never would he have thought you to behave the same towards your own staff. Afterall, you are the dignified young lady of the house Carnell.
But then again, you were never one for formalities so seeing you acting so casually to your butler was not too surprising either. However, he did not know if he liked that you acting this way to this Rowan.
"I am but a humble servant in service to the honorable Chief Commander Carnell." Rowan placed his right hand over his left chest before offering you a kind smile. You scoffed before turning to Coryo and grabbing his arm. Giving him a wide smile, you were excited at having your best friend over at your home for the first time.
"Come on, let me give you the quickest house tour before we head over to the garden!" Coryo brought a hand to rest on yours and then noticed how Rowan's eyes narrowed in at the physical contact.
'Harboring feelings for your young miss, Rowan?', Coryo's brows raised slightly at this unexpected discovery.
You waved off Rowan who offered to escort the both of you to the garden, reassuring that you knew your way around and wanted him to take a break.
As you started to ramble on about the house tour, Coryo turned back to see Rowan still looking on at the both of you and proceeded to twitch his mouth into a wired smug look.
You can't and never will have her, Rowan.
Once the house tour which was cut short to just the main living areas due to its sheer size (it would have taken half a day to go over the entire estate) was over, you led Coryo to have a meal at the your mother's garden.
You then brought him to where the rose beds laid and to see Coryo's face light up at the sight of the roses made your heart soared. With your mother's permission, you got the gardener to pick some roses and kept them for Coryo's grandma'am later.
Picking up a small budding rose bud that fell from the bunch, you blew off the invisible dust and beckoned Coryo over. Gesturing him to bend closer to your height, you then broke a part of the stem and tucked the flower above his ear and into his golden curls.
Giggling at your work, you brought Coryo over to the fountain nearby and stared at both of your reflection in the water.
"As pure as the driven snow." Crinkling nose at how cringey you came off, you looked down and away from Coryo who was still looking in the water at your shy expression. His hand rested on your shoulder to prevent you from turning away and nudged you to turn towards him.
His fingers then moved to find your chin and tilted it up to have you face him. As light his eyes were, you were able to find yourself in the reflection of those blue orbs.
"Look into my eyes. That is the person who's the real definition of being pure as as the driven snow." His husky voice spoke and your heart trembled at how attractive you found it.
He was very close. You two have never been this close. "Coryo...."
Coryo grinned at seeing how your ears were turning red- a telltale sign of you being embarrassed.
MY little blushing rose.
Your eyes fluttered shut as you held your breath in anticipation of what might happen next. Coryo smiled at your little action and decided that the time was now to make you his. Just one more inch and he will be able to find out if your lips were as lovely as he thought.
"Y/N! My darling, you in here?" An outsider's voice broke the spell between you and Coryo as you took a few steps back. The both of you looked around awkwardly and pretended as if nothing was about to happen just a few seconds prior.
The voice that called for your name spoke again and you realised it was your mother!
"Mother!" You responded to her call as you moved forward. Coryo was disappointed at what transpired but his feeling quickly dissipated and changed to one of nerves when he saw your mother stepped into sight.
Your mother was a gem of a beauty and one might not have believed that she had bore a teenage daughter with her how youthful she looked. She carried herself well just like any elite lady of the Capitol. But what differentiated her was the kind and approachable disposition she also carried, making her even more charming to the heart.
Coryo thought the apple did not fall far from the tree. The only difference that you had from your mother was the energy you gave. If Coryo were to describe you to be warm and bright like sunshine, your mother exuded a calmness like the moonlight.
"There you are, dear. Oh, you must be Y/N's friend." You greeted your mother in a tight hug before letting go.
"I'm Coriolanus Snow. It's nice to meet you , ma'am. Thank you for having me." Coryo saw how your mother looked over his features before forming an affectionate smile.
"You do look alot like your father."
"You knew my father?" His words came out hoarser than he realized.
"Yes, he was once a pupil under my father. I met him and your mother at their engagement party once. She was such a lovely person. It's a shame." She looked at Coryo with sad eyes but they were not pitiful.
"I'm sorry to bring up painful memories, my dear. If there’s anything you ever need, I’m here to help." Your mother reached over to hold both of Coryo's hands. The warmth she radiated was the same as yours, Coryo thought.
"Are the roses enough? Y/N here told me your grandmother grew roses too."
"Yes, more than enough. She would be thrilled." Coryo's answer caused your mother to smile widely, one that mirrored the smile he adored so much.
"That's wonderful. I can't say enough thanks for you taking care of Y/N in school. I was honestly so worried when we moved back to the Capitol and she enrolled in the Academy. It's a rather big adjustment since she lived most her life in an entirely different place. I'm just so glad she has a friend that she can trust."
"I'm very grateful for her too."
"Grateful that I'm keeping you on your toes? You better be prepared for the new school term if you still want to be on top!" You taunted cheekily, trying to cover up how tense you were still feeling from that almost-kiss from earlier.
"Y/N, be nice to Coriolanus here!" Your mother chided you softly. You crinkled your nose in an attempt to be innocent to your mother.
"I am! I always am!" Coryo chortled at your act. "Not when you try to pelt me down with those dodgeballs during gym class just the other week-"
You immediately brought a hand over Coryo's mouth in an attempt to shush him as you didn't want your mother to hear of your 'unlady'-like behaviour in school. Your mother shook her head while giggling at the two of you engaging in a childish fight as Coryo tried prying your hands off and proceeding to aim and tickle for your weak spot.
Coryo just managed to wrap his arms from behind you in a hold to stop you from running away. Your tummy was feeling weak from the laughing so much and Coryo relished in having you snugged in his embrace.
"Miss Esme,” Rowan came in to the garden in hurried steps and greeted your mother first before greeting you. His eyes looked at how Coryo was holding you before meeting the young Snow's with an almost defiant look.
You didn't catch it but was wondering why Coryo was still holding onto you tightly, (not that you didn't like it) but you didn't want to show such intimacy in front of others.
"Master Carnell has returned home." Your eyes furrowed in confusion before speaking, "But he was not to be back until the day after?”
"Apparently, his trip out has been cancelled early due to unforeseen circumstances from the other party." Letting out a deep sigh, you can't believe that your grandfather had returned earlier than expected. You planned for Coryo to come over today, knowing he was making a trip out of the Capitol to provide consultation at the peacekeepers headquarters in district 2.
"Then I guess I have to go, I'm sorry Coryo. I wished you could have stayed longer." You started pouting at the fact that your day with Coryo has to be cut short. Rowan ceared his throat to get your attention.
"Master Carnell is aware that you have a guest and wishes to see all of you in the main foray." Your eyes widened in fear, why would your grandfather want to see Coryo, absolutely not! Who knows what he would say and do to scare Coryo off!
"No no, you do not want to meet him. He's absolutely hor-" Your mother uncharacteristically called your name in an almost shrilling tone.
Pursing your lips tight after your mother's chiding, your eyes wandered to see Coryo biting his lip to hold back his amusement.
"Miss Y/N, we do not want to keep Master Carnell waiting." Letting out a big exhale, you stomped off ahead of the rest to face the music.
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As Coryo entered the main reception area, he first saw the back of your grandfather which stood tall and imposing in his uniform. Hearing the sound of your footsteps, your grandfather turned around and Coryo was immediately reminded of how he used to look up at his father back then.
Your grandfather nodded to Rowan who made his exit shortly after everyone entered the room.
"Esme, Y/N."
"Father." Your mother's voice was polite and sweet.
"Grandpa." You also tried to your best to sound as cordial as your mother.
"What a nice welcome home indeed." Your grandfather was known to be feared by most that knew him but he always reserved the rare warm side of him for the dearest women in his life- his wife, daughter and granddaughter.
This was shown by the small smile (which already meant a lot) on his face as he looked over both you and your mother. The smile immediately dropped however when his eyes moved over to glance upon the young mister Snow.
"I see you brought a guest."
"This is Coriolanus, my friend from school." Usually you would act more of like a brat in front of your stern but albeit forgiving (only towards you) grandfather but you kept in mind that you wanted him to be nice to Coryo and decided to go against your usual routine.
"Mr Snow is it?" Coryo stood a little taller and puffed his chest slightly more to give off a more confident stance at your grandfather's address. He definitely wanted to make a good impression not because he was the great Chief Commander Carnell of Panem but your grandfather too- if he were to ever want you, this was the man he needed to make an impression on.
"Yes sir."
"I heard many things about you." Your grandfather's tone was steadfast.
"I don't remember sharing about Coryo before." You were puzzled as to your grandfather's words before he looked over to you with an almost mischievous glint in his eyes.
"I have my ways." Your grandfather finally let a wide smile as seeing how your eyes widened in astonishment. You wanted to retort before your grandfather continued.
"I trust Y/N was a good host."
"The best, sir." Coryo answered truthfully.
"Hmm, Y/N- would you give us the room to talk?" Your grandfather tilted his head towards you and you furrowed your brows at his statement.
"Grandpa..." You spoke in a slight warning tone. Your grandfather nonchalant to your expression and instead told you he just wanted to have a short chat with Coryo.
With a reluctant step, you walked over to Coryo to pat his arm gently as a form of support. You nodded to him and he responded in kind to ease you of your worry.
"Grandpa, please be nice. Please." You had a love-hate relationship with your grandfather ever since you returned to live with him. While sometimes you were upset whenever you thought of how he treated your parents in the past and his over-demanding tendencies, the moments of tough love he gave you could not be ignored.
You were the only person that could get away with talking back to him and he was always trying to make up to for not being present ever since you were born. Once your mother and yourself were out of sight, your grandfather swiftly addressed the elephant in the room.
"Mr Snow, what are your intentions with my granddaughter?" Coryo had somewhat expected your grandfather to ask this question but it still unnerved him the same.
"I have no other intentions other than being her friend."
Your grandfather didn't seem to take kindly to the politically correct answer that Coryo gave.
"It's funny how you think you can lie to me. I hope you don't think you can use her to your benefit." Coryo started to panic at how direct your grandfather was being. His words were uncompromising and his tone was resolute.
"Never. I would never do that to her. She's too important to me." Coryo justified himself and your grandfather took a short pause before he continued speaking.
"You father was a great man, one of the finest generals I ever got to work with. Your family name is also not one to look over, the Snow is a prominent name." Dread fell upon Coryo as he was being once reminded of how far his family had fallen from the glory days and for your grandfather, a prominent figure in Panem to point them out only served to increase the heart wrenching feeling he always held in his heart.
"My daughter once fell in love with a talented man with no name. And so it seems my granddaughter seems to like a boy that comes with a great name but yet to prove himself worthy of that name." Hearing Master Carnell bluntly saying you liked him sounded too good to be true but of course, Coryo was in high spirits hearing that. He had to control his excitement before responding.
"I don't think Y/N likes me like that, sir." Your grandfather smiled in amusement as he shook his head.
"I may have only reunited with my granddaughter not long ago but I know her well enough. The fact that she acted so cordial with me in front of you which is really unlike her usual self showed me plenty on how she regards you and how she wanted me to like you." Master Carnell took several steps closer to Coryo and the young Snow swore he had to use every fibre of his being to stop his legs from trembling in an obvious manner as the old gentleman stopped a few feet from him.
Your grandfather's eyes instantaneously switched and sent chills down Coryo's spine.
"Mr Snow, you are not worthy. I will tell you this and foremost. Y/N is my only granddaughter. She might not be my successor but I will not doubt she is able to achieve great things and bring glory to the Carnell name." Seeing how Coryo has paled, your grandfather backed up to take it easy on the young man.
"It's a shame what your family has come to after the first war." Coryo sucked in his breath and let out an exhale to give himself the confidence to speak up after all of your grandfather's contempt.
"I am ambitious Sir. I plan to bring my family name back to its glory days." Coryo's answer caught the attention of your grandfather who turned back to face him.
"Are you?" Your grandfather held Coryo in a death stare to see if he truly meant his words and Coryo did try to his best to unyield to your grandfather's micro-aggression.
"Prove it to me and perhaps I shall consider giving you my blessing to even court my granddaughter." It was then that it dawn upon Coryo that wanting you and having you were two separate things. If he ever wanted to have you, your grandfather would be a big obstacle for him to overcome. And for that to happen, Coryo had to gain more power- far more than he initially dreamed of.
Coryo mustered up all the confidence he had before voicing up.
"I will do my best, sir. For Y/N." Your grandfather just nodded before calling for Rowan. It was then you burst into the room like you were on fire.
"Everything is good? Are you alright?" You immediately went over to Coryo's side and placed a hand on his arm. Coryo felt the intense stare that your grandfather was sending and just nodded curtly to you. He added a reassuring smile which relieved you of your worries.
You looked over to your grandfather and spoke, "Thank you for being nice."
"If I knew you would act so demurely whenever your friend is around, I would have invited him sooner." Your grandfather chuckled before looking over at Coryo once more, "feel free to come over whenever you like, Mr Snow."
"Thank you for the hospitality, sir." Coryo replied before your grandfather took his leave. Once the two of your were left alone, you turned to Coryo with both your hands on either side of his arms.
"He didn't say anything to scare you right?"
"I would be lying if I say he's not intimidating but I can tell he loves you very much." Coryo was heartened to see you care so much for him. You scoffed at what your friend said and replied, "He has an odd way of showing it."
"I would do the same if I had such a beloved granddaughter myself." Your face crinkled at how cheesy Coryo was but you didn't give it too much thought.
"But I think everything seemed to go well, he even said you could come over next time. Thank goodness. You did well." Coryo preened at your praise and you stretched your hand to place it on his head affectionately.
Coryo leaned in and felt his heart fluttering as he watched over you looking at him with such pure fondness. You were the only one who ever watched him with such pure adoring eyes.
I will do whatever it takes to have you, Y/N. Nothing and no one will get in my way.
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Thank you for the support through the likes and reblogs! ♄ Do let me know what you think of this chapter in the comment section!
I will open up a tag list for anyone who's interested to follow this series! 😆
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kazumiwrites-fanfiction · 1 year ago
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Everybody Wanna Take Her Heart Away
REQUEST: Hi hiii~ First off, a happy birthday to you! đŸ„łđŸŽ‚ Wishing lots of happiness in life 💖 I've read some of your works and I really like your writing style! I saw your Mostro Lounge event and it took me a while to decide (because there's so many options that are sooo good; I'm indecisive haha) but I finally chose one! So I'm wondering if I could request F!Reader x Azul with the song "Steal My Girl" from the Azul to You playlist you made? I was thinking about a scenario where someone keeps pestering F!Reader to go out on a date with them (even if she already said no) and then Azul saves the day! Swooping in, holding you close by the waist, declaring "find another 'cause she belongs to me" (you get the reference 👀 haha) But I understand you already have a general idea for each so no worries~ Also, I'm sorry if this was long hahaha Again, happy birthday! Sending you cakes!! 🎂🎂🎂 Thank youuuu! ✚❀ - @escha-evenstar
SUMMARY: Azul doesn't like how other people flirt with you. WORD COUNT: ~600
WARNINGS: Ace flirting(??) with you and making you uncomfortable, Ace does not get any hints, Azul is protective and a bit too jealous maybe?? Azul also maybe be a bit ooc. A/N: Okay so I'm not really comfortable with writing an explicitly female reader (it gives me gender dysphoria) so I did make this more neutral - however, I did try to make it as fem as I could, but I'm sorry if it's not specifically what you wanted! I love how I started writing this a month after your request, life's been hectic and I keep making rp blogs (to procrastinate on my homework). Someone needs to stop me. (I also started playing JP Twisted Wonderland too... I have a problem). I'm so sorry this is so late!! Thanks for the happy birthday wishes, I can't even believe I'm a year older now... Wow. For this event.
© kazumiwrites - All rights reserved; please do not steal, edit, copy, repost (etc) my work without my express permission.
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Azul didn't like this.
There you were, sitting all pretty and gorgeous. And he didn't mind that - he loved seeing you.
The problem in question was with Ace.
The first year had been coming up to you what seemed like every day, asking you to go on a date.
And sure, Azul knew that you wouldn't agree - you weren't the type of person to do something like that - but that didn't mean that he wasn't jealous.
He knew that he didn't make your relationship that public. Sometimes holding hands, walking you to class
 That was mostly it. Most of the Octavinelle students, as well as some of the second years, knew, but other than that? Hardly anyone.
And anyways, he didn't want you to get more attention than was necessary.
Maybe Ace didn't know, and that was why he was doing this
 But surely Grim had told him. Unless Grim had a problem with him too

He gritted his teeth as Ace sidled up to you again, a casual arm slipping around your shoulders. Though, a small smile crossed his lips as he saw you shake his arm off.
"C'mon, kantokusei. One date?" Ace nudged you gently, a grin on his face. "C'mon, I know you like me~"
Azul sighed softly, feeling a small pang in his chest. Perhaps Ace wasn't entirely wrong, and that was why you hadn't given him a hard no? Yes, he saw you push Ace away multiple times, tell him to stop
 But obviously it hadn't been harsh enough to drive off Ace.
Still, a nagging feeling in him told him that perhaps you weren't able to be assertive enough to get Ace to listen. Maybe he should jump in

Over the past couple of weeks, you had gradually grown uncomfortable around Ace. You viewed him as a friend - just that, nothing more and nothing less.
But he seemed to view you as something more. And that definitely made you feel less than friendly toward the first year.
Even as he tried to touch your arm again, you whacked his hand away. "Stop it, Ace."
"But-"
The orange-haired male was cut off as Azul walked up to the two of you, a casual arm wrapping around your waist as he pulled you closer to him.
"What seems to be the matter?" Azul's voice, though polite, had a bit of an edge to it. His eyes were slightly narrowed, annoyance flashing in his gaze.
"Hey, I was just being friendly toward kantokusei, and teasing them a little bit-"
"That is definitely not the case, and both of us know it. Find another person because kantokusei-san belongs to me."
Azul's voice was cold - it was pretty clear that he was at his limit.
Ace seemed to back off after that, turning and walking away. You breathed a sigh of relief before you looked at Azul.
"Thank you for that," you said softly, moving to hug him tightly.
"Of course. It's my duty as your boyfriend." Azul was glad that you were happy - it seemed he had made the right call. He would have to make sure Jade and Floyd kept a closer eye on Ace
 There was no telling how he could start harassing you again.
Still, as he held you close to him, he felt himself relax. Everything was fine - you were content, you were safe, and most of all? You were his.
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As always, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! ♡ Send your thoughts grr
This post has details for requesting. Please check it out!
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dwtdog · 6 months ago
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slightly longer drabble for fem dnf week day 2đŸ„łđŸ„ł
--
Dream hums as she spins her lock, a song she’d heard on the car radio that morning perpetually stuck in her head. The click of the lock as it reaches each number is in tune with the beat, and it makes her grin something crazy. 
With a final twist, the lock clicks open, and she’s able to swing the door of her locker out, stopping it just in time from hitting her friend, Nic, square in the face. Nic gives her a look, but Dream is hardly fazed- the shorter girl always has plenty of glares to go around. 
The song playing in her head comes to an end as she rifles through her backpack, pulling out the books she won’t need for the rest of the day, and hefting them up and into the locker. She takes a moment to admire it, as she always does. She’d taken care when decorating at the beginning of the year, enlisting her mom and sister to help make some cute decorations, but the star of the show is Dream’s prized collection of magazine cuttings- cheerleaders from all over the country, in all sorts of poses, decorating the entire inside of the locker door. 
She’d been collecting them for years at this point, after begging her parents for a subscription to a cheerleading magazine, and the selection she’d chosen for school had been meant to inspire her. Tricky poses and tight uniforms, all the better to motivate her own performance.
Nic snorts. Dream tilts her head, peering around the edge of her locker, to see Nic crossing her arms and giving her another sort of look. This one is less reproachful and more- knowing. Dream hates it.
“Nicole,” Dream says pleasantly, rearranging the backpack in her arms. “Can I help you?”
“Oh, don't worry about me. I can see you were having some quality time, enjoying those pictures of yours,” Nic responds, shrugging. 
Dream sighs dramatically, taking one last look at the pictures before closing the locker door. Her eyes linger on exposed stomachs and bare shoulders, so perfectly tanned. Her skin just never seems to get that way.
“You wouldn’t get it,” she says, throwing her backpack strap over her shoulder. “All you do is play basketball or whatever. We don’t even have a girls team.”
Nic just laughs, joining Dream as they head for class together. Neither of them like chemistry all that much, but it’s made more enjoyable when they sit together, heads bent over a shared desk as they exchange gossip. The teacher, a senile old man, is too absorbed in drawing meaningless molecular bonds on the board to notice. 
“I heard Jimmy has a new girlfriend,” Nic whispers as soon as they’re seated. She meets Dream’s eyes expectantly, tapping her fingers in rapid succession. “That bitch Tiffany.”
Dream smiles immediately. “Oh, I love Tiffany! Did you see her prom dress last year? The red was so perfect for her.”
“As if!” Nic says, a touch too loud. Dream elbows her in the ribs, giggling. “She stole your boyfriend!” she murmurs, voice peaking with disbelief.
“Oh, but we broke up a week ago?” Dream glances at the board, trying, for a moment, to decipher it. She gets as far as identifying a hydrogen bond before she gives up, turning her full attention back to an indigent Nic. 
Nic just shakes her head, drawing a hand down her face. “Whatever,” she mutters.
The rest of class passes as normal, when Dream starts telling Nic about her upcoming routine for the first football game of the season. She even draws out a few diagrams in the notebook she’s meant to be taking chem notes in, appreciative of Nic’s rapt attention.
When the bell rings, a shrill sound that makes Dream’s ears ache a bit, the two are quick to push their chairs back and collect their things. 
One more period, and they’re free.
Dream likes her English class, and her English teacher, but not their seating chart. The teacher had realized, after the first day, that Dream and Nic were not to be trusted to sit together, so Dream had been assigned a seat in the far back corner of the room, and Nic up at the front. 
It sours her good mood a bit to part ways, but it immediately brightens when she notices a girl in the seat that’d been empty for the first few weeks of year. She’s got dark hair and pale skin, and a pouty look on her face where she’s slumped at the desk.
“I like your shirt,” Dream says when she’s close, hovering in front of the girls desk and looking down at her with wide eyes. 
She glances down, as if reminding herself of what the aforementioned shirt is, before meeting Dream’s gaze with dark eyes. “Thanks,” she smiles, a small thing, and Dream’s heart beats harder for a moment. She loves making friends! “I cut it myself.” She sits up slightly, revealing that the shirt is indeed cropped, falling to just above her belly button. 
“That’s so cool,” Dream gushes, glancing disparagingly down at her own outfit. “I tried that once, but it came out all- weird. Like I didn’t cut it right. Maybe I need to try it again,” she smiles, finally moving to sit at her own desk but keeping her body fully facing the other girl. “What’s your name, by the way? I’m Dream.”
“Dream,” the girl says, her lips moving fully with each letter. “I like that. I’m George.”
It sends a little thrill down Dream’s spine, to see the way George tilts her dead defiantly, as if expecting Dream to push back against her name, or question it. Instead, she says-
“George, George, George,” drawing out the vowels like George had done for her name. It tastes like candy on her lips, addictive. “So cool. Are you new here?”
And that kicks off their conversation. They spend the entirety of English talking and talking, cursory glances to make sure they haven’t been caught the only attention they pay to the material. 
Dream learns that George is from London, that her family had only just moved and she’d had to start late. That she thinks Florida is nice, due to all the sun, and that she likes cats a whole lot. In turn, Dream tells her about her large family, her best friend Nic, and the cheerleading team. 
“Do you like cheerleading?” Dream asks tentatively, tapping her pencil against her thigh. “It’s okay if you don’t obviously, but I kind of talk about it a lot, so, sorry if you don’t.”
“I- I don’t really know?” George says, and Dream notices that her eyes are following the motion of the pencil. “We didn’t really have it at my old school.”
Dream gasps, affronted. “That’s terrible! You have to come to our practice tonight. We’re going through our whole routine, it’ll be like- like a little introduction! Just for you,” she beams, happy butterflies filling her stomach at the thought of George watching her perform. 
“Okay,” George says immediately, smiling right back. It’s at that moment, of course, that the bell rings again. Dream glances at the clock, surprised. It had felt like no time at all, but class really is over. George stands, the skin of her stomach shifting as she does. “See you there, then?”
Dream nods, jumping up from her own seat. “On the field! In an hour,” she adds, scribbling it down on a piece of paper to pass to George, along with the number of her Blackberry. “Text me if you get lost.”
George takes the paper when Dream offers it, their hands brushing in the process. George feels cold, and for a small moment, Dream is half tempted to offer up her jacket. But the moment passes, George tucking the paper into a pocket of hr dark jeans, waving over her shoulder as she leaves. 
Dream doesn’t even notice that she’s been rooted in the same spot, staring, until Nic appears at her side, flicking her shoulder. “Uh, Earth to Dream. Don’t you need to get ready for practice?”
--
George comes to practice that day, and the day after that, and every practice for the rest of the football season. She comes to all the games too, sitting in the same spot on the bleachers every time- the spot with the best consistent view of the cheer team. 
Dream always waves during practice, as many times as she can. It’s harder during games, with her mind entirely focused on the routine and everything she needs to do, but she always looks George’s way, and meets her after each and every game.
George doesn’t have a car- Dream is happy to drive her home. She only accepts half of the time, often citing that she enjoys the fresh air of walking home. Dream does her best to hide it, but George sees the way her face falls when she refuses
Tonight, after the final football game of the season, George accepts happily. It’s a chilly night in December, and she’s only wearing a jacket- Dream’s. It’s bright green, entirely outside of George’s usual range of colors but- it’s Dream’s.
Dream, the delightful idiot who still hasn’t realized she’s totally crushing on George.
It would be fun to watch, if George hadn’t fallen hopelessly in love with the other girl from the moment of their first meeting. Love is probably too strong a word, but she quite likes it. She spends way too much time just turning it over and over in her mind, Dream and love and love and Dream. 
Dream is fighting with the lock across from George as she stands, shivering, outside the passenger door. George doesn’t know how Dream isn’t cold- she’s still got her cheerleading outfit on, their school colors gaudy against her tanned skin, freckles spilling down her bare shoulders. George wants to touch.
Finally, the locks click open, and George is able to open her door, to slide into the roomy seats of Dream’s car. It’s not a particularly nice car, but George loves it because it smells like Dream. 
It also smells and looks a bit like George, a pair of George’s shoes stashed in the back seat, an empty can of her favorite soda left in the cupholder. George and Dream, Dream and George. As it should be.
Dream is smiling when George looks up, her green eyes bright with adrenaline. She’s told George a million times how much fun she has performing her cheer routines, how good she feels when they go off without a hitch. And tonight had been spectacular, even by George’s untrained eye- or, she supposes, her recently trained eye. An entire season of going to games to watch the pretty cheerleader you have a crush on will give you a good idea of the sport. 
“You did good,” George says, flinging her feet up on the dash. “The whole squad did. Everyone around me was super into it.”
Dream touches George’s shoulder for a moment, an excited little motion. She waves her hands as she explains, the car sitting idle as they talk late into the night, as the parking lot empties around them.
George is more than happy to watch her in all her excitement, the way she picks through every motion of the routine, every place she could have done better, every improvement the other girls had made. She’s critical, but encouraging. Sweet, but smart, and George can’t seem to look away from her plush lips. 
“Oh,” she says, after recounting the end of the game, when they’d rushed the field to celebrate. “Jimmy talked to me on the field.”
George wrinkles her nose. “What did he want?”
“He asked if I’d want to go out with him again. He said it just seemed right, since they’d just won,” Dream is growing slightly, and George hates it. Stupid Jimmy and his stupid ideas.
“And?” George prompts, swallowing back the pit of jealousy crawling up her throat, bitter. 
“I told him I was over him,” Dream says, the smile returning to her face, although it’s lost some of its luster. “That he and Tiffany are good for each other.”
“And you meant it?” George asks before she can stop herself, biting her lip as soon as the words have left her mouth. 
Dream’s eyebrows draw together, and her lips twist as she thinks. “I did, yeah,” she says at last. “I mean, obviously. I never really liked him that much. But why’d you ask?”
“Because he’s- y’know- the football star. Hottest guy in school,” she says the last part with a touch too much of the irony that dogs her words anytime she tries to talk about guys like the other girls do. “All the girls love him,” she tacks on, hoping to hide her stumble.
But Dream only meets her eyes with an oddly knowing gaze. But she ruins it when she says- “Well all the other girls haven’t had to kiss him. It’s like making out with a dog, all slobbery.”
“You’ve made out with a dog?” George asks, faux indignation punctuated by a dramatic raise of her hands to clutch at her heart. “That explains everything.”
“Ew- god no, shut up George, oh my god,” Dream stumbles, giggling. “It was a metaphor. Maybe if you paid any attention in English you’d get it.”
But George is already laughing, chest shaking with it. She has to bring her legs down to rest on the floor, doubling over as Dream continues to protest. They both quiet down after a long few moments, and George sits up to see Dream staring right at her, eyes wide. 
“What- Is there something on my face?” George asks, yanking down the mirror to check. 
“No, no,” Dream says, voice oddly pitched up. “It's just uh- you have a really nice laugh, George.”
George feels the blood flow to her cheeks, heating her face in an instant. “Oh, uh, thanks Dream. You too,” and now it’s her turn to stumble over the words, her eyes darting anywhere but Dream’s face.
“And you have nice hands,” Dream continues, like a dam has been opened. “Like, look, okay, hold yours up.” And Dream holds up a hand between them, fingers spread. George, entirely at her mercy, obeys, holding her hand up to Dream’s.
Her mouth waters when she sees the way her fingers are dwarfed by Dream’s, the way they fit together perfectly. It’s as if all function in her mind grinds to a halt, entirely focused on the point of contact. 
“Wow,” Dream breathes, seemingly in the same position as George. She bends the tips of her fingers so they fold over the top of George’s, only serving to further emphasize the difference. She’s so warm, and George is so gone. 
It’s a rash decision, to move her hand so that their fingers slide together, palms pressed together. It’s even better than before, all-encompassing and George has to bite back a squeak when Dream squeezes, as if testing something.
“This is nice,” Dream says at last, like nice is the sort of word that can encompass the thoughts racing through George’s mind, surely escaping her, projecting her feelings all over the small interior of the car. “Your hands feel so- so different from uh, Jimmy’s,” she says, and flexes her fingers again.
George takes a breath. 
“Good different?” George presses, already knowing the answer. She’s suddenly very aware of how alone they are, how empty the parking lot is. How no one would see if she leaned in, if they-
“Yeah. Really good,” Dream says. She lets her hand fall, drawing George’s with it, to rest in the space between them. And George can see her face again, the way pink dusts her cheeks, the way her pupils have doubled in size.
“Interesting,” George says, like she isn’t buzzing to take and take and take.
“Have you ever had a boyfriend?” Dream asks suddenly, her eyes flicking to somewhere just over George’s head. “If you want to say, I guess. You just never really talk about dating, so I don’t know if you’re comfortable-”
“Nah,” George says, cutting her panicked ramble off and squeezing her hand comfortingly. “I was never really interested in-” boys “-dating.”
“Oh,” Dream tilts her head, as if considering. “So you’ve never- You’ve never kissed anyone before?”
George shrugs. “Uhm, I guess not.” She shifts in her seat, Dream’s gaze hot on her face. “And no, I haven’t kissed any dogs, before you ask.”
That gets a smile and a laugh out of Dream, and George relaxes marginally. Until, of course, Dream says-
“Do you want to try?” 
George blinks at her. Dream blinks back, her makeup somehow still perfect even after an entire cheer routine. Her lips are deliciously pink, and George knows she sees the way her eyes linger there.
“You’d let me?” George asks, breathless. It’s too open, too indicative of the unspoken truth of her existence but- It’s Dream. 
Dream’s throat bobs as she swallows. “I would. It’d be- fun. I think.”
“Okay,” George says.
“Okay,” Dream says.
And George leans in, disconnecting their fingers when she realizes the angle will be off. She sees the way Dream’s eyes flick to their separated hands, the small look of disappointment, before she’s leaning in too, eyes sliding shut. George keeps hers open until the last moment, until her lips touch Dream’s and the world vanishes around them.
It’s a sweet, gentle kiss. Dream, conscious of George’s inexperience, probably, barely moves, just letting the moment go on and on. George wants to live in it forever, but she also wants to move.
So she pulls back, but only just. Dream is slow to reopen her eyes, lips still parted as she stares and stares at George.
“Again?” George asks. Dream nods. “But- You can move this time, okay?” Their lips are nearly brushing already. “Show me.”
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liliawrizz · 2 years ago
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Hi Lila!💟 excited to read more yandere stories on here. Hope you are doing well! If possible can you do a stranger things character (you can pick your fav. character or characters) with a shy, introverted reader? Headcanons or a blurb is good. đŸŒ»
— yandere steve harrington x gn! shy / introverted reader
★ ─── ! TW ! this will, of course, include yandere tendencies. yandere tendencies might include stalking, murder, kidnapping, and drugging. if any of these make you uncomfy, feel free to scroll past. i’m not responsible for your media consumption in any way!
★ ─── ! A/N ! hi pook pook đŸ„ł i’ve finally got motivation to write! this is the first thing i’m writing on this blog so pls give me constructive criticism.
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steve is a very motherly type of person. he’s overprotective of you no matter how extroverted or introverted you are.
fortunately, you being introverted makes his job 10x easier. he wants you to avoid others and only make contact with him.
but there was one issue. since you were so introverted, it was hard for him to open up with you and befriend you.
not only were you introverted, but you were shy as well. though after some snooping and stalking, he was able to determine your interests.
this made him befriending you go way smoother. you were cautious when steve first introduced himself to you.
he had a reputation to be sorta rude at times. you weren’t sure if he was just doing a dare by his friends or not.
it was suspicious how someone as popular as him was out here talking to a secluded person like you. but you did end up becoming great friends!
his plan was working just like how he hoped it would! soon, you became dependent on him to defend you from bullies.
you didn’t want to seem overly dependent on him but you struggled to say something back or even fight back.
steve didn’t mind at all! in fact, he was over the moon that you were beginning to depend on him for protection.
it meant that you were beginning to find trust in him. enough trust to tell him about these bullies. enough trust to cling to him all throughout the day.
you soon stopped sitting alone in classes or at lunch. you sat with steve, jonathan, and nancy at lunch and with only steve during classes.
the ones you shared, at least. in classes he didn’t share with you, he constantly thought about you and your well-being at that moment.
once classes were released, he immediately made his way to your classroom to try and get to you before anyone else does.
steve soon found out where you lived after driving you home one day. he used that information for his own personal uses.
these uses ranged from stalking you whenever he felt like it, and picking you up for school or hangouts.
steve didn’t like how you had nancy and jonathan as friends but he knew he couldn’t bring himself to hurt his friends.
he just asked them about what you did during the classes any of them shared with you or if you had made any new friends.
they were his information outlets that he relied on for his own advantage. you never knew nancy and jonathan were telling steve about your life and day.
but what would you do about it? he only wants to look out for you and do what’s best for you. anyone who tried to befriend you only wanted to hurt you! why couldn’t you see that?
he wouldn’t resort to kidnapping you unless you somehow gained popularity among the school and constantly get talked to.
if he does kidnap you, he’s as gentle as possible with you. he doesn’t tie you up. he just locks you in a room that’s very comfortable and cozy.
steve wouldn’t tie you up unless he feels you’re plotting something or if you successfully escape and he finds you.
if he does catch you after running away, expect a lecture about how you’re putting yourself in danger.
just don’t say anything except an apology. if you cooperate with him, he’ll cool off way quicker and untie you faster.
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© @liliawrizz 2023 - do NOT modify, translate, or repost my writings on any platform without my permission!!
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cyanicus · 10 months ago
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✹I did it! I graduated college!✹ đŸ„łđŸŽŠ
ngl, college for me was.. well, rough. I started at uni all the way back in fall 2017 (lol yes, it was that long ago). I was going through my classes at a steady pace, on track to graduate within the typical 4 year timeline and all that, but then the pandemic hit in late 2019; I moved back home when I heard about it, but then I had no choice but to also withdraw from my old school, since they didn't offer online degrees.
When I transferred, I lost most of my credits because my last school only had a "pass/fail" grading system and most schools only accept transfer credits with letter grades. I had to do lots of credit appeals, placement tests, and repeats of classes I had already passed at my previous school... needless to say, the whole thing ended up setting me back a few years.
On top of everything else, my physical and mental health have both taken a turn for the worst. Doing full-time online school means rarely leaving your computer (especially when the pandemic was going on and staying indoors all the time became normal), so I've developed a very poor posture over the past few years. I keep spraining my wrists from overuse, and have needed to make regular visits to a chiropractor 💀 My sleep schedule has also been terrible. I won't even get into how bad my mental health has been. I've struggled with it for most of my life, but seriously wtf, I did not sign up for this x _ x
But now that I've earned my degree, I'm so happy that I have one less thing to worry about :"D I finally get to move forward in my life again, I finally have time to do the things I've been wanting to do for so long; finding a steady job, making plans with my boyfriend, restoring my body and mind back to a healthier state (hopefully better than ever), and generally making sure that the remainder of my 20s are well spent.
...
First thing I'm gonna do though is make up for all the years of sleep deprivation!!! Goodnight~😊💙
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