#how to sell shop equipment

[lixbf]

so i completely robbed that coin vault and i am now too rich for my own good probably

[teastyun]

༻ pound town

arcane sevika x female reader (nsfw)

a/n: i'm going to war (exam phase is about to start), therefore i must make haste (my hiatus starts again). also, i got a new job so i'm not sure when my hiatus will end :(

pt. 1 ; masterlist

grabbing the broom from the back of your mechanics shop, you start you usual closing routine as the streets of Zaun more active as the day ends. growing up in Zaun, you appreciate the livelihood of the people, but grew wary of the criminality rising abruptly at the end of each day. enforcers started to patrol the quiet streets of Zaun and hang up missing posters of Jinx, who you've been visited by for several occasions over the last few months for tech equipment she required. you grew fond of the girl and would occasionally even slip a few extra pieces, and she would thank you proudly by telling you about her latest new technological improvements.

one time, she told you about a prosthesis as her newest invention. Sevika immediately came to your mind and the way she held your cheek the last and first time you saw her. or the way her bionic arm held your hips so strongly as you rode her strap. shit, you really are down bad for this woman who doesn't even know your name.

as several months gone by since then, you managed to gather your savings and invest it into your shop for new techs and products to sell. you were finally able to call your shop your full time job and scrap your shifts at the brothel completely. Sevika didn't only save your shop, but she saved you from drowning in exhaustion as the only thing you ever did was work day and night.

you hoped to see her again, but your hope was slowly scarped as each month passed by.

after sweeping the last corner of your shop, you only had to rearrange your products before you could finally leave to go home. as you tidied the screws collection, the door to your shop opened audibly by your crystals dangling from the person entering.

"we're closed-" you start, but stop as you see the person at the entrance.

there she was, standing in her usual cloak and a hood that hid her face, but you recognised her nonetheless. she took her hood off with a smile as she looked at you. "good to see you again."

suddenly, you felt naked again. although she knew your identity (prolly even the whole time), the mask would hide your facial expressions and reactions. now, you are standing there with a shocked impression written on your face, unsure of how to react to the person that is the reason for your shop to still be alive.

"i see you created something out of this shop since the last time I've seen you," she speaks with a soft smile on her lips as she takes a look around in your shop. "thank you. you were actually a huge help last time we've seen each other," you respond, your hands linked together behind your back as you turn to look around your shop.

honestly, your shop is quite shady from outside with its half-broken broken neon sign spelling the name mechs n' treasures. but once you enter, you quickly realise that it's a one man's business by it's intricate appearance. it has so much personality now that you have as much time as you'd like to spent in it, decorating it with your favourite things you've collected over the years that weren't too precious to be displayed in your small flat above your shop. a few colourful crystals dangle around your entrance and the door to your flat, reflecting the neon lights from the streets of Zaun onto the mechanic pieces you sell. tidiness is your top priority, since it's hard to keep such an old shop neat and clean. you love your old and shady, but precious personal shop and wouldn't wish it to be any different. business seemed to be booming recently, too. you had no idea why, but Zaun is a quick and fast learning city with its advantages and disadvantages, resulting in people visiting your shop to buy the pieces they require for their newest project.

now, Sevika is standing in the centre of your shop, taking one of the mechanical pieces into her hands and looking at it in detail.

"can i help you with something?" you ask, looking at her with curiosity. after she puts the mechanic piece back into its tray, she says "I was hoping you could me out with this."

she reveals her bionic arm, where you see the its shimmer capsules completely shattered. surprised, you walk towards her and take her bionic arm into her hand to have a closer look. you inhale her smoky scent and suddenly were confronted with a vivid memory of the first night you guys met at the brothel, as you sat in her lap writhing under her touch. focus. you twisted a few pieces to inspect the reachability of the broken capsules. "I assume you won't be able to take it off?" you ask her, your eyes still fixed on an odd piece you've found.

she shakes her head, "it would be a hazard trying to put it on afterwards. do you think you'll still manage to repair, though?"

after twisting the last few pieces for inspection, you leave her arm. "shouldn't be no issue," you take a look at your wristwatch and notice how late it already is. a few extra minutes won't hurt, you decide.

you nod towards the counter, "take a seat, i'll be right with you."

entering the back of your shop and take a big breath. fuck, this intimidating woman still effects you after several months. at this point, you were sure you even forgot about her.

you grab your toolbox and head to Sevika, who is waiting for you behind your counter on a chair. her cloak is thrown over your register's desk, revealing a similar outfit you saw at the brothel. only now you realise how muscular this woman actually is. her arm is almost fully exposed by her sleeveless top and a choker around her neck makes you shake off your dirty thoughts.

you place the toolbox on the counter before you take a seat next to it. Sevika watches every move of yours, making you even more nervous than you already are.

grabbing your first tool, you lay her arm in you lap and start unscrewing the plates that cover the isolation of the shimmer capsules. her arm felt heavy, but oddly warm in your lap for the fact that it's broken. you remember how the same arm pinned you down on her strap a few months ago.

your brain is almost about to malfunction if Sevika wouldn't have interrupted your thoughts, "so, how is your shop going?" she asks as she leans the side of her upper body on the counter. when you look down at her, she's only mere centimetres away from your face. her grey eyes digging into yours. your pussy clenches as your breathing stops at the sight of her. you quickly look away and focus on her arm again. "it's going well," you start and grab for another tool to remove the shattered pipes. "sometimes it's exhausting to handle a shop alone, but you get used to it, you know."

her eyes follow your movements on her arm while she hums as an indication for you to continue. "once, a dude i recognised from the brothel came to pick up a few things and i couldn't help but wonder what his day job is. he was a sex worker as well, so he probably even recognised me," you tell her. it's unusual for you to share thoughts and memories of your old job. you weren't ashamed of it, but you much happier spending your time in your own shop and not thinking back to your old routine.

she shifts in her seat to look up at you, "i'm glad you were able to escape that shit hole, beautiful," she says quietly, careful of the words she chooses, "do you still remember that night?"

your movements halt immediately at her questions and you felt her eyes laying heavily on you, watching every single movement. the way you took a deep breath, trying not to appear nervous around her. the mere thought of that night made you feel butterflies in your stomach and wetness in your core.

"i do," you confess. without meeting her eyes, you continue your maintenance on her bionic arm in your lap, trying to suppress the urge of jumping into her lap and kissing her senseless. "do you?" you ask in almost a whisper, unsure if you even wanted to know the answer.

when she didn't, your eyes travelled to hers in question. she seemed to be in deep thoughts as well before she asked "how couldn't i?"

her eyes finally meet yours and you recognise such sincerity and trust in them, you couldn't help the soft smile that sneaks onto your lips.

"you were the only thing on my mind in this cruel world," she continues, making you feel several things at once. "and i don't even know your name."

you chuckled and referred your eyes back to your almost finished work, concentrating on exchanging the pipes.

"so, you're not even going to tell me?" she asks amused.

"what, my name?" you act oblivious, knowing exactly what she wanted. now it was her turn to chuckle at your teasing. "you can be a pain in the ass, you know that?"

you shake your head in disbelief with a smile on your lips as you screw on the last iron plate on her arm.

"move it," you command and she obliges. she moves her joints, making the shimmer that was left in her tank fuel her new pipe, while moving it a few more times in several directions. you've never seen machinery working with shimmer so closely. you wonder how the metal felt like against your skin.

ripping you out of your trance, she stands up. right in front you, almost between your legs, which you desperately wanted to close at the sight as you felt your pussy clench.

"thank you," she looks at you, her eyes wandering from your neck down to the rest of your body. it's like she can't help herself, checking you out as you sit on her cloak next to your work instruments.

"you even look beautiful in your casual attire," she whispers as her eyes meet yours again.

"so," you wrap your index finger through her choker, "how about taking it off and see what's hidden underneath?" you cock your head before you pull her closer. your legs are opened by her thighs between them as she looks down at you, clearly surprised by your boldness. "i don't fuck nameless girls," she says in an equal tone to her low chuckle.

you take a quick look at her lips, wondering what they would feel like on yours. "didn't seem so last time we've seen each other."

your finger is still wrapped around her chocker as you grin. she didn't answer. she knows you're messing with her.

she places her arms on each of your sides, the sounds of her bionic arm moving leaving a shudder throughout your body. she's dangerously close.

"if i remember correctly, last time you've fucked yourself, princess."

shocked by her comment, your grin fades as you suddenly remember how you rode her in that brothel, eagerly chasing your orgasm as she guided you through it.

you let go of her choker and rest your hand at the back of her neck instead, caressing the soft strands of brunette hair as you try to maintain yourself.

"y/n," you whisper. Sevika's eyes widen at first, but a slight grin sets on her lips at the sound of your name.

"beautiful name, princess," she whispers back and you feel her breath on your lips with each sound she speaks.

you close your eyes as you feel her full lips grazing yours. "y/n," she whispers repeatedly. her lips finally touch yours, first cautiously but confident after a few seconds of lingering. you copy her motions and gasp when her tongue grazes your lower lip.

pressing her more firmly against yourself, you part your lips for her tongue to enter. she faintly tastes like cigarettes, but more of a harsh liquor you can't really pinpoint. your arms cling desperately around her neck, feeling her torso pressed around yours in your heated kiss. you lock her against your core with your legs around her hips, moaning as she leaves your lips to leave kisses on your neck. "you have no idea how often i thought of kissing you," she whispers before she trails down kisses to your exposed shoulder and collarbone, licking the line of it and pressing soft bites against your sweet spots.

instead of responding, you pull her up again and lock your lips together. you press your lower body against her in search of the friction you desperately seek, but with no success. her lips form into a smirk against your lips as she realises what you're seeking.

frustrated, you separate yourself from her and motion for her to step aside, so you could jump of the counter. "i have a bed upstairs," you tell her. Sevika stands there confused, but god does she look hot. her lips are glazed from your spit and her hair looks slightly tousled from your hand that clung to it.

she doesn't let you move, though. instead, her hands are pressed firmly on your side as she still stand between your legs. "i thought that might be more comfortable..." you say, unsure of the current situation. she shifts in her stance to let you stand up.

"fuck, yes. i mean, yes, let's go upstairs," she chuckles after stumbling over her own words and her bionic arm moves to gesture you to lead the way. you laugh at her sudden awkwardness but go ahead to lock up your shop.

walking up the stairs, you fumble for your home's keys. Sevika followed you closely behind, touching your waist and kissing your neck as you try to unlock the door, a sigh escapes your lips as you try to unlock your door.

as the door closes behind you, she pins you against it. her hand holds your wrist against the door as she kisses you feverishly. her bionic arm slips beneath your ass to lift you up, so you could wrap your legs around her hips. you press your breasts against her, trying to seek for any further touches. "the bed, Sev," you say between kisses, too occupied to actually resist her touch.

she ignores your words and losses her grip on your wrists instead to wander to the buttons of your shirt, never breaking the kiss. "patience, beautiful," she whispers as her lips leave yours to press a kiss on your cheek. "we have all night, right?"

your arms find their way back around her neck, playing with her loose hair. "please," you respond, your eyes making contact with hers. you peck her lips before you say, "i want to touch you, too."

her head falls onto your shoulder as she groans, "you make me loose my composure so easily," before looking back into your eyes with need and desperation "do you realise that?"

you grin at her confession and kiss her hot and wet, moaning into the kiss as she continues to unbutton your shirt until your bra is exposed to her hand. she grazes the outlines with her fingertips, making a shudder run through your body as you gasp. you press your chest into her touch and she gladly responds with cupping your breast while biting your lower lip.

her index finger grazes your puffy nipple through your bra and you can't help the moan that escapes your lips.

she pecks you one last time with a smile, before looking around your small flat, seemingly inspecting your small setup where your bedroom and living room are combined to your cozy grove.

her hand moves to your back, stabilising you in her arms before she finally heads to your bed to lay you down on it, watching you as you lay there with your undone shirt and the few strands that escaped your hairstyle completely wordless.

similar to her, you exhale at the sight in front of you. Sevika is still fully clothed, so you pull her down by her collar to kiss her hard, wrapping your legs around her waist to pull her body on top of you. "take this off," she whispers against your lips, her bionic hand gripping your shirt as her hand sneaks behind your neck to tilt your head for her to suck.

she kisses and bites your sweet spot, disrupting your motion of pulling your shirt off and making your eyes roll back in pleasure. you moan her name in frustration before she finally let's go.

"this too," she tells you as she eyes every little detail on your torso. when you take your bra off, her bionic hand cups your breast. the sharp and cold details of her metallic hand exposed on one of your most sensitive parts of your body leave you breathing hard, moaning as her pointy fingers pinch and twist your nipple. "you have no idea how often i thought of touching them since that night," her eyes are not leaving your chest as she confesses.

"you could've touched them that night," you respond, your hand finding the back of her head as you play with her small ponytail. after hearing your words she looks at you, almost with a shocked expression on her face. "there's no way i would have touched you without your consent," she tells you. surprised by this sudden turn, you move up to rest your weight on your elbows, looking at her in disbelief. "but you payed for that night with me," you state, still confused by what she just said.

she's just as surprised as you, cupping your cheek softly as she spoke, "y/n, i would never do anything to you without your consent. do you know that?" she asks you, her eyes never leaving yours as she spoke. you've never experienced any sex partner expressing their respect to you verbally. and fuck, this is probably the moment you realise you have feelings for this woman in front of you. you nod in response, still overwhelmed from your thoughts and feelings. she smiles at you as she says, "good girl."

your soaking pussy almost purred at that nickname. kissing her quick but softly, you grind your clothed hips against hers as you kiss a trail down her neck to her exposed collarbone.

she exhales heavily at your motions before saying, "tell me what you want, beautiful."

"i want you to fuck me," you respond after hesitating, still nibbling at her collarbone as a soft moan escapes her.

"with this," you continue as you grind stronger onto her clothed cunt than before.

her bionic arm holds herself on the bed as her fingers trace your curves. "with my fingers?" she teases as she opens your trousers with her other hand slowly.

your lips move up to her ear, licking and biting her soft skin. "no," you whisper, "with this."

you press the seam of her jeans with your fingers against her clit, making her grip your hips hard from your sudden touch. "fuck," she mutters in response, clearly trying to compose herself before she continues to fully undress you.

"under one condition," she starts as she takes in your naked body with hungry eyes, "i'll have a taste before i fuck you," she unbuttons her shirt, revealing a dark bandeau bra beneath. she's in a hurry, so she won't bother to take off her unbuttoned shirt, but moves on by removing her jeans as well as underwear in one go.

you try to take a peek at her body, but she immediately kneels between your legs to kiss the soft skin of your thighs, dragging her motions slowly to your soaking pussy as her hands hold you firm beneath her touch. feeling her breath on your clit, you whine from sensitivity, gripping the sheets beneath you as she finally tastes you for the first time.

both of you moan from the touch, your hips stutter beneath her strong hands. she eats you out like a starving woman, humming at the sounds you're making. your clit is circled by her tongue as she softly bites and sucks before your legs start shaking from the pleasure that builds up in your lower belly.

she moves her arm from your thigh to press softly against it, realising how close you are. "come on my tongue," she tells you, intensifying her motions as you come hard. the way you moan her name sounds similar to a scream, your thighs pressing against her head as you throw your head back in pleasure.

she gently guides you through it by licking in decreasing motions, careful of your sensitivity. as your calming down, she kisses your clit one last time before she straightens herself to watch you after your first high.

her lips and chin are glistening from her pussy and strands that were originally framing her face now hang loosely. "you did so well, beautiful," she whispers, climbing on top of you to press kisses into your face. "fuck, you really sent me to another dimension," you confess, laughing a litte at the absurdity. she chuckles at your words, grinning as she examines your face.

"are you still down for another round?" she asks carefully, giving you the space you might need, but you nod as you smile at her. she kisses you before she straightens again to manhandle your legs, placing one on her shoulder as she moves her own over your other to align with your pussy, not starting just yet. she caresses the long on her shoulder as she presses kisses along with it.

she looks absolutely breathtaking while doing it. you feel her pussy kissing yours, and fuck, she's driving you crazy. the unbuttoned shirt exposes the abs you eyed earlier through the tightness of her shirt. her v-line is deeply defined, even more when she starts to slowly grind against you. her pointy bionic fingers suddenly press into your thigh as she gasps from the pleasure she suddenly receives. her grey eyes watch you heavily, making sure you're alright with her pace as she slowly picks it up.

"you feel so good," you whimper as you meet her motions by copying hers, crying from the sensitivity from your earlier orgasm. "fuck- i'm close again."

she grins at your confession, pushing herself harder on your clit as you cry out from the friction. she's mostly quiet, but a gasp escapes her lips anytime you improve your speed.

"come with me, y/n" she leans down, kissing you with so much passion as her eyebrows furrow in pleasure. you moan into the kiss, your breasts moving with each thrust as your nipples graze against the cotton of her bandeau. you felt your orgasm creeping, but you weren't ready for the intensity it comes with. you cry out against her lips, holding her against you as you feel her groaning from her own orgasm. both your hips stutter in your motions before you stop to look at her.

her head rests in the nape of your neck and the only thing you feel is her hot breath against your skin. as you untangle your legs, you kiss on the side of her head. "are you alright?" you ask after several seconds of silence.

she vaguely nods, still maintaining her breath before she answers "you have no idea what you're doing to me."

you smile as you caress her hair through your fingers. "i'd love to figure it out in the future," you continue, making space between your faces so you could look at her as you speak. "this idea you've just mentioned," you clarify as she looks at you speechless.

she kisses you passionately after a few seconds, smiling as she realises what you were suggesting.

"let me take you to dinner after your shift tomorrow?" she asks as her thumb trails your cheekbone. you nod, kissing her on the cheeks before you answer "gladly."

you both fall asleep, and sooner or later date nights with Sevika become your favourite traditions as you two engage in a passionate, but intimate relationship with each other.

tags: @sevsbaby @womenathleteshaveme @macaroni676

masterlist

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Bruce crashed to the ground.

The bright green portal that brought him here snapped shut above him leaving him stranded in an unknown location. He had just managed to stand up when he heard someone call out to him.

"Hey!" A boy with black hair and blue eyes came running up to him, "Are you okay?"

Bruce grunted, glaring at the small creature trailing behind the child through his cowl, "I'm fine. Where am I?"

"You're in Unova, smack dab inside the Pinwheel forest." The kid said, "What an unlucky place to land."

"Unlucky how?"

Aside from giving him a disapproving look, the child was unfazed by his tone. "The Pinwheel forest got its name because its a natural maze. The monsters here are weak but you might find yourself going in circles if you're not careful."

Batman thought for a moment, "monsters?"

The child smiled and Bruce thought he looked like his other children before the boy excitedly introduced his "partner pokemon": Aron

The Aron in question made happy little noises as it approached and nuzzled its metal face into the side of Batmans boot. Cute.

"Oh, by the way, my names Danny. Do you want me to take you to town? There's a professor there that you can talk to. She might not be able to help you get back to your home world but maybe she can find someone who can."

Batman narrowed his eyes at him, "How did you know I wasn't from this world. Thats not usually the first conclution people jump to."

For the first time since Danny had met the Batman he actually squirmed a bit. "Anyway, let's get started! It's a long trek to town!"

It took them about two days to get out of the forest. Danny had thankfully lent him use of his equipment and food. It was nice having a tent to sleep it when the rain hit on the first night, even if it was a little cramped. Aron curled up between them to soak up thier body heat like a housecat.

It was also a relief that Danny could cook, though Bruce had no idea where the child was storing all of this stuff.

Danny ran off into town, saying that people were going to ask a lot of questions if a guy dressed as a bat came strolling into town and if he was going to be staying in this world for a while it was probably best to get him some normal clothes.

Bruce reluctantly agreed and after telling him his sizes the kid ran off to the store, leaving Aron behind to "protect him". Bruce hated relying on a childs generosity to get by.

Soon enough the kid came back with an all black outfit, saying something about it suiting him. Bruce left to change and came back to Danny giving Aron and his other pokemon Staryu some Oran berries.

After that they finally set off to town.

The professor was nice, if infuriatingly calm about giving literal monsters to random children. The professor even offered Bruce a pokemon egg since he was probably going to be in this world a while.

Bruce accepted the gift, wondering what he was getting himself into when Danny got excited.

The child explained that he was a treasure hunter/explorer by trade that survived by finding things he could sell in shops but he wasn't a very strong trainer and had to be careful where he went due to the presence of powerful pokemon.

Danny then asked Bruce to travel with him to be his bodyguard.

Bruce was very displeased to discover people set thier kids loose into a monster infested world around the age of ten and horrified to know the actual survival rate of this stupidity.

Bruce agreed to protect him and got registered as a pokemon trainer and was given the egg and some pokeballs. Danny offered to teach him how to catch pokemon as Bruce planted a listening device somewhere.

They set off back into the pinwheel forest to catch Bruces first pokemon and to start thier journey.

Meanwhile, Dannys excited to travel with someone who seems like a proper dad.

It couldn't hurt to pretend, right?

[cavegirlpoems]

So. Mechanics for this game I'm working on.

Start with a roughly OSR-shaped set of expectations. Classes, levels, XP-for-treasure, hit dice, etc. That gives you a good skeleton for what's here. There's some key differences.

HP is divided into Flesh and Grit. Flesh is your meat points, Grit your not-getting-hit points. Lose Grit first, then flesh. Then when there's no flesh left, take horrible wounds that might disable or kill you.

On death, you have the chance to come back as Undead. Take a level of Creeping Damnation, and switch your nature out to being undead. So long as body and soul are more or less intact, death is a choice to let go, not automatic. It has costs, though - that Damnation.

Speaking Of, Damnation. Creeping Damnation accumulates point-by-point as your soul is eroded. Each point reduces your Grit by 1. Extremely bad news when you've got no Grit left.

The Plague is a thing. It's extremely bad news. Reduce your healing each night (losing HP rather than gaining if its too bad), and your lost HP counts towards your encumbrance. Don't catch the plague, dumbass.

There's a system to track your reputation with various factions in the world. There's a system to track how much of a bounty the Beast's Empire have put on your head. These can fuck you over if you let them get too bad.

You get XP for rescuing people and for killing named, hated enemies. You get XP for treasure, and claiming bounties for capturing/rescuing people.

It's expected that you'll start hiring followers - mercenaries and servants - to accompany you and work for you. What else are you gonna do with all that cash? Long-term, you'll probably invest in building a stronghold somewhere. There's mechanics for pitched battles, for when those soldiers you've hired have to defend that stronghold.

True Names are a thing. Knowing somebody's True Name gives you power over them. In particular, a lot of magic requires the victim's True Name to work, or doesn't let them save to resist it if you use their True Name. You can also invoke it to make magically binding pacts with each other.

While only clerics can create observable miracles, anybody can try praying. A successful prayer does nothing in the game fiction, but can have useful results on the meta-game level, such as nudging random encounter results.

Magic comes in six schools of six spells - Necromancy (dead and undead things), Hypnotism (the mind), Goetia (true names and binding), Transmigration (the soul and the abyss), Alchemy (the elements and materials) and Hermeticism (raw magic and Wizard Shit). Other uncategorised spells are Hedge Magic.

A lot of mechanics - encumbrance, saving throws, shopping, memorising spells, encounters - are present but dramatically streamlined.

Technically it's race + class, but we're ditching the term 'race' and replacing it with 'nature'; it's about your spiritual nature (mortal, demon, undead, etc) rather than your ancestry. Twelve Natures (mortal human, petty demon, mimic, purified one, lycanthrope, ghoul, homunculus, wormwood grotesque, revenant, ghost, soulless waif, vampire). Eight classes (Cleric, Doctor, Knight, Libertine, Outlaw, Professional, Witch, Zealot). Mix and match and add equipment to create characters.

Anyway, I know visuals sell, so have some visuals.

[lumiereswig]

I'm still seeing a lot of angry takes in the tags about how excessive Watcher's current costs are and how all fans really want, apparently, is "just shane and ryan sitting in a basement" back again. While I do think Watcher is probably spending over budget and that's a real issue, a lot of the takes I'm seeing show a fundamental misunderstanding of how video production works and where costs actually lie. So a few quick things that I just keep seeing that are bothering me:

It was never just Shane and Ryan in a basement. BFU did a great job selling that conceit and making sure you never saw anyone beyond them and maybe TJ, but they absolutely had other crew members with them on ghost hunts and they didn't do all the work on BFU themselves. This Q&A from Season 2 lists 36 people on staff for Buzzfeed Unsolved. It's fair to make arguments that Watcher may or may not need 25 people, but those arguments should not be coming from a place of "before it was just Shane and Ryan and nobody else."

If you don't know how many people are needed to make a professional video from a TV/film standpoint, you will not have a reasonable grasp of why Watcher wants to keep 25 people on staff. Sure, some YouTubers get by with a ring light and a contracted editor. The Watcher team have stated repeatedly that they do not want to work as just YouTubers and see themselves more as a production studio—so why do people keep referencing the YouTube model to understand their business? This is like asking the local shake shop why it doesn't function like the kids' lemonade stand down the block. The item category is similar but they're not trying for the same products or process.

The "gold dusted food" is not the big budget sink you think it is. On most TV shows I've worked on it's normal to partner with businesses that are shown onscreen and work out a deal where the price of the product (in this case the gold food) is reduced or eliminated in exchange for the free publicity. Watcher very likely made a deal with every restaurant it worked with to make the Korea trip affordable for the company. The real budget spends are on things you're probably not seeing but that still matter: camera and lighting equipment is expensive, insurance for that equipment is expensive, business overhead and paying your staff are expensive. So again—it's fine to critique Watcher for the streaming plan and the perceived budgetary issues, but go into this knowing the costs might not be coming from the things you see onscreen.

My source is that I work in TV and film and actually have a clue on how the industry functions. Again, 36 people worked on Unsolved (and those were the people mention in Season 2—who knows how big the team blew up past that in later seasons). Entertainment work is real work, and demands decent equipment, competent staff, and the same types of business and budget problems you'd find in any other business (overhead, staffing, etc.). Feel free to critique Watcher's business model, but first try to understand where that model is coming from and what goals it's attempting to serve.

[pinkslaystation]

Ghost of A Connection

Ghost and Staff!Reader

In which you work at the nearest store at base, Ghost being your least favourite and unfortunately, most frequent, customer. Is there a connection there, or is it in his head? yALL - all these COD stories on tumblr got me hyped! So here I am tryna catch some clout ;) Be warned, this is possibly a very inaccurate version of military life, but then again, it's just a story. Word Count: 2.5k

Man, post-graduate life is hard.

Graduating top of your cohort of nearly 300 students in your masters degree within Psychology was impressive. Saving enough money from shadowing your senior Psychology professor and moving out to your apartment was impressive. Owing your own car was impressive.

What wasn't impressive though, was nearly hitting the 6 month mark of unemployment.

So here you are, stuck calling all your classmates for any open roles. You're so desperate at this point, you'd go for anything!

"Hey, Mahir! I know we didn't quite end of good terms...um-you know...when you asked for the mid-terms answers last year, and I- um...left you on delivered, and you had to retake the exams...but um, I hear you started working at the University as a Researcher and you're looking for a assistant? Well gee, don't forget how smart I a-"

Disconnected.

"Yooo, Josephine, it's me! From the Psychopathology group project! Yeah, I'm sorry I shouted at you for not doing your part on the project, and filing a complaint against you, haha...although, like, come on, it's your fault - you're 25, not a 5 year old bab-"

Blocked.

Wow. You were not liked.

So one evening, when you were on the phone to your childhood friend, Jordan Biggs, and had managed to slip out how desperately broke you were, he kindly offered a potential role at his workplace.

"Shop keeper? What, like a convenience store?" Remind me where you work again? Aren't you in the navy? What stores are you talking about?" You rambled, I mean a possible job - finally?!

On the line, Jordan chuckles, "Slow your roll, man. I've been been with the army for around 3 years now, I'm currently on a mission but we'll be home soon. Our base has a shop, that sells, you know, tactical gear-"

"GUNS?!" You interrupted.

Jordan laughs, then in shushed by, what you assume to be his teammate, "No, not any weapons. Just, tactical gear, MREs, bits and pieces of uniform. Sometimes you might be asked to clean the base, set up rooms for meetings. And ooh my favourite - work at the canteen. We serve the country, you serve us food." Jordan explains.

So you complied.

I mean, yeah, your degree isn't being utilised, but we're in a cost of living crisis, for Christ's sake.

And here you are, clad in a plain dark grey fleece, and straight black trousers, trying to look as professional as possible.

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

Your first day was silent. You found that you lived only 30 minutes away from the base, so you didn't struggle with the early shifts, working almost full days at the base, with a surprising decent salary.

You learnt you had replaced the previous worker, Katherine, a grumpy senior who quit, being fed up with the stench of these sweaty unkempt soldiers, and their rowdy behaviour after missions.

You also met your staff at the base, being the youngest one there gave you no surprise, with most your colleagues being double your age. You liked it. It was quiet, having met a few of the soldiers.

Your role was relatively simple. Consisting of various tasks such as ordering enough food to satisfy the recruits, more training equipment, when a recruit seemed to damage one. All in all, you were satisfied, especially when the first pay day rolled in.

You also noted that your colleagues, without fail, always seem to talk about a specific group of soldiers, such as Friday evening, when you all found yourself eating an early dinner.

"Soap is so sweet! He's always so generous when we talks to me, although I can't lie, I don't know what the fuck he says half the time." Your colleague rambles, shoving a spoon full of Friday's roast dinner into his mouth.

Another agreed, "Nothing beats the dilf of a man - Captain John Price. I may be chewing steak but that ain't the meat I want in my mouth, if you get what I mean-"

You choked, "Margaret, you're married with grand-kids, lord."

After a quiet but much needed conversation, you learnt about the most well-known team within the base, Task Force One-Four-One, lead by Captain John Price, forming of Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish, Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, and the one you were most curious about - Simon 'Ghost' Riley.

"But like, why Ghost? If he's close to this Soap dude, why not call yourself Shampoo or something?"

Your colleagues laughed at your naivety glancing at each other.

"My dear, I don't dare to call him anything other than Lieutenant. He's entered a 10 metre radius of mine, and I've already pissed myself." One stated.

"I've heard he threatened to attack Katherine, just because she overcharged him, long story short, she quit." Another replied.

It seemed you didn't understand how feared Ghost really was...

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

By the time you all had finished dinner, the staff split up, some going back to the canteen to prepare dinners for the soldiers finishing training, some going to clean up the barracks, and you found yourself going back to your designated shop.

Aah, this is peaceful. You mumbled, drinking your hot chocolate, whilst sorting out all the army boots on display.

As the clock strikes 10 p.m. though, the silence is broken and you hear a stampede of soldiers, once you assume had come back from a month long mission. The majority of them, from what you'd heard, sprinted to the canteen to rid themselves of their strictly MRE diet, and finally eat some home cooked food, whilst others ran off to their freshly cleaned barracks to get some well-deserved sleep.

Your little shop also seemed to be quite busy, a long queue waiting to buy water bottles, bandages, blankets, you name it. From nearby chatter from the tired soldiers, it seems most of the teams had arrived back from Afghanistan, a successful mission with no death and a few minor injuries.

An hour goes by and the queue dies down to around 6 people, with one at the till: Jordan.

"So a water bottle, that would be £1.50, payin- my God, Jordan?" You smiled, getting in front of the counter and pulling into a hug. He smelt like dusty and you joked that 1 bottle of water wouldn't suffice to rinse him of the smell.

"I haven't seen you in forever, it's been like 6 months? How's the job been treating you?" He enquiries, placing a kiss against your forehead. By now, the nearly empty shop turns to face the both of you, many assuming the situation to be a couple reuniting.

You and Jordan continue to catch up on everything - his mission, your job...Margaret's obsession with which positions she can take Captain Price in...

"Bro, she was going so in depth into the many ways she can contort her waist for, what she calls, the Price penis?!" You pull your most fake-disgusted face, as Jordan cackles loudly.

But his laugh falls short as a deep scruffy voice interrupts him-

"The only thing being wasted right now, is my time. Hurry the fuck up and pay for your shit. You act like we have all the time in the fucking world."

You jump slightly at the harsh words, although this is a military base, you should be used to this foul language.

"My guy, she said waist, not waste-" Jordan begins, before straightening his back and realising who he was talking to.

He turns around to face the man's voice, his back now turned to you, obstructing your view of the unknown soldier.

"Lie-Lieutenant. My apologies! Lemme grab this water and get out of your way," Jordan nervously chuckles, you can't see who he's talking to, but you can tell this was a man of higher authority, given how Jordan stutters. "Ooh, I see what you wanted to buy! Gloves, nice, socks, cool, Coc-Coco pops?!"

"My fucking God Biggs, the only thing big about you is your stupidity and your pussy attitude, grab your shit and go. Stop holding the fucking line, mate." The male's British accent is so prominent with every word enunciated, and you wish to never run into this stranger again.

"Sir!" Jordan turns to you, handing you a fiver and awkwardly side hugging you, "Have fun with this jerk wad." He whispers into your hair, before running out the shop, his water bottle still on the counter.

"Jordan your bottle-"

Holy shit.

After Jordan moves, your eyes feast before you, revealing a godly 225 lb man, standing at an impressive 1.89 metres, dressed in his dark and intimidating casual attire, his face hidden behind a skeleton mask, his piercing eyes squinted and penetrating into your shorter frame, his biceps bulging out of his sweatshirt, his shoulders broad, his trousers failing to hold his impressive bulg-

"Are you going to continue gawking at me like a fuckin' donkey or should I not pay for this shit?" He huffs out in disappointment.

Rude. Plain rude. Sexy...but rude.

Now you know why Jordan couldn't move a muscle when faced with this guy. Putting 2 to 2 together, you clocked. The way other soldiers left the shop as he entered. The way one look from him gets them to shut up so quickly. The skeleton mask-

This is Ghost.

"We- I- Um-" What the hell? Why can't you form a damn sentence?

"I- I- I don't give a damn. My shit, here." He mocks you, slamming his items on the counter. By now, the other customers have scurried off in fear. It's now you and Ghost in the shop.

You nod, humming a yes, eyebrows furrowing at his unkind words.

The next few moments are followed by near silence, the only sounds being the scanning of the items and your quickening breath. His foot begins tapping rapidly, as sign that you're taking to long.

It's uncomfortabl-

"The old hag before you's gone then."

Yes, Ghost, she is. And if you keep acting like this, I will be too. You grunt a response, unable to find the right words.

"£28.50" You say curtly, after a while. He hums in response, pulling his wallet to pay.

You watch him nervously, you did not expect to see one of the most respected soldiers in front of you so soon. Someone so handsome, someone so fucking sexy, but someone so fucking bitchy...

Oh. You said that last bit out loud.

Ghost pauses his actions, his head slowly craning upwards, his gaze drinking you in.

Your eyes meet his, quickly looking back at the counter, unable to meet his furrowed but amused glare.

"'m so bitchy, but you seem to love it, sweetheart. So red, like you're fucking in love with me or something." He scowls, slapping a £20 note on the counter.

"Maybe next time stopping droolin' over other men when you have your own cunt of a boyfriend." He mutters, before taking his shit and leaving. You don't fail to catch the smirk in his voice, as he exits your shop, loud footsteps booming behind him.

Oh my god.

You were at a loss of words. You were also at a loss of £8.50.

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

"Jordy, you don't fuckin' get it! Dickhead left the place, without paying the full fucking price, mind you." Frustration was evident in your voice.

"Bitchy and broke," Jordan snickers.

"And the audacity to call you my boyfriend? Bye." You huff in annoyance, whilst Jordan chokes on his spit. If anything, he was a like a brother to you!

A week has gone by since that first encounter and your conversations with Jordan at the shop, when he passes by, always seem to end up at the topic of Ghost. The way he glares at you as you walk past him in the corridors. The way he sees you struggling when you carry boxes upon boxes- oh he won't help you, by the way. When you ask, he simply scoffs, "You're getting paid and you don't even want to do your job?"

Since that day, you've met all of the Task Force members. Price was as Margaret mentioned, sexy. Soap, comical, Gaz, kind-hearted, Ghost...yeah, he's there.

"But you don't get it man, he's so big- like over 6 foot! And those eyes- man those eyes. So condescending...but so hot..." you continue.

"Damn Margaret wannabe, we get it." Jordan jokes, drinking his can coke - which he didn't pay for. You'll tell him later.

As you both converse, loud footsteps enter the store.

Ghost. Again.

Did I mention he's been in here every day since the first time?

8 a.m. sharp, the moment you clock in for your shift, and 10 p.m. on the dot. Fucker's so annoying, he'll stay around the shopfloor, lazily looking at the various protein bars, even after you state the shop is already 10 minutes past closing.

But you don't mind. His silently stares at you, as if trying to remember the exact location of every beauty spot on your face, the consequent reddening of your cheeks, the slight touches of his rough callous fingers brushing against your own. All this unspoken tension, leads to your every thought being consumed by Simon Riley.

And when he enters the shop, wow. Buys the most random unnecessary shit ever. You notice how he walks in and purchases his singular Coco Pops cereal bar, day after day. This man isn't sick of them?

I mean, come o-

"Your obsession with me is flattering." He states.

Oh, forgot to mention, he's still an asshole. But at least after rehearsing to yourself in the mirror, you can actually speak up for yourself.

"Guh- buh- we- u-" Fuck's sake.

But he actually laughs this time. A loud imploding chuckle exits his mouth, and you actually smile a little at this unfamiliar emotion.

You can't tell what his face is doing under the mask, but his voice suggests a small smile rests on his face, but it soon disappears before he coughs awkwardly.

"Your boyfriend's in the infirmary by the way." He looks away, emphasising boyfriend a little too roughly.

You stare in confusion. Boyfriend? He picks up on this.

"Biggs. Rolled his ankle or some shit. Dunno why he can't just man it up. I've had worse injuries." He mumbles, smiling under his mark slightly, assuming Jordan isn't in fact your boyfriend.

Your eyes widen, "Jordy? Wha-who-how?"

"He-" But before he can answer your question, you're running out the shop to the infirmary, stealing a snack from the shelf for Jordan.

You fail to notice that you'd left a dejected Ghost at the counter, who'd picked up 2 coco pops instead of 1 this time, his smile faltering, as he planned to give you the 2nd, as a token of apology for his impolite behaviour.

In the end, he realised he'd been holding onto a ghost of a connection, overshadowed by the presence of another man.

He winces, being left alone at the till, hoping to actually strike up a conversation with you, as he gathers his (unpaid) belongings and walks out the door, off to shout at any rando that dares get in his way.

yALL its 2.30 a.m. and i'm craving coco pops-

[sirianasims]

Chapter 44.1

Girls on Millionaires

“Samara, this is hopeless.”

“It’s been five minutes, Julia, we’ve barely started!”

“But how am I supposed to find anything in here? They should have thrift shops online, I just want to grab what I need and get on with my life.”

Samara shakes her head. “You’re thinking about it all wrong, this is not shopping. Thrifting is more like a treasure hunt, you never know what you’re going to find.”

She moves between the chaotic piles with the practiced air of someone who’s done this a thousand times before. Her hands are constantly busy, picking up items, examining them, and occasionally letting out a small laugh or shaking her head as she puts them back.

I trail behind her, aimlessly running my hands over stacks of old sweaters and linens, feeling out of place. The whole rebrand is starting to stress me out. My money is dwindling faster than I expected, and I only have so long to get the channel up and running again before I’ll be forced to make that dreaded phone call and ask my parents for help. It would feel like admitting defeat.

My spare room looks empty and forlorn without my sewing machine and fabrics, and I was hoping to find something that would help me get the new aesthetic right without breaking the bank, even if I don’t know exactly what I’m looking for.

Instead, I feel like I’m drowning in a sea of other people’s memories, and none of them fit the person I’m trying to become.

I’m about to give up when Samara calls out, a triumphant grin spreading across her face.

“Julia, come check this out.”

She waves me over to a large, white mirror, tucked away in a corner by some broken chairs and unused exercise equipment.

I walk over to it and run my fingers along the curved frame. It’s smooth, no dents or scratches. There’s even a useful shelf on the bottom, and I can already picture it in my new recording setup, framing the scene just right.

“This is perfect, Samara! There’s no price tag on it, do you think they’ll sell it?” I gesture at the girl at the register. She hasn’t looked up from her phone since we got here.

“They’d sell the roof if it didn’t keep the rain out, let’s go make a deal.”

The Rooftop

The music pulses through my body, a steady beat that seems to resonate in my bones and push away any lingering traces of worry. The Rooftop is packed tonight, but I don’t mind the crowd. The energy is electric, the kind that makes you feel alive, feel like anything is possible.

I’m tipsy – more than tipsy, actually – and it feels good. Samara and I managed to get my new mirror home safely, and for the rest of tonight, all thoughts about the rebrand and the money situation are far away, drowned out by the bass and the chemical smell from the smoke machines.

I throw my hands up, twirling in place as the DJ transitions into a song with a heavier beat. The floor beneath my feet feels like it’s vibrating, and I can’t stop smiling, can’t stop moving. I’m probably grinning like an idiot but I don’t even care. For the first time in weeks, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be, who I’m supposed to be.

Samara and Miranda are dancing next to me, and I close my eyes, letting the rhythm take over. All the tension I’ve carried melts away. I know I’ll have to face reality again tomorrow, finish setting up my recording equipment and sort out a new posting schedule, but tomorrow is a million miles away.

Miranda leans in close, trying to get my attention. “Let’s grab a table,” she says, and I feel like I can see the vibration of her words through the air more than I hear them. “I need a break.”

“Yeah, good idea, my feet are killing me.”

I slide onto the seat, relieved to get off the unforgiving steel floor, as Miranda puts a drink in front of me. The glass is cool in my hand, condensation dripping down my fingers as I take a sip. The strong taste of alcohol is barely masked by the fruits and sugar. Miranda always gets the good stuff, all the bartenders know she tips well.

I gently peel off my shoes and rest my bare feet on the cold, smooth metal bars of the stool.

“Miranda, seriously, how do you handle wearing heels every single day? I’m so sore.”

Miranda grins.

“You get used to it after a while, really. It’s all about practice and a little bit of masochism,” she says with a laugh. “And then there’s the stubbornness, I didn’t spend all that money on shoes just to keep them on a shelf – speaking of, since when can you afford Diego Lobos?”

I glance down at my shoes. “They were a gift from Paul, for New Year’s Eve. I just haven’t worn them since we broke up. He joked that they were mostly a gift for himself, actually. So he wouldn’t have to bend down as far to kiss me.”

And because he liked it when I wore them to bed. The memory stings a little, but it’s not as bad as it used to be, the wound of the heartbreak has finally scabbed over and the pain is less raw each time I think of him.

Samara giggles tipsily. “I mean, they look nicer than using a stepladder, that’s for sure.”

“Maybe that’s why he dumped me, I was bad for his back. I should find a shorter boyfriend next time.”

“Yeah? How tall is Marten?”

“That’s not – we’re not dating, Miranda!”

Miranda clicks her tongue. “Girl, I hate to break it to you, but he did take you on a date.”

“It wasn’t a date, we just hung out! We got home, played games, ordered takeout. He slept on the couch, and then he took the train back to campus. He didn’t try to flirt or hit on me in any way.”

“Sounds fake,” Samara says. “I still think he’s up to something.”

“Or maybe he’s just not into me, it’s not a crime. He can have friends and not want to date them, you know.”

Thankfully, they drop the subject and move on to something else. I don’t like admitting it, but Marten’s lack of interest bothers me. It’s not even that I want him, but I’m used to most guys wanting me, and my ego is frankly a little bruised. Marten is always so sweet and attentive, but that’s it.

I can’t help but find it strange that he spends so much time with me if he doesn’t like me like that. Am I really just so arrogant that I can’t imagine a guy who doesn’t want me? Or maybe I’m just obsessing over it because Paul didn’t want me either. At least not enough to give me more time. I push away the thought violently.

As I take another sip of my drink, my eyes wander towards the bar. The Rooftop’s head bartender, Shane, is quite pretty, all perfect hair and strong jawline – and not that tall. I catch myself staring a little too long, and then I remember that he asked Miranda about me. A flutter stirs in my stomach.

The truth is that I miss being wanted, being touched. I miss kissing and cuddling and holding hands, but most of all I miss sex, the sweaty, dirty, crazy kind that leaves you breathless on crumpled sheets at sunrise.

“Julia, are you even listening?”

“I think we lost her, Mir, she’s busy eye-fucking the bartender.”

“Good to know she’s healed enough to look at other men at last.”

I feel my cheeks get hot. “Sorry, I was just thinking, uh, isn’t that the bartender who asked about me?” I try to sound casual but Miranda isn’t fooled for a second.

She chuckles knowingly. “Oh, yeah, that’s him. Just a heads up, though, Shane is a total fuckboy, he doesn’t do relationships.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Who said anything about relationships?”

Miranda shrugs, her eyes still sparkling with amusement. “As long as you know what you’re getting into, babe. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you, you don’t need more heartbreak.”

“Come on, Julia, you can do so much better. Just wait, before you know it, some prince is going to come riding in on a white horse and sweep you away.”

“Samara, I’d be happy with a duke on a rusty bike at this point. A girl has needs, you know – and my vibrator doesn’t cuddle.”

We laugh it off, but I have to admit that I feel extremely tempted by the thought of seeing where this might go.

Images flash through my mind of maybe, possibly, staying a little after closing time and getting to know Shane the bartender better. Maybe he could help me remember that Paul isn’t the last man on earth, and that even if Marten doesn’t want me either, someone else will.

My pocket vibrates, tearing me away from my fantasy. I look at my phone, slightly flustered. As if summoned by my thoughts, it’s Marten, asking if we’re going to play tonight. I fire back a quick text about being out with the girls and he answers immediately.

“No worries! Have fun and make good choices, okay?”

Good choices? What is he, my dad?

Still, his words stick with me, making me feel a little guilty for some reason.

I glance back at Shane, who’s now mixing a drink with the kind of smooth confidence that makes it clear that he knows exactly how hot he is. If he’s as bad as his reputation, he probably wouldn’t mind being someone’s rebound, but would I regret it?

I followed Paul back to his hotel even though I barely knew him. Am I just the kind of girl who hooks up with any hot guy on a whim? Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but Marten has a talent for making me second-guess myself.

If I’m being brutally honest, as hot as it sounds, getting railed on a bar after closing would probably not count as a good choice in anyone’s book.

But still…

A girl can dream.

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[cas-backwards-tie]

Chapter Six: The Summer of a Lifetime

Heiress of Gotham

Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: With things out of the way and perhaps a little more trust, maybe the reader will finally start to make some progress, and a few friends along the way.

Warnings: Spying, Being Spied On, Insects, Wet T-Shirts, Flirting,

Words: 3.6k

A/N: While this chapter may seem like it takes a lot of twists in turns in the vignettes, it's sort of meant to reflect the ups and downs and small moments we have during summer. Honestly, though, this is perfect for the introduction of certain characters and plotlines I wanted!

It'd been an interesting end to the school year, really, and that's aside from the fact that you'd had to deal with and go through the grief of your Mother passing. Within the few months you'd been at Wayne Manor, the family had quickly learned many things about you. Bruce had found out how frugal and tenacious you are, insistent on selling some of your old articles of clothing for money on some app he could never remember the name of, meanwhile refuting the many attempts he'd offered to take you out shopping. Who wants to go shopping with their Dad anyway? He'd been consumed with work, and therefore more time had been turned over to your brothers.

While school was out for both you and Damian, Tim had decided to take summer classes at the nearby community college since it'd make his college applications only look better. Dick, of course, was still working, and Jason, really, you had no idea what was going on with him since it seemed he had most days free and nights taken. While you'd considered the possibility that someone associated with the Wayne family had a night-time job, you also didn't want to think of someone who very quickly became a big brother to you in that manner. That was just... ew. With the three eldest gone or rarely home, you'd been left with Damian and Alfred mostly.

--------

“So… you’re spying on your own child because…?” Tim draws out, leaning against the motherboard as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Because it’s Bruce? You’re not the first. Thought you would’ve been the wiser, Green Bean,” Dick chides as he manually stitches another loop into his uniform. Seated on the edge of the metal table propped against the railing on the opposite side of the platform.

“She’s been watching television for over two hours straight. Is this unhealthy?” The man of the hour speaks, eyes unmoving from the image of you through the lens of one of his pesky drones.

“Hey, you’re the one who’s supposed to be parenting, yeah? You chose to bring her in, you choose what’s healthy and unhealthy,” the elder boy retorts, a clear sass in his tone that reminds Bruce where Damian’s gotten it from.

“Hn,” the old man groans, “That doesn’t mean I know what’s currently the standard in teenagedom,” he grumbles more to himself than anyone.

“Have you tried, I don’t know, just talking to her?” Tim asks, an eyebrow quirking as he doesn’t try and hide the amused smile breaking across his lips.

“You’re one to talk,” Bruce teases the boy. He’s still somewhat resentful of the way he’d handled things with Stephanie a few years ago now. Leaving her in the lurch only for her to seek answers by prying into their life.

A huff of annoyance leaves Tim and he rolls his eyes. Pushing off the computer, he turns to head for the stairs when he spots movement on the monitor. Dick doesn’t seem to care, rather, he’s focused on fixing and upgrading his equipment. However, Tim had come to a halt, now watching from just a few feet behind the old man’s chair. His drone follows you as you get up, bringing an empty dish and glass to the kitchen. You don’t notice, of course, as Tim knows this has to be one of the nano drones, most likely disguised as a fly following your movements through the Manor just a few hundred feet above them.

It’s uninteresting, really, the way he watches you put your empty dish in the sink along with your glass. Your visage shifts, heading back to the living room, but doesn’t fail to notice the nano drone. “Spotted,” Tim announces, curious to see where this goes.

“That doesn’t mean anything. Most people aren’t fazed by an insect,” Bruce defends, finally taking his gaze off the screen for a mere moment as he turns to Tim. The boy watches as you step closer to the drone; the still fly on the fridge’s handle was easy to spot, and while your eyes quickly move on in an attempt to seem as if you hadn’t noticed the bug, not wanting to disrupt it or scare it away, you step closer to the fridge.

On top of the box lies an item you’ve been grateful for ever since you’d gotten your Mom to buy it for you offline. Easily stepping on your tiptoes you grab the object’s handle and have your finger ready atop the trigger. Now all that’s left is to catch it off-guard.

The amused look on Tim’s face makes Bruce paranoid; blue eyes racing back to the monitor, he watches as a tennis-racket swatter comes his way. Lifting the nanodrone up and off the surface he barely escapes the touch of the electric swatter. Bzzt! He’s hit. Flying across the kitchen and landing on the counter, he turns the drone around to get you in frame again. “And you thought she wouldn’t do anything,” Tim laughs. An error message pops up, screen turning red along with the artificial voice alert. Clearly you’ve damaged the drone.

“It only took twenty-five percent capacity,” Bruce announces, clicking different keys to get everything back to neutral.

This elicits Dick’s eyes as his focus shifts up to the situation before him. An amused smile graces his lips and he can’t help but sometimes pity the man. Bruce… tries. He means well, but he doesn’t always have the best approach. “Gotta say, this is better than reality tv.” His Father shakes his head and, attention finally returning to the monitor once again after being distracted by Tim.

“You risked a drone for this? Come on, man. This is your own daughter we’re talking about,” Tim chastises. Even if he’s still laughing and more than amused by this. If he wants to waste his tech, by all means, let them watch. It’s not like he can’t get more.

The men watch as you look around the kitchen, eyes taking everything in. With an occasional turn, and a flip of your hair, he’s spotted again! This time Bruce sees you coming before he can be squashed. Out of sight, out of mind, he thinks. “Honestly, I’m just lucky she didn’t spot me earlier. Ace and Titus weren’t the most helpful considering they kept tracking my movements, clueing her in. But she didn’t get me until now.”

“I’m impressed she even got you at all, honestly,” Dick comments, drawing their attention again.

“Not a fan?” Tim asks, curious to hear his thoughts. After all, he hasn’t been around as much considering things have been busy with school, and hectic with Stephanie. Therefore, he doesn’t know as much about you. He hasn’t spent as much time around you as the others.

Met with a noncommittal noise, Tim watches Dick shrug. “I’ve got nothing against her aside from what she said at dinner and obviously her hate for the BPD,” he trails off, a shudder running through him, “then again, she was kind of insane when we were moving her stuff. Threatened to kill us and all. Not really the type of vibe you wanna have running around the house, you know? At least, not mine, I’ll tell you that.” With a chuckle, Dick lifts the needle to his mouth, teeth going for the fabric since he hadn’t bothered to grab scissors.

Tim almost laughs along with his brother, that is until he processes what he’d said. “Wait, what-?!” Eyes quickly darting between him and Bruce, he’s suddenly alert. “What do you mean she tried to kill you?! What’re you talking about? Hey- why didn’t you tell me this?” He zeroes in on Bruce, determined to get an answer. “Does Damian know? Why am I the last one to find out about anything around here?” He complains.

“I mean she tried to-” Dick begins.

“She did not! Dick, stop exag-”Bruce interrupts, turning to face them and argrue.

“Bruce-” Tim interjects, eyes suddenly on your approaching visage in the drone’s visual. “Bruce!” You’ve got the fly cornered. With one swift sweeping wack, and a press of the button, it’ll die.

“What?!” He yells. As soon as he turns back from Tim to the monitor he’s too late. Zzztt!!! They all grimace and wince. An alert pops up on screen:

‘V I S U A L L O S T’

The options to ‘connect to different device’ or ‘relay input’ lie underneath the big text, but ultimately you’d destroyed the thing. With the click of a button Bruce closes the tab and the background feed of the Manor’s security cameras linger. Alfred dances in the office as he dusts along, presumably, to music—Bruce knows his routine. On another, you’re carrying the nanodrone on the electric swatter to the trash, disposing of the ‘fly’ you’d killed. Lastly, Damian is reading, doing his homework as he sits in an armchair by the fireplace in the Library, Titus curled up by his feet.

“Dammit! This is why you can’t just be in here. You’re either here for a purpose or you’re out,” Bruce dictates. “Dick is actually doing something, Tim. You’re just gossiping.” With a defeated drop of his hands to the desk, he raises himself from his computer chair and rounds Tim.

“You still didn’t tell me what happened,” Tim argues, the anger in his voice no longer hiding. “I’m tired of being out of the loop! What happened?” He demands. A sigh weighs Bruce’s shoulders down, and as Dick finally lifts his gaze to take in the men before him, he doesn’t dare to add any more fuel to the already burning fire.

“She was involved with Marin. Alright? She thought he was coming for her, momentarily figured we were in on it. Satisfied?” Bruce responds, turning to face the boy.

They all know he’s been hurt. That he has trauma… it’s no secret. Yet, it’s only in few and far between moments that the boys are able to see things for what they are in a crystal-clear view. This is one of those times. Their warped views on good and evil, right and wrong, revenge and punishment… they blur the lines of reality in ways he’s sure that you, a civilian, would never understand, and yet… Tim realizes the weight of this.

“Who-?”

“Angel Marin. Bludhaven’s biggest mob boss,” Dick informs. A ‘Hn’ leaves Bruce’s lips as he makes his way toward the stairs, and a sigh leaves Tim. With a grateful nod in Grayson’s direction, Tim follows after Bruce.

------

“You know, someone mentioned your birthday is coming up,” Bruce teases, a hint of a smile hiding behind his wine glass.

The quick flash of a smile overtakes your face before you try to hide it. None of them miss it. “Um… yeah. W-who said?”

It’s invisible, perhaps, to all besides those who know him best, however, Bruce pales at the question, faltering. While you’re good at reading people, you don’t notice. Whether it’s the subject matter or the way everyone’s staring, you simply wait for a response.

“Uh, the-” he clears his throat, eyes suddenly downcast as he reaches for his knife and fork to cut his steak, “the social worker! Yes, she mentioned it while you were in your meeting.” Obviously a lie. If anyone truly knows Bruce the way most at the table do, they'd know he found it in your public files and digital footprint.

“Oh,” you respond, putting on a fake smile as you too attempt to hide behind the meal. Birthdays can be a big deal for some, and others, not. It all depends, and you aren't sure where things lie in this family. You still feel like an outsider, despite their attempts, and you don't want to burden them further.

“We could have a party!” Damian suggests, to everyone’s surprise.

“You just want a party,” Jason comments with a chortle.

“Is there anything you want?” Dick asks thoughtfully, looking down at you from your side, putting you on the spot. His kind blue eyes stir something within you, and you turn your gaze back to your plate. Busying yourself by cracking your knuckles, your lips purse into a line. With a shake of your head, it’s clear no one is sated.

“There’s nothing you want? At all?” Bruce prods, eliciting your eye contact again. Lips pursing even more you shake your head again.

“Um,” eyes falling to your lap you collect yourself, not allowing your imagination to run wild. “You taking me in was enough. Thank you.” Voice quiet, everyone has their own reaction to your words, albeit unbeknownst to you.

“Oh, shut up! You know there’s at least one thing you want,” Jason teases from across the table.

“Oh? And what’s that since you know her so well?” Tim pries, knowing he’s setting his brother up. Jason hesitates, almost choking on his drink which elicits laughs from the boys, and an amused smile from Bruce. As bickering starts to ensue, you decide.

“I-” all eyes turn to you, “I want a party!” You announce. With a confident smile, you figure, how bad could it be? After all, parties don't need to be big! Something sweet, the family there, and a boardgame is all you'd need for it to be considered a party to you.

“See? At least I know what she wants,” Damian chides proudly.

“Oh? Well what kind of party would you like?” Bruce asks.

“Who do you want to invite?” Dick inquires.

“What’s the theme?” Jason adds.

“Actually, isn’t your birthday coming up now that I think of it?” Tim voices his concern over to Jason.

“Uh…” Jason shakes his head a little, taken aback, “I mean, I don’t really celebrate anymore since-”

“-the same day as Alfred’s, that’s right,” Bruce saves them, an unfazed smile on his lips, “though I believe we can celebrate both, can’t we?” While you’re not exactly paying attention, to the rest of them there’s a silent, yet menacing request behind his eyes. It’s clear they’re not allowed to speak freely anymore, no matter your new seat at the table of their family.

“Okay, but mine comes first- or did you forget again?” Damian asks with a bite. Upon the silence, he rolls his eyes and goes back to his meal with the exasperated sound of his breath hitting his tongue against his teeth. An audible ‘Tt’ sound.

“I didn’t forget, Damian,” Bruce clenches his jaw and grips his glass a little tighter. Does every family dinner have to turn into a fight? “You know I was with the Just-” he catches himself, “Hn- that I had to-”

“-just business calls… we’re well aware, Father. Perhaps you’ll do yourself a favor and won’t miss your other child’s birthday,” Damian finishes the conversation. “Not that I count on it.”

--------

Walking through the pool room, you’re focused on texting Daisha, intent on telling her the good news!

‘Omg you’ll never guess what just happened! I’ll hav-’

Splash!

A dissatisfied shriek escapes your lips as you stare at the wet stain on your shirt. “Really?! Dami-" looking up from your drenched navy tank top, your eyes widen and lips part.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I thought you were Damian.”

You quickly take in the super-soaker and the boy’s apologetic expression, and it’s easy enough to put two and two together. As footsteps quietly click against the tiled floors of the locker rooms leading toward the pool deck, you grab the boy’s hand and drag him back the way he’d come around the corner. There lies a linen closet between the pool, laundry room, and stairwell. With a swift hand, you open the door and shove him in, following after as you quietly shut the door.

A bemused smile appears on his lips as his eyebrows furrow. “You’re his sister,” he whispers with certainty, “I’m Billy.”

Whispering back your name, he repeats it. Visibly eager on saying something else, you place your fingers on his lips to shut him up. He follows your eyesight, both of you staring through the slats in the closet door. With a keen ear, he gets the gist and remains quiet. As moments pass, you can feel the boy, Billy, staring; curious, you meet his gaze only to find him searching your eyes. You can’t help but notice how pretty his are. Though you almost get swept up in admiring his features, you hear a faint creak only meters away outside the door; with a motion of your other hand, you beckon him to hand you the gun.

Transferred into your open hand, you slowly remove your fingers from his lips, cupping the barrel of the super-soaker while the other wraps around the handle, fingers ready at the trigger. With a head nod toward the door, you mouth the words: ‘On three! Ready?’

Billy seems to understand, as he holds his hands up in a ready stance to push open the doors. Together, you both mouth the countdown (which is really a count up, but anyway): ‘One… Two…’

“THREE!” Busting out of the closet, Damian is just a few feet from your right. It’s easy to spin and shoot as you’d been prepared, having watched him walk past the door together. Your brother had jumped, yet shot a few instinctive rounds of water, splashing both you, Billy, and the wall.

“Shit! What the hell! What are you doing here? Who let you play?” Damian curses, saying something in a language you don’t recognize, holding his gun in a stationary position once you’ve all recovered from the attack. His suspicious green eyes narrow as they dart between the two of you.

“I figured it was only fair since you didn’t let me know about your little game and I got caught in the crossfire,” you reason, pointing to your shirt with the gun.

“I accidentally shot her thinking I had you cornered, so…” Billy’s words die on his tongue. Without sparing the kid a glance, you shove the super-soaker back in his hands before offering him a grateful smile. At least you’d hit Damian once, you figure. With that, you’re more than happy to abandon the boys to their games as you walk toward the laundry room to see if your clothes are finished drying. That was the whole reason you were down here in the first place, after all.

“You didn’t tell me she was my age!” You hear Billy yell before a series of exclamations and curses follow with the sound of splashing water and rapidly receding footsteps.

--------

As stupid as it was to find your thoughts continuing to drift back toward a certain brown hair, green-eyed boy, you couldn’t help it. Though you’ve grown more tolerable of one another over the past few months, you still can’t believe that one of Damian’s friends is who’s on your mind. Nevertheless, fate would seem to have an amusing time linking the two of you together, constantly running into the other.

You suppose it isn’t strange after all, especially when considering he is one of Damian’s friends… however, you find him over the at Manor more and more often after the initial time he’d quite literally bumped into you.

--------

“Grab me a juice box? I forgot one too-”Damian’s voice echoes throughout the theatre as Billy yells back an affirmative answer and heads back toward the kitchen.

“Oh, hey-" You greet, backing up as a familiar figure exits the home theatre.

“Hey- what’s up?” Billy asks, a friendly smile gracing his lips.

"Was just gonna get a snack before we start," you tell him, "Guess we're headed the same way then," you tease. Walking down the hallway and up the stairs to the kitchen, you're aware of your brother's friend just a few steps behind.

“Are you gonna watch with us?” Billy asks hopefully.

“I mean, if that’s okay, yeah, I was planning on it." You respond jokingly, not thinking about it too much. It is family movie night. After all, you’re focused, wanting this popcorn to be good, not a burnt pile of charcoal.

“Oh, I didn’t mea-”Billy goes to correct himself.

“It’s fine. I’ll be down in a minute, I’m just making my own popcorn because the boys would eat it all otherwise,” you joke. Surely since he's friends with Damian he knows what the guys are like.

“That’s smart- that way you don’t have to share and keep passing it back and forth the whole time.” Billy adds on.

“Yeah. Do you want some? I can make another little packet,” You offer.

“Sure! I can do it though, you don’t have t-” He argues.

“-I don’t mind! I've gotta wait for it anyway and grab some bowls. So I'll see you down there!" With that reassurance, Billy offers you one last smile before taking the juice boxes downstairs.

The older boys and your Father had insisted you pick the movie considering it's your first movie night with the family, and while most of them had been dreading what genre you'd pick, everyone ended up excited to watch a classic comedy most of them hadn't seen in years. Snuggled up under the fluffy blankets with your popcorn and the laughs of your brothers all around, you couldn't help but enjoy the fun.

--------

Most of the summer felt like it was spent in your room. Whether it was trying to explore the things that truly make you happy, or being lonely in a place that still feels entirely all too unfamiliar despite the fact that it's been a couple months.

The material things did help at first, the new environment, the little gifts your Father and brothers would treat you to, like those little Squishmallows you'd always seen and wanted at the store, but never bought yourself. They were more expensive than you'd ever thought to casually pay. Nevertheless, you've started to make your room truly your own. With decorating, personalizing, and getting into your own sort of routine, it seems that everyone has been slowly becoming used to this new lifestyle.

Alfred insisted that as summer begins to come to a close, you all decide on either making time for a vacation, or perhaps you and Damian get involved in extra curriculars. In the sake of preparation for school, you'd taken up driving lessons as you'll soon be old enough to begin the process of obtaining your permit. Then there was also the announcements from the school you'll be attending in the fall; with sports and clubs gearing up for homecoming, tryouts were coming up. Your Father had insisted that Damian consider a sport this year, and Alfred equally has been trying to push you in any sort of direction that'll lead to getting you out of the house and your room.

Needless to say, he wouldn't let go of the idea that your mental health could use less isolation and more friends, hobbies, and pursuance of your 'passions' even if you're not entirely sure what those are yet. It didn't take long for you to succumb to your butler (essentially) grandpa's badgering. Though you have a plan in mind for what sport you'll be trying out for, you haven't revealed them to the family. The way they seem to share everything is... still new, and somewhat unsettling to you.

~~~~~~~~

forever taglist: @ohdamnadam , @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic ,@moonlightsolo

hog taglist: @luvly-writer , @clairese1980 , @theroyalmanatee ,@azazel-nyx , @nightrose-18 , @vanessa-boo , @ih4temy5elfs0b4d , @agent-nobody-knows , @scarlett13 , @hoeinthehouse , @huhhuhh , @maxinehufflepuffprincess

[blaxcunicorn]

One-shot

Heeey! I just wrote something random as I felt a bit inspired after reading Just kids by Patti Smith. I have been busy with my exams which is why I've been gone for so long but we back!

Content: fem!reader, NSFW warning, Rockstar Eren before fame, friends to lovers, poverty

You hissed as you cut your pinky finger on a thorn while making a flower bouquet for a customer. You sucked it up and gave the sweet lady her bouquet with a smile. “It’s perfect, thank you. My daughter is going to love it.” She smiled. Her smile warmed your heart. Being a florist wasn’t the most fulfilling job, but making people like her smile motivates you. Well, that and putting food on the table. You grew up in the city's poorer side, so there weren’t many opportunities for you after high school. The florist job was the best thing you could find, it isn’t all bad, the owner has been nothing but kind to you. You heard the doorbell ring as Mrs Johnson came walking into the shop with bags that smelled like heaven. She and her husband owned the bakery next to the shop, and they would always bring you the leftovers of the day. “Here, my love, it’s not that much, but hopefully, it is enough for a day.” She smiled gently. You opened the bag; it was a sandwich, a croissant, and a whole loaf of bread. “This is more than enough, thank you.” You said gratefully, setting the store ready for closure. 

You walked into your tired apartment building, greeting the tired landlord who was seated at his usual desk spot. He gave you a sad smile as you stood outside your brown door with an eviction note taped on it. They were increasing the rent, and you were already struggling to meet the current increase of the last one. You had to sell your bed in order to afford last month’s payment. You opened the door to your small yellow-walled studio. You put the bakery bag on the counter, grab the sandwich, and cut it in half, leaving the other piece on the plate. As you sat down with your sandwich, you noticed a pair of pants with holes on the left knee on the table. You shook your head and pulled out your sewing equipment. As you almost finished stitching the pants, you heard the familiar sound of the heavy steps of construction boots.

Eren entered the room, greeting you with a warm grin. “Man, I’m exhausted, Gold, but how was your day?” He asked, putting his yellow helmet on the counter. He has called you Gold since childhood, which you never entirely understood. You and Eren grew up as neighbours in the very same building. You lived in another apartment with your grandmother, and Eren lived with his parents. Life dealt the two of you shitty cards, and Eren’s mother was killed in a robbery gone wrong when you were only five years old. His father passed away from a heart attack when he was fifteen, and he had to drop out of school to find a job. Your grandmother didn’t have the financial means to help him, but she would cook him meals as often as possible. Unfortunately, that didn’t last long, as she passed away when you were sixteen. Eren offered you to move in with him so that you didn’t have to drop out like him. Mrs Johnson, who was your grandmother’s friend, helped you get a part-time job as a florist. You managed to finish high school, and well here you are. 

“Hello, Gold. Are you okay?” He asked, looking concerned. You jump a little as you had zoned out, I mean, how could you not? The construction job had made Eren quite built, he literally looked like a Greek God. “I’m fine, sorry. Just a little tired, that’s all.” You smiled while finishing the pants throwing it at Eren. “Thanks, you’re the best!” He grinned, caught it, and grabbed the other half of the sandwich. His smile disappeared the moment he came closer. He held your hand and stroked your finger with his thumb. “Don’t worry, I just cut myself a bit at work”, you smile, trying to ease the tension. Eren doesn't respond, his eyes are focused on the scar. “I will provide you a life where you don't have to take jobs that will leave you scars” he muttered. “Huh?” You said, looking confused. “Nothing..Hey, I brought a surprise!” He grinned, pulling out two bottles of cheap white wine. “What are we celebrating?” You smile, folding his pants. “The guys and I finished fixing the van! We are leaving for LA  by the end of next week!” He said excitedly, pulling out two plastic cups. You swallowed hard but tried to put on a smile for him, although your eyes were stinging. 

Eren learned how to play guitar from Armin’s grandfather at the age of fifteen. He owned an instrument shop and noticed that a couple of kids were interested in the instruments. It was first Connie who came in looking at the drums. Armin’s grandfather sat the bold boy down and taught him how to play the instrument. The second time Connie came, he brought his friend Jean. Jean was mesmerised by the beautiful black and white bass. Which after a few weeks, it became his best friend (after Connie, ofc!).

 Lastly, we have Eren, he was on his way home from work when he saw Armin’s grandfather struggle with some boxes. He offered to help, which the elderly man accepted. One of the boxes contained a black electric guitar. Armin’s grandfather offered Eren to try it out as he saw his green eyes glow at the sight of it. Weeks later, he introduced the three boys to his grandson Armin who could play both keyboard and guitar. The boys quickly became friends and started playing together in the evenings. Armin’s grandfather believed that it was better for the boys to be distracted from the crimes in the city, and what better distraction than music? The elderly man passed away four years later. From there on, the boys knew that they wanted to start a band and make it out of the city. They found an abandoned van that they spent a year fixing with the help of Jean’s mechanic background. The plan was to use the van to drive to LA and sleep in it if they couldn't afford a Motel. Now it being done meant that Eren would soon leave to follow his dreams. 

You took the cup, he offered you, “Cheers to you for making it in LA!” You said, smiling. “Cheers for the two of us making it in LA!” The Chestnut-haired man said, correcting you. “Us? As in..” 

“Would you think that I would leave you behind in this shitty city?” Eren asked, looking at you like you had stated something silly like the moon was made out of cheese. “Yeah, I mean…ehm”, you played with your fingers. The guys always referred to you as their fifth member. You weren't a direct member of the band, but you had sewed them a few pieces to wear when they’d do free bar performances. “I could never leave you behind, it’s you and me against the world. Like it always has been.” He grins, toasting his wine before downing it in one go. It warmed your heart to know that Eren would never forget about you. After finishing the bottles, the two of you are pretty drunk. “Eren, could you please play something for me?” You ask, batting your eyelashes.

You look so damn cute drunk. How could he say no? “Sure, what song?.” He says, picking up his guitar. “This Charming Man!” You say excitedly. You danced to Eren’s angelic voice, “Ah, a jumped-up pantry boy who never knew his place!” You shout, and Eren gets up and dances with you. One day, I will write you a song that will make you dance like that, he thought to himself.  The two of you danced like you had no care in the world, as putting food on the table was not an issue, as you weren’t surrounded by crime and death. 

The two of you lie in bed, dizzy and out of breath but happy. You turn your bodies to face each other. “Eren, did you mean it when you said that it was the two of us against the world?” You ask for reinsurance. “Of course I did, I can’t imagine any other woman by my side but you.” The alcohol in his system was exposing him. You smiled while massage his ear lobe. “Is that so?” You whispered, dying of happiness on the inside. He doesn’t respond but looks at you like a lovesick crackhead. Your cheek burned, and you turned your head to face the cracking roof in embarrassment. 

Eren cupped your cheeks, forcing you to face him again. You leaned into the warmth of his rough hands. “What am I to you, Eren?” Your lips were almost touching, and the smell of wine filled your nose. He leans in and kisses you passionately. His lips were a big contrast to his hands. You felt a needy heat growing between your legs, it seemed like Eren was reading your mind as he slid his two fingers under your dress. “Already wet for me?” He whispered. “Yes,” you whined.

 Eren removed your dress and underwear, and you hissed in the chilly air. Eren doesn’t break eye contact with your as he spreads your legs and gives your cunt a long lick from the bottom of your vulgar, covering his tongue with your sweet juices. “God, Gold…you…taste…so…good”, he whispered, diving into your cunt. “Ah, Eren” you moan. You were confident that your neighbour Eric on the other side of the wall heard you.

 All Eren cared about right now was to make you cum, to release you from all the stress from your everyday life. "'I’m gonna cum," you whimpered, realising all over his mouth. “Good girl”, he whispered, kissing you, letting you taste yourself. “Eren, can you please fuck me?” you asked pathetically. He flipped you on your stomach. He leaned over and growled in your ear, “You don’t have to ask me twice. Get on all fours,” and kissed your back. You did what he demanded, feeling shivers all over your body.

 Eren collected cum from your vagina and smeared it all over his veiny cock. He gripped tight around your hips and hissed as he was entering you. Eren pumped slowly back and forth, the air was filled with your moans as your pussy was getting used to Eren’s colossal size. “Fuck”, he moaned as he started speeding up, digging his finger further into your flesh. “Gold, fuck me back. Fuck your cock back, it’s all yours”, he growled. Being the obedient woman you were, you threw your ass back. “Harder” he demanded, spanking you. “Ah, fuck Eren”, you moaned as your arms gave up on you and collapsed on the bed. That didn’t stop Eren as he lifted your hips and placed his cock inside of you. “Fuck, your pussy feels good. Keeping this from me for six years,” he groaned, continuing fucking you. Your face was on the pillow, which was a good thing as you were a moaning mess. 

Your eyes teared up as you felt your second climax blossoming. Eren could tell as you clenched around him, “Give it to me, give it to me.” He growled, feeling you squirt all over him. “Gold, I’m not finished. Take this cock.” He demanded, filling the air with your whimpers and the sound of your skin slapping. You used the last energy to get on all fours again, fucking him back “Ah, fuck! You want me to get all out, too, all this fucking frustration. Fuck it all into you.” He groaned. “Yes”, you moaned, throwing your ass back. His thrusts became rigid and slow as he was filling you up. 

Eren collapsed on the bed next to you while catching his breath. He kissed your forehead before you went to the toilet to pee. You walked out to see Eren comfy in bed. You lay down beside him, and he wrapped his arms around you. “Eren, you never answered my question, " you said, turning to face him. I’m in love with you, silly. Always has been, and always will be.” He said, yawing.

[heavyequipmentforsale1]

Picking the right wheel loader buckets connection boosts proficiency and efficiency while limiting wear on the actual machine. Unfortunately, the determination isn’t self-evident since wheel loaders have various container connections.

[blankwashed]

18+ ADULT CONTENT AHEAD YOU ARE WARNED

Toji and you went out shopping, not for something extraordinary but something basic. Toji, unfortunately, was the reason why the family is broke again. He had squandered all his money on the recent horse race, despite your warnings about his gambling addiction.

Even though you were working, your monthly salary was barely enough to sustain both of you and his son, Megumi, from his previous marriage.

"Daddy! I-I want this! Please buy it for me, pleaaase!" Megumi pleaded, envious of his friends who were getting the newest and latest gadgets. "I get laughed at whenever I take out my Samsung Galaxy S4..." he confessed, tears welling up in his eyes. You hated to see your stepson ridiculed by his friends, but with Toji's reckless gambling habits, you often found yourself in a tough spot.

"BABY! We hit the jackpot today! I won 320,000 yen! I'm aiming to get 500,000 yen on the next race, trust me!" Toji exclaimed excitedly, only to waste all the money on another failed bet.

"Are you sure this will work?" you raised an eyebrow at Toji. He claimed that OnlyFans or selling videos of the both of you having sex would make you guys rich in an instant.

Toji just finished setting up the webcam on the laptop that both of you have bought with the money you were saving for rainy days.

"I'm hot, you're hot. Why wouldn't it work?" he has no other options other than to sell his body online- and yours as well. You bit your lip, regretting about agreeing with his idea. It all sounded easy to you at first, just have sex with a camera pointed at the both of you but now that you think about it. What if Megumi or any of his friends find it? Wouldn't that ruin his life? Who would take the both of you guys seriously anymore?

Toji said that you guys would not need to pay for certain things as well, saying that brands would be willing to sponsor the both of you for wearing or using their clothing or equipment in the videos. At that time, Megumi was on a school trip which leaves the both of you alone at home.

You were awkward, of course and Toji knew that. He snaked his muscular arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him. It’s been a long time since the both of you had time for yourselves, dealing with Megumi and well, money problems.

As you were unaware, Toji already was recording on the camera but he still acted as if he wasn’t. Without your knowledge, he’s getting your raw reactions to his touches.

“Hmm, mama…” he murmured into your ear sensually with his hand slithering through your shirt’s buttons, plucking each of them off. If you weren’t wet before, you were wet in an instant then. He’s your weakness and knows how to get you crawling onto him.

You were very verbal, moaning and sliding off your skirt and panties making things easier for Toji. His lips were already on your left nipple, sucking and lapping like an animal. The noises that he made while abusing your nipples could already bring you to an overdrive, not to mention the sounds coming out from your own throat.

“Toj-Daddy…have you pressed record yet?” you asked him breathlessly. Honestly at this point you didn’t really care because you married a sex Adonis. Toji shook his head, lying to you because he knows that you would be self-conscious if the camera was on.

“Princess, let’s just have some off-camera fun for now hmm? So that when we shoot everything will just come natural?”

He was so believable.

The way your fingers curled around his biceps, gripping them firmly as if they were the only anchor in a stormy sea. His hands explored your body freely, as if it was your honeymoon night when it was the first time you saw each other’s bodies.

Who am I kidding? Toji wouldn’t wait for marriage.

It was an intense make out session, with moans of “never gonna get bored of this” and “just fuck me already”. Toji and you were breathless with your hearts pounding with desire. Communicating with bodily actions would be ideal for someone like Toji.

His big hands groped big fleshy parts of you, moulding them in his hands making you moan in pleasure. You didn’t like it when it was soft after experiencing how pleasurable it was to be manhandled.

“Lil’ mama, take me in. Show me how much you love my cock,” he slaps his big fat cock against your cheeks, making you lose your balance despite already kneeling. You weren’t able to say anything. Opening your mouth slowly easing him in, he thought of something else he wanted to do to you.

As his hands freely roamed across your body, pinching and slapping them earning moans from you. Toji eagerly slid his fingers down your abdomen and started to trace small circles around your wet dripping hole. He searched for your sensitive weak spot. After finding it, he teased you, circling and flicking with his thick fingers. Your wetness was already making everything easier for him.

Toji was quick. Before long, you realised you were in a 69 position with him. You could feel him smirking on your pussy, teasing and licking with his fat tongue. His spare hands would trail up your leg, opening your core up for him. It wasn’t easy for you to keep quiet at this point while he was circling your bud with his skilful tongue before finally plunging it deep inside.

“AH! DADDY!” you screamed, accidentally letting his cock out of your mouth. He growled, not pleased by not being in your mouth. With a jerk his cock opened your mouth again.

“My cock will be buried here until I say I so. You want to be punished, bitch?” He grabbed a handful of hair from your head, tugging it, making you squirm.

With your tongue swirling around the head in a tantalising manner while massaging his balls Toji let out a long, deep moan.

“Slowly, bitch…that’s it baby,” he murmured hoarsely. “Don’t fuck with me, you bitch. I’ll punish you for that later,” he threatened you, grasping the back if your head tightly.

“Take all of me, you fucking slut. You like being treated like this, don’t you?” he bucked his hips more towards you, hands wrapped around your throat.

Groaning loudly, Toji pushed once again, driving himself deeper into your poor throat as he reached his climax. With each movement of your head, he lost control of himself. It was all raw and primal. His sheer strength overpowering your body into a puddle.

With his hands tied up in your hair, he releases himself. Hot white streaks of excessive cum painted your face. A glare from Toji made you lick up every excessive drop.

“Daddy…how are we going to shoot now? I think I drank up all your cum…” you innocently said while wiping your face clean, not noticing Toji smirking while checking out the footage that he recorded.

The both of you would be swimming in money soon.

[the-froschamethyst4]

The Cowboy Hat Rule

𖤐Pairing: Cowboy! Price x City girl! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: smut, cowboy hate rule, strangers to lovers, slight fingering, p in v, slight eating out, handjob, drinking, smoking, making new friends, small town love, some humiliation

𖤐Summary: Y/n came to a small town just outside the city she grew up in and found herself in a small local bar and had some fun with some strangers

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9:00AM

Y/n was packing her stuff to get ready to move out west to a small town just outside her hometown. Y/n was a city girl no doubt.

She use to get spray tans before vacations or before she goes out anywhere with her friends. Only shop at high end store like Gucci, Louis, Fendi and Prada, her groceries costed around someone’s rent, she paid so much.

She decided to move so she could have her freedom and wanted to start a small farm with Chickens to sell their eggs, cows to sell their milk and cheese, and sheep for their wool.

She found an abandoned ranch house with almost 4 arces of land, just enough for a barn and enough grass for the animals to graze and eat.

Y/n took some notes on how to take care of them and is honestly excited to have a farm. She likes a challenge and she also is ready to give up her lavage lifestyle for the barnyard.

She had looked did some digging around the small town and saw a small bar, a local grocery store, a strip mall with probably 7-8 different stores, she’s never really heard of.

A mechanic, a salon, a sandwich shop, and she also saw a couple of other farms and every Saturday there is a local Flee Market.

She can’t wait to move and live there.

——————

11:30AM

Y/n saw her new home just up ahead. The movers were confused on if this was the right house but pulled into the driveway and helped unload the truck.

One of the movers looked at Y/n trying to see if they were at the right house.

“Miss? Are we here?”

“Yes! We are here. Awww~ this place is amazing,” she said as she opened the door and took in the sight, it needs to be done up some but she can fix it or see if anyone around knows how to fix certain things.

She let the movers inside and place her couch, love seat, tables, nightstand, dresser and bed down in their certain spots.

Y/n was excited and grabbed her box’s from her car and placed her bathroom stuff in her master bathroom, bedroom stuff in her master bedroom and so on.

She paid the movers and started to set up her bed. And started to unpack the kitchen supplies and bathroom supplies. She unpacked her TV for her bedroom and started to set up her Netflix, HULU, Disney+ and YouTube and did the same with her TV in the living room.

She took in all her stuff in her own house and not in a apartment. Y/n went outside and started to take pictures on where she wanted her barn for her animals.

She didn’t know if she wanted to put it next to the large oak tree to act as shade for her animals or next to the pond to act as a natural water source for them.

She doesn’t know, but she will come up with something.

Now…small town love. She hasn’t really thought about love or finding love in a small town like this place, after her last relationship she’s kind of put off from dating for about a year.

She liked the single life even though it can be very lonely at times hints why she wanted a farm. Give her something to do so she won’t be bored out of her mind, and she can keep herself occupied.

She got in her car and drove to a local store that carried a lot of farm products from equipment, feed, even animals. She parked her car and got out, she definitely looked out of place.

A white t-shirt, black leggings, tennis shoes and a high ponytail. She looked like she just got done doing a hard workout. Everyone else looked like typical country people dressed like they’re ready for the local rodeo.

She rubbed the back of her neck before walking inside and grabbed a cart and started to look around for feed and took a look at the ducks, geese, bunnies and other birds they well selling, unfortunately not the ones she’s looking for.

She just smiled at the cute baby animals and headed to the back where there was flowers and some small sheds. She looked at one that looked like a mini version of a red barn it was cute, something she could use as a chicken coop.

“Hello, you finding everything okay?” A man walked up to her, she jumped a little bit before turning to him.

“Oh yeah…ummm~ I’m actually new to town and I bought that abandoned ranch house on the hill.”

“Oh that house, I’ve never seen anyone live there. It’s like they just made a random house for no reason.”

“Yeah that’s what my seller told me. Like they gave up half way through.”

“Well welcome to Mountain County, oh I’m Alex,” he put his hand out and Y/n shook it.

“Nice to meet you, Alex. I’m Y/n,” she said with a smile on her face.

“But anyways, what are you gonna do with the 4 acres?”

“A small farm, just a couple of animals sell their products and make money I guess,” she awkwardly laughed.

“Ahh~ I own a farm as well, I do this part time and I work on my farm full time. I sell crops at the flee market, I sell corn, potatoes, dried sunflower seeds, carrots, bell peppers, you name I probably sell it.” He laughs.

Y/n could tell he was trying to be friendly and not sound like he’s being cocky.

“Do you have animals?”

“Yeah, cows, sheep, horses, pigs, goats, llamas and chickens, I gonna get geese and ducks soon.”

“That’s cool, do you have any tips for me?”

“Yeah.”

Alex and Y/n could probably talk for hours and hours but unfortunately that’s not the case. Y/n and Alex exchanged numbers to keep in touch and so if Y/n had any questions she could text Alex and ask.

----------

1:30PM

Y/n headed home unpacked some more of her boxes and started to set everything she just bought outside her home. She will be getting a small shed she could keep the feed and whatever inside of it.

She headed back into her house. She changed out of her sweaty clothes and changed into some shorts and a tank top leaving her hair in the ponytail.

She laid on her couch grabbing her phone and looked at some picture of her 'friends' back at the city seeming to be having a blast without her. She didn't even get a 'goodbye party' from them.

She rolled her eyes and continued to scroll through the social media. Y/n saw her considered 'best friend' hanging out with her ex-boyfriend, they were all huggy on each other which made her feel gross.

The guy she told her friend about that was such a jerk to her, and she's over here hanging out with her. Thinking it's okay and that Y/n may never see it.

"So annoying," she rolled her eyes at the post and tossed her phone to the side ready to turn on the TV, but her phone pinged making her look at her phone and saw Alex's name pop up.

Alex: *Hey at The Mountain Top Bar, they're doing all you can get shots and drinks and they're doing line dancing, come join us*

Y/n: *Us? Who am I meeting, Alex?*

Alex: *Some friends of mine, come on, come join us*

Y/n: *Give me a minute*

Alex: *Yeah, take your time, sweet thing*

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2:40PM

Y/n went to her car and drove to The Mountain Top Bar, she was in a dark green, emerald dress, she looked stunning. She exited her car and opened the door to the bar.

She read a sign with pretty handwriting font saying what Alex told her.

All you can eat, free shots and drinks on the house and Line Dancing of the century

She smiled at the sign. She opened the door and saw people dancing, laughing, getting drinks at the bar and playing darts and pool. She looked around for Alex and couldn't find him till she looked at the bar seeing him look like a cowboy like every guy in this place.

She walked up to him and gently tapped his shoulder getting his attention.

"HEY! You made it," he said as he got up and hugged her waist.

"Yeah, thanks for telling me about this, I would have never guessed," she said.

"Anytime, come, meet the guys," Alex said.

They walked to the bar counter and Alex got his friends attention to look at Y/n.

"Y/n, this is. Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Alejandro, König and Price is somewhere around here..." Alex said as he looked around the bar. "Oh, there he is," Alex pointed to a tall, buff man on the dancefloor dancing to Fake ID line dance.

(Okay, no but IMAGINE Price doing the Fake ID line dance from Footloose...jaw dropped, or line dancing in general, periodt)

Y/n watched in amazement as she watched this man dance with perfect synchronization with the rest of the people dancing around him.

"Wow," she said with a smile.

"Yeah, he's being a showoff, come have a drink with us," Alex said.

-----------

3:10PM

Y/n talked with the guys and enjoyed her drink given to her by Alex. Alex promised to give her the first drink of the night.

"HEY! Price, this is Y/n," Alex said, and Y/n placed her drink down and turned to Price.

Price gave Y/n a smirk and titled his cowboy hat towards her.

"Howdy," he said, Y/n felt her cheeks heat up.

"Hi," she said with a smile.

Alex could see Y/n's cheeks all heat up, he smirked and gently nudged his shoulder at Y/n.

"Hey," she whispered at him.

"Why don't we go play pool, Price, Y/n you guys stay here and guard our spots," Alex said.

"Yeah, yeah, sure thing," Price said.

Alex and the rest of the guys left the bar and Y/n and Price just awkwardly looked away from each other feeling embarrassed from being left alone with each other.

"Sorry about Alex," Price said.

"It's okay."

"Are you new in town? I've never seen you here before?"

"Yep, I just moved in this afternoon, Alex is the first person I met while I've been here and now, I guess his friends are my friends, maybe...that Ghost guy doesn't seem to like me."

"Ghost, doesn't like anyone...he just sticks with us because we're the only people who will talk to him," Price chuckled.

"Ahh~ that makes sense," Y/n said.

Price leaned on the bar counter looking at Y/n as she talked about her life about being in the city. Price has never really talked to a city girl before; he was thought that the 'city folk' were a bunch of weirdos and think only about themselves but surely enough he's wrong about Y/n.

"And I left because I wanted to change up my lifestyle, I've always wanted to be a farmer but thought I've never had the time for it, but I realized lately how much free time I have nowadays and so, I thought that I should come live out here and start my own small farm."

"How small? And what will you sell?"

"Just sheep, cows and chickens, sell wool, milk, cheese and eggs."

"Mmm~ yeah, that'll be great."

Price was listening to her talk, and he heard a certain song come on Take it off by Kesha came out, he turned and grabbed her hand.

"Hey come dance," he said.

"But I don't know how to line dance."

"That's okay, follow my lead."

They went to the dancefloor, Price stood in his position with Y/n to his left. She looked nervous but stood in her stance and watched as some people bounced to the song before the lyrics started.

Soon they started everyone started as Y/n felt lost, she didn't know what to do even when looking at Price for help. He was too big of a natural and Y/n could barely stay on her feet. When she would try and move backwards like everyone else, she tripped a bit but caught herself before she could fall.

Price saw and just chuckled at her being clumsy. Y/n could hear him chuckle at her, she felt a bit embarrassed, she stopped what she was doing and headed back to the bar.

Price looked to his right and didn't see Y/n, he looked around and saw her at the bar. He was trying to swiftly make it off the dancefloor was soon trapped on the floor by people crowding around.

Y/n sat at the bar, running her finger over the rim of her glass and looked bored out of her mind.

Alex came up next to her.

"Hey, where's Price?"

"On the dancefloor...I can't keep up," she said, taking a sip from her drink.

"It's okay, line dancing can be hard for people who don't know what to do, trust me, it was hard for me, but I got it down, later." Alex looked at Y/n looked at Price on the dancefloor and turned back to her glass.

"I think, I should go..."

"No, no, stay a bit longer," Alex tried to convince her to stay. "Do you smoke?" He asked. "Come on, you may need some fresh air, come on," Alex said as Y/n followed him outside the bar.

Price saw Y/n and Alex leave the bar to go outside. He again tried to get off the dancefloor and followed them outside.

"Hey, what happened?" He asked with his hands out looking at Alex who was leaning against the brick building and Y/n stood in front of him picking at her nails.

"Sorry...I...I just couldn't keep up and to save myself from embarrassment, I decided to stop."

"Aww, honey, it's okay-"

"Should I leave you two alone?" Alex asked, ready to put out his cigar.

"Umm~"

"If you don't mind," Price told him.

Alex left Price and Y/n alone again. She looked down at her feet as Price took Alex's spot against the brick wall.

"Honey, tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong, I just didn't want to embarrass myself or you, so I just left and went to the bar and came out here with Alex."

"Honey, I've been embarrassed before by others and let's just say some had it worse, it's your first time, who cares, everyone had their first time, line dancing. Did Alex tell you he fell probably 7 different times during Fake ID, boy could barely stand after tripping so much, he basically made camp on the ground," Price laughed trying to make Y/n feel better.

Y/n still feel awkward that she didn't know what she was doing. She tried to smile at Price telling a story about Alex falling but it didn't make her feel any better.

"Come on, honey, there has to be more to it then you thinking you can embarrass me or yourself," he said, putting his pointer finger under her chin making her look up at him.

"I just...I just need to go home, I'm tired from moving and making new friends, that I'm just worn out," she gave a lazy smile to him and was about to walk to her car, but Price stopped her.

He took his black cowboy hat off his head and stuck it on Y/n's head, some people outside saw it happen and their eyes widened at Price's sudden gesture. They've never seen Price do that.

"Price?" He leaned forward and his lips touched hers, he was gentle about it and smirked when he pulled away from her lips.

"I have a question for you, little lady."

"O-Okay," Y/n was too stunned to even think straight.

"Do you know the hat rule?"

"Hat rule?"

"I know you, city folk probably don't do that, but here...in the country, when someone puts their hat on your head...it means they're taking you home...and you little lady, get to come home with me," he said with a cheesy grin on his face.

Y/n was shocked that he did this, she JUST met him tonight, at least take her on a date before making her 'yours' first Price, come on now.

"D-Do I have to go with you tonight?"

"Nah. but it just shows that...you're mine and whoever fucks with you, I'll know," he said with a smirk on his face.

"Price."

"Hm?"

"Take me home, please."

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8:26PM

Price had picked up Y/n out of his red and white Ranger. He kicked his door open and was kissing Y/n’s lips getting a soft moan from her.

He smirked and took her to his bedroom. He placed back on the ground as his hands found her butt and started to gently squeeze them and unzip her dark green dress letting it fall to her ankles.

She kicked it away just leaving her in her underwear. She could hear Price struggling to unbuckle his pants, so, she decided to help him. Her hands were a natural, she pulled his unzipped pants to the side where she can feel his hardened dick in her palm.

She smirked into the kiss as she could feel his hot breath on the side of her neck. Her hands moved up and down, they were soft and felt like someone was barely touching him.

"Oh g-god," he mumbled, he kissed her neck some more but could barely stay on his feet from how gentle she was being with him.

"Am I hurting you?" She asked.

"N-No...I'm...f-fuck," he mumbles again.

Y/n fell on her back on the bed behind her teasing Price once she stopped, she looked down at him, he was taking off his shirt and pants, he removed his cowboy hat and put it on Y/n's head.

"Holy fuck, you look amazing in it, little lady," he said, licking his bottom lip.

"Thank you, kind sir," she tipped the hat at him with a cheeky smile on her face.

He trapped her on the bed and kissed her lips, his hands ran all over her body, holding her waist and he moved his hands down to her thighs and pulled her the edge of the bed.

Price looked down at her and kissed her lips again, his hands cupped her face. She started to remove her underwear and Price smirked before sticking his fingers into his mouth getting them wet and feeling her folds, they were already wet.

He stuck them inside of her lower half and earned a loud and high-pitched squeal from her. Her hand gripped his wrist trying to push his fingers out, but she didn't want them to leave her.

He moved his fingers in and out of her quickly and earned a moan from her. She looked down at his fingers inside of her and watched him pull them out seeing a thick white substance thickened on his middle and ring finger.

He brought his fingers to his mouth and cleaned them off, she felt her folds drench in the white liquid. He bent down to her clit and licked the white liquid clean off her, she grabbed a handful of his hair wanting him to keep going and not stop.

"P-Please don't s-stop, P-Price," she moans. His tongue went inside of her and licked her folds again.

"Hmmm~" he hums and sat up, his left hand grabbed her wrists holding them above her head and his right hand on his dick hitting his tip just above her clit. She moans at the wet sounds clapping against each other.

"Ah!" She moans.

He pushed himself inside of her. She looked helpless underneath him; his right hand held her waist, gripping her tightly that he could very well leave a hand mark on her side.

He moved slowly at first but soon picked up the pace when he could feel her tighten around his dick. He bit his bottom lip possibly making it bleed.

He leaned down to her lips kissing them, once he pulled away, he could see the blood on her lip, he wiped his lip with his thumb and saw the blood and licked his thumb removing the blood from her lip.

Y/n didn't care she was feeling good by Price. He didn't stop moving fast, he wanted her to moan his name, moan so loud that her voice breaks. He cups her face and kisses her lips again.

"H-Holy fuck," he cussed under his breath as he looked at Y/n's face, it was red, and he could see tears threatening to fall from her eyes. He wipes her tears away getting a soft smile from her.

"Are y-you sure I'm n-not hurting you?" He asks.

"I-I'm sure," she stutters as her head went back and moaned again feeling her stomach tighten and she could feel that same liquid run down her clit and possibly onto the bedsheets, Price was huffing and puffing due to the feeling of coming as well.

He pulled out and he watched the cum quickly squirt out of her, he licked his lips and grabbed a rag to help clean her up.

----------

Price had started a bath for Y/n. She was currently in it washing herself as Price stripped the bed and put clean sheets on it and had sweatpants hanging low on his waist showing off his Calvin Klein boxers.

He fixed the pillows and went to the bathroom with some clean clothes for Y/n. She looked up at him with tired eyes and saw him drop an oversized t-shirt and a clean pair of boxers on the sinks counter.

He sat on the edge of the bathtub and looked down at her.

"How's the bath?"

"Good, I love this feeling," she said, bring her hand out of the water and watching the water droplets fall back into the tub.

"I'm glad..." he said, cupping her face. "Tomorrow...would you like me to show you around, my property?"

"That'll be great, thank you," she said with a soft smile on her face.

-----------

Y/n came into the bedroom and fell on one side of the bed and cuddled up to Price's chest, she grabbed her phone and wanted to play dirty like her 'best friend' did with her.

She got on Price's stomach, he was confused and placed his hands on the side of her thighs.

"What are you doing?" He asks.

"Just...a little payback for what my 'friend' did to me, by getting together with my ex. I'm going to show I'm not bothered by it and show you off...I'm not gonna show your face, I'm just going to make them feel jealous that I moved on and they can't hurt me," she said with a smirk on her face.

She took a photo of her sitting on her stomach showing off his toned body, his hands on her thighs and her left hand placed on his stomach.

She took several others, one where she leaned against his chest and showed a bit of his face, but she put a blue heart emoji over his face.

She posted them to her social media and within an instant people were liking it and some people, she did still keep in touch with where wandering who this guy was with Y/n.

"She's mad," Y/n evilly giggled at her 'friend' commenting.

Best_friend132: *Girl, you've only been there for a day and you're already screwing someone*

Y/n rolled her eyes and tossed her phone to the nightstand and looked at Price with a smile on her face. She cuddled to his side and Price placed his hand on her waist as he read his book and Y/n could look at the pages with him.

"What even is this?"

"It's called 'Ace' it's about this Mafia couple who hate each other but in the long run fall in love with each other," she sat up stunned that Price, would read romance books, he doesn't even look like he would even read books. If he did it would be a hunter magazine.

"You read romance novels?"

"Yeah, some are interesting, but I usually read adventures, thrillers and humor, really. But some romance books are good."

"Never expected you to read romance novels," she giggles at him.

"Yeah, I know. I try and keep this away from the guys, they'll never let it down." He said, shaking his head and putting his book down and hugged Y/n's waist before they both drifted off to sleep.

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5:00AM

Y/n woke up to the sound of a rooster doing his usual morning call, Price woke up as well with his face berried into the crook of her neck and gave her a slight kiss.

She moaned into him kissing her neck, she cupped the side of his head and she felt him rub his hardened dick against her.

"Price."

"Sorry, can't help it..." he said as Y/n placed her hand in his pants and started to help him out.

She moved her hand up and down, her thumb touched the tip of his dick, he gave out a very breathy groan.

"Fuck," he moans before leaking cum on her thumb. It was very quick, and he knows that, he wasn't embarrassed he finished fast, he just wanted to cum in Y/n's hand. It was just...amusing to him to cum inside her hand.

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7:46AM

Price had gotten ready for his farm work, Y/n sat on the porch waiting for Price, she looked up when she heard the screen door to the house slam shut.

"Come on, let me show you around."

"Okay," she stood up excitedly and followed Price around his farm like she was a lost puppy, which she was, she didn't know where everything was.

[fantasyfantasygames]

Circles of Heaven

Circles of Heaven, Eustace Selden, 1998

Circles of Heaven (CoH) started off as a hard rebound against the Satanic Panic - by an evangelical kid. The goal was to make an RPG that would be considered holy. This... did not happen.

The author did his first writing when he was 14, which beats me by a year. Unlike me, he was raised in... well, a cult. The first version of CoH was about playing angels, but it was also full of proto-quiverfull eschatological heaven-justifies-the-means propaganda. By the time he was 17, his friends had successfully pulled him out of the cult and gotten him living with distant relatives in Tacoma. The author's changing worldview, the evolving music scene, some bootleg anime, and suggestions from the same friends - seriously, this friend group is fantastic - led to a major revision of the game. It was published locally in 1998, printed by a local shop and driven around to game stores and bookstores until they found some that would sell it.

Chargen is mostly random. You pick your Nobility and Corpus. Nobility is your rank, which doesn't let you order each other around but does apply to certain creatures. For example, Archdukes can give orders to insects; a Prince or Princess of Heaven can give orders to mammals (except humans). You get some alliterative skills related to your type of creature - Archdukes get bonuses to Clandestine, Collective, and Contaminate.

Corpus is your body, and I think it's a particularly fun part of the game. Characters in CoH are angels. They're not traditional biblical angels, because the bible is secretly the work of Satan - full of half-truths more dangerous than outright lies. Instead, they're inspired by the weirdest of monsters: adlets, nuckelavee, ouroboros, futakuchi-onna, penanggalan, and a several others. You are both a human being and your monster self at the same time. You can do things that either form could do, or even things that would need both a monster and a human in the same place at the same time, and it doesn't have to make sense to see.

You roll for your Hunt (the kind of people you're here on Earth to help or punish, gives skill bonuses), your Time (the hour each day where you have extra-special powers), your Vision (how you think the world could be made ideal, gives you more skill bonuses), and your Ruling Virtues. Oh, and your attributes. Those are done on a 5-15 scale generated from a d100 table. I did say this game was written in the early 90s.

You also roll for your equipment. Not boring mortal stuff, but for a wide variety of sacred items that you hold in potentia near you and can manifest at need. Shields of fire. Shadow citadels that can hide you overnight. Flocks of stained-glass butterflies that provide cover and distracting fascination. Daybreak, the mace made of pure sunlight. Nullblades that wield themselves and absorb bullets and magic alike. Fatehook, a crochet hook that can re-knot the fabric of the world - slow to use but flexible and devastating.

The system is mediocre. It's basically a heavily-stripped-down Rolemaster, with no critical hits or spell lists. If you can't come up with anything from Rolemaster that isn't the critical hits table, you're not alone. CoH's system sort of slid into my brain and slid right back out without making an impression.

The place the game is really lacking is art. Most of it is from early otaku who loved anime but had never taken an art class. The best of it turned out to be traced from manga. The cover was a black-and-white ouroboros on a white background, which, while still not particularly well-drawn, was at least striking on the shelf.

Eustace eventually moved on. In an interview in 2012 he said that writing the game was a cathartic experience for him, helping him understand where he came from and embrace where he was going. Once it was out, he didn't feel the need to keep writing. I hope he finds a creative spark again some day - I think a shorter version (with better art) would fit well with games like Mörk Borg and Songbirds.

[pricegouge]

Fatted Rabbit Part Five on AO3

Contents

Bearshifter!Price x reader | explicit

Of course the gym is actually a little busy on the one day you need to carry in all your toiletries. No one notices you, but you can't help feeling extremely obvious: the one big girl here who doesn't actually spend much time on any of the equipment, walking out an hour later fully primped and pampered. Whatever, it's worth it. You can't deny that you look good.

Of course the gym is actually a little busy on the one day you need to carry in all your toiletries. No one notices you, but you can't help feeling extremely obvious: the one big girl here who doesn't actually spend much time on any of the equipment, walking out an hour later fully primped and pampered. Whatever, it's worth it. You can't deny that you look good.

Dark, high waisted pants and a ribbed tank top turtleneck paired with some cute booties. At first you'd been self conscious about the way the outfit hugged your curves, but you figured if, by some miracle, John hadn't noticed you're fat by now, it was best to break that illusion early. And after putting on some jewelry for the first time in months, you couldn't deny the overall effect wasn't exactly unpleasant. They were nothing special, but sentimental items you couldn't bear to leave behind when you'd cut and run. You may still sell the necklace, but for today it adds a good bit of contrast and blessed distraction from the tight knit top. You planned on wearing the good bra today but when you'd pulled it out, it was a bit musty so you had to settle for an unlined underwire one. You're desperately hoping this coffee shop hasn't turned off the heat yet.

Well, maybe a little chill would be okay. The girl in the mirror is conspiratorial as she takes in your image. It's kind of hard to believe that's you. You haven't seen yourself this eager and giddy since… well… Phil, maybe. But even that was different. Phil was the last in a long line of bad choices. It's possible John is the first in a similar line, sure, but the distinction is important. Means you're not just excited about him, but also how you're feeling yourself. It's far too early to be thinking long term, but you've decided to let this play out. You've definitely proven to yourself you'll be okay on your own, so you don't feel like you're just running into the arms of some savior or anything.

John's just extremely attractive, and sweet so far. So if the extremely attractive man wants to be sweet to you, you're not gonna get in his way.

You turn your phone on as you head over to the street John had mentioned. You were fairly sure you knew which cafe he had in mind, but still relieved to find a text from John waiting for you, confirming it. You felt bad when you also found one asking if you wanted him to pick you up, unsure when he'd sent it and how long you'd ignored him. Ah well, easy enough to pretend you'd been busy at the gym all morning and had missed it. Not exactly untrue. Perhaps you should pick up some of those battery pack things so you could keep your phone on more often.

Probably, you should admit you were living out of your car, as it was sure to come up. Though, you couldn't deny the strategic advantage of keeping him a bit at arm's length; prevent yourself from being stupid and all that.

You sigh, pulling into the parking lot. You'd purposely shown up five minutes late in the hopes that he'd already be inside waiting for you, as you didn't want him to approach the Jeep and spot the bed, or the tiny mobile kitchen where a passenger seat should be. Not for the first time, you wish you'd been able to get a sprinter van or maybe even a truck with a cab - something with a hair more privacy. But it wasn't like you could afford two car payments so you had to commit to a model that wouldn't raise Phil's suspicions. Ironically, now it raised everyone else's. Well, at least you don't spot John loitering around the lot waiting for you. You shoot him a text as you head in about only just seeing his message and explain you're already there so you'll grab them a table, but as you walk through the door you find him waiting in the vestibule in a friendly smile and a nice, slightly oversized sweater, his hair still hidden under a gray beanie. His smell hits you like a brick wall, nearly makes you drool.

"'Morning. Sorry, just seeing this," you shake your phone at him in explanation and he just shrugs, unaffected.

"S'alright, honey. Just glad you found it okay. Shall we?" He holds the door open for you and guides you through with a hand at your back. It doesn't leave as the two of you make your way to the counter and you find yourself unable to help but compare the gesture to the way Phil used to use it to subtly manhandle you in public, guiding you wherever he wanted to go, always marching you a half a step ahead of him. John's hand is gentle, however, a steady presence that turns with you when you take the lead. Perhaps a soft invitation to get closer. You don't, yet, but it's the coaster all over again and you wonder if all of John's unassuming invitations will be this hard to refuse.

You order an iced chai with cold foam. John surprises you with some monstrosity covered in whipped cream and chocolate drizzle alongside a bag of donuts and turnovers. You tease him about having a sweet tooth but he doesn't look at all ashamed when he nods his head emphatically, taking the food with a kind of joy such things usually only instilled in small children. For yourself you just order a cheesy scone but once you take your seats, John makes it quite clear that he expects you to share in his bounty. You're not really one for sweets but when he drizzles some honey on an apple turnover you can't help but take a fork to it.

As the two of you settle in, it dawns on you that you haven't been on a date with someone you actually want to talk to in years. It makes you nervous, all the instincts you held for this stupid little dance having flown right out the window. The sudden insecurity leaves you floundering. What if you've been misreading him? What if he's just being friendly to the new semi-permanent staple in town? What if he saw your Jeep that day on the trail and figured you out, was just being charitable to the local scamp?

It turns your stomach a bit, and John seems to notice. Frowning, he asks if something isn't to your liking and you hurry to reassure him.

"No, it's not that. Everything's great. It's just -." You hedge your bets, decide to put out feelers, "Thanks for inviting me. Been looking forward to seeing you again." Okay well that may have been too heavy handed, but thankfully John straight up beams in response.

"Pretty girl, I should be thanking you." Oh right, the flirting. You feel silly now, as you're pretty sure charity workers don't call their cases pet names, or make jokes about spending the night, or hand out their numbers on proprietary drink coasters. In retrospect, you should've seen it coming, but the hairpin turn of falling down your own insecure rabbit hole to being hoisted out by such a handsome man calling you pretty leaves you blushing and John's smile only grows. "Was very excited to hear from you. Can never be sure how long tourists plan on staying." He raises an eyebrow at you in question and you realize up until now you've successfully evaded these kinds of questions. Right. On the run. Being sneaky. Doesn't necessarily combine well with dating, even just casually.

"Plan is to stay the season. Subject to change."

You think you see a frown flit across John's features but he schools it away quick enough. "And what's the criteria for change?"

You shrug, fake casual. "Might stay longer if I like it. Or head out early if I don't." Read: if I catch even a scent on the wind of my psychotic ex coming to call, you add silently.

"Well then, I'll just have to be sure to show you a good time, eh?" John's smile is warm and friendly but maybe a little worried, which you choose to interpret as him not wanting you to leave.

So you smile in return. "Oh? Has your cook come up with more social activities, then?"

"Simon," John laughs, "my head brewer, actually, but he's my chef and personal romance coach whenever needed, yeah. As with everything, he had plenty of suggestions."

"Ah, one of those whether you want to hear 'em or not types, eh?"

"In his own way, yeah. Would almost rather he just out and say it all than wait for me to flounder and call me an idiot for not thinking of whatever he had in mind from the start."

"Oh, no! And you keep this guy around?"

"Well he fuckin' saved my skin with you, dinnie?" John laughs.

"Bah, you weren't in such a bad way there," you wink and can't help but laugh when John looks just as excited about that as he was about the donuts. "Well. Let's hear 'em. What else does this town and its residents have to offer?"

"Do you like ice skating?"

"Oh god, haven't been since I was a kid. Was never much good but it was pretty fun."

"Great. We can make fools of ourselves together, then. Local rink has one last free skate for the season on Sunday."

"It's a date," you grin and then grin some more when John looks like he might eat you alive but settles for locking ankles with you.

The conversation gets easier after that, the awkwardness of figuring out each other's intentions well and truly out of the way. John talks about his business and asks about what you do. You feel bad lying to him but he'll eventually learn about your living situation and you can't be both unemployed and homeless in his eyes - even if it is true. You invented some remote sales position for conversations exactly like this, and John accepts the answer easily.

"Makes sense why you can just leave whenever you want," he comments, and you think maybe you detect some bitterness about that. "Reminds me… tell me to fuck off if you'd prefer not to share, but where are you staying that's allowing you to play it by ear like that? The hotels around here get bloody pricey in the summer, just so you know."

Well, fun while it lasted.

"Ah, about that. I'm embarrassed to admit it but I know it can be a deal breaker for some, so you should probably know I'm currently living out of my car…" you trail off pathetically, not sure how to finish and hoping John's reaction will help guide you.

Thankfully, John looks more confused than put off by it. "That safe?"

"M grade NHTSA," you joke, but the question brings to mind a recurring nightmare of Phil taking a crowbar to your windshield in the middle of the night and you have to suppress a cringe.

"If you need a place to stay -," John hedges but you interrupt him with a raised hand.

"I don't, thanks. This is something I planned for and wanted to do. Why I got the remote job to begin with. I have enough in savings to hunker down in hotels or whatever on nights I really need to, or put a downpayment on a place if I get sick of it, but I'm enjoying it so far, and will probably continue to do it for another year or so."

John eyes you critically but eventually nods. Not much he could say to dissuade you anyway, you suppose. "Alright, well. If you ever need a roof for a night, I can't say I'd mind the company," he winks. And just like that it's back to easy flirting and casual conversation.

Eventually John sighs and declares he'd better get along to the bar. He asks if you'd like to keep him company but you decide to pretend the same for yourself and tell him you should put in some hours as well.

"We're on for Sunday though, right?" You ask as John walks you to your car. His palm is warm on your back again, still more an invitation than a demand. You accept just a little, walk ever so slightly closer.

"God I hope so. So long as I didn't make an ass of myself, I suppose."

"No. I had a lot of fun." Drawing near the Jeep you quip, "Well. This is me," and watch his mustache twitch somewhere between an affected smile and poorly suppressed concern as he openly assesses your living conditions. "Want a tour?"

John huffs, "That's alright, sweetheart -."

"Nah, c'mon. It'll be fun. Hey MTV, I'm your local vandweller and welcome to my crib." You open the driver's door and show off the collection of bumper stickers you've stolen from highway pit stops all along your journey crowding the inner frame. "Right here in the entry I keep all my mementos. This chair is convenient," you continue with a motion to the driver's seat. "Kind of a dining room slash office situation. Over there we have the kitchen. It's efficient. And finally," you give him a saucy wink as you nod to the back, "this is where the magic happens."

"On an air mattress?" He laughs and you feign affront.

"What is this, male living spaces? I'll have you know that's a mattress pad."

"Oh, lap of luxury then."

"Only the best for me. Also, the most convenient. It's easier to cut foam to shape than to order a custom sized air mattress."

John nods, impressed. "Clever rabbit."

"I manage."

"Clearly," he thumbs a sticker from Oklahoma absently. Suddenly, you're hyper aware of the way you've been backed toward the hinge of the door - how closely John is standing, tall enough to rest his arm on the hood with no problem. You're struck by how big he is. It was harder to tell the other night, with the bar separating you. And before that, on the trail, it was easy enough to assume the majority of his bulk was an illusion presented by the coat. Now though, with him crowding you, you can't help but notice the breadth of his shoulders, or the way his sleeves stretch to accommodate his biceps despite hanging a little loosely on his torso. It's distracting, though you try to listen as he apologizes about needing to leave and assures you he had a great time.

"Me too. I'm looking forward to skating."

John smiles, the big hand on your roof lowering to gently tuck some hair behind your ear. "Me too, honey. Stay safe, swing by the bar if you want. And I meant what I said. Just text if you need someplace warm to stay. No odbligation either, that was just a joke."

You had assumed as much but it was still nice to hear confirmation. "Thanks, John. Have a good night at work."

He projects his next movement nicely, gives you plenty of time to bail if you want. You don't. You stand stalk still and let him kiss you on the forehead, his whiskers prickly, catching on your baby hairs. When he pulls away, he's smiling like he just discovered another cinnamon twist hidden in your hairline. "You too, bunny." He squeezes your hand (when did he grab that?) and you squeeze back and then he's walking backwards away from you, only breaking eye contact when he has to turn to see if he's about to be hit by a car. When he gets back to his Suburban, he turns back once more to smile sweetly. You wave, feeling gangly and stupid, but he's still grinning when he shuts his door behind him. You clamber into your own car before he can catch you staring again and wait until you're sure he's gone before letting the nervous laughter inside you finally bubble over.

Christ, he's cute. You're not sure if you've ever been on a first date with someone so openly sweet on you. Granted, it's been a minute since you've been on one, so maybe this stuff just comes with maturity, but normally there's the 'just talking' phase, where you both pretend you're not super interested in each other. Or - in your case - if you do manage to snag some real dates, you have to deal with them being embarrassed to be seen in public with you, even if they seemed way into you when no other eyes were on them. It's always been a bad cycle, one you were originally glad to be rid of when Phil and you first got serious and which you weren't looking forward to one day rejoining. You're already glad you've decided to give John a shot. This was exactly what you needed to help build your confidence back up. And hell, maybe this is a good indicator that dating after thirty is a much better experience than it was in your twenties. Even if things don't work out with John specifically, you could use a little more of this positivity in your life.

Although, you really hope things do work out with John.

Next>>

[imnotjaesblog]

Hogwarts Dreams at Night

Part 1: An Owl Appears

Warnings: None

MINORS DO NOT READ!!

Words: 4k

At eleven years old you sat by the bay window in your living room. You tapped boredly on the glass watching as two raindrops raced to the bottom. Your head resting on your palm. You sighed the right raindrop splashing onto the bottom of the window. It was another boring Sunday.

Your parents were out working. Your parents owned a flower shop in London. Your mother's dream was to have her own shop to grow and sell flowers. When an order came in for a bouquet of flowers for a wedding or Valentine's Day she always cheered. Your father followed her to London, his wish was to be with her, to always make her happy.

He did just that when they had you.

Now at eleven, you sat by the bay window waiting for them to come home. It was too wet and cold to play outside. All of your friends were home probably finishing their homework. You had completed your school work the day it was given and handed it in the same day.

You loved reading but you'd already read every book in your collection including your mother's, twice. So there was nothing left for you to do but sit and wait for them to return.

at three o'clock your parents were still out working. The nanny they left you with was asleep on the couch placed in front of the TV. The only thing that separated the two was a brown coffee table your father made.

At four o'clock you got hungry. You went into the kitchen and poured yourself a bowl of cereal, you hadn't learned how to use the stove yet but you were sure you could figure it out.

At five o'clock you laid on your bed reading again. An encyclopedia all about frogs. You had just learned about amphibians and reptiles in school. Just as you reached your favorite part, there was a tap on your window. You perked your head eyes zooming in the glass. A branch large enough to fit a bird's nest blew back and forth in the strong wind. You ignored it until you heard another tap. This time when you looked at the glass there was an owl. A white owl perched on the long branch a white envelope in its hand.

Curious you lifted from your bed leaving the book behind. You slowly walked to the window unable to wipe the smile from your lips. You'd never seen an owl so close before, let alone during this time of day. Maybe the owl was sick or perhaps blind? You thought seeing the sun barely peak over the dark clouds.

The owl shuffled side to side before it flew to the window tapping on it with its beak. You smiled eyes wide as you flicked the lock opening the window wide. The rain poured into your room landing on your white carpet. Soaking the fabric of your socks. The owl flew inside flying around your room. Creating chaos as it knocked down books and flew past your candle darkening the room. You held onto your head ducking to avoid its claws.

Once the envelope fell from its mouth and onto your bed it flew out the window. You quickly ran to shut it stopping the rain from coming inside and strong cold winds from hitting your face.

You let out a huff as you locked your window seeing the owl was gone. You turned back to your bed. The envelope sitting on the mattress. You walked over climbing onto the sheets and picking up the letter. You flipped it over seeing a red stamp holding the paper closed.

The front was addressed to you.

You had never received mail before. Well once before when your best friend Jeno invited you to his eleventh birthday party last Spring. But you had never received mail and didn't know what was inside. Nor were ever able to open up the envelopes you received anyway. When you receive your grades or tests your parents always open them.

You excitedly open the envelope pulling the folded cream colored paper out.

Dear Y/n

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl by no later than July 31st.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

You held the letter in your hands eyes gliding across the page. "Hogwarts?" you thought out loud. Every time your eyes flashed over the words witch and wizard your heart skipped a beat. An owl had come to you and delivered a letter for a magic school. To any other child, it would spark a whole new world of imagination. An escape perhaps from your boredom.

But was it true? A school is full of magic. The keys at the front door caught your attention. Your parents were finally home. Maybe they could answer all your questions.

Your tiny feet ran down the stairs. Both your parents step inside removing their shoes. Confused expression on their faces when you ran to them. Normally they'd find you deep into a book or your studies. They usually found you reading a book about whatever animal you had learned about or a piece of ancient history.

You rarely ever ran to greet them. They didn't mind it. They understood the powers a good book can hold.

"Hello darling," your mother said bending down and kissing your forehead. She squinted her eyes at the letter in your hand. Your father noticed it too. "What do you have there?" he asked pointing at the letter. You held up the cream-colored brownish letter.

"A letter from a witch school," you said eyes glowing. Your mother gasped and your father scoffed. He looked over at the nanny who was now awake. He walked over to her, paying her and quickly ushering her out. Your mother took you into the living room. You sat down on the couch. You sat in the same spot the nanny once sat in. It was still warm.

Your father sat on your left. You still held the letter between your small fingers. Your mother walked in with a sigh. She wiped her hands on her pants as she sat down on your right. A small smile formed on her lips. "May I see the letter?" she asked. You handed it to her with a small nod, as well as the envelope.

She expanded the letter reading the rest.

First-year students will require:

Three sets of plain work robes (black)

One plain pointed hat (black) for daywear

One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings) Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags. COURSE BOOKS All students should have a copy of each of the following: The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble OTHER EQUIPMENT 1 wand 1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2) 1 set of glass or crystal vials 1 telescope 1 set of brass scales Students may also bring an owl a cat OR a toad. PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

She nodded off chewing her lip. "Still the same," she said. She handed the letter off to your father.

He motioned her placing it down on the coffee table.

"What is it?" you asked the both of them. "What is Hogwarts?" you asked. Many questions flooded your mind. What did your mother mean by 'still the same'?

"Hogwarts is a school for wizards and witches," she said. You raised your bow confused. "But I'm not a witch or wizard," you responded. "They don't even exist," you said. Your mother chuckled. She gripped onto your hands looking deep into your eyes. Her warm smile calmed you. "There are many things that exist out there. Far beyond things you can imagine," she said. Your wide eyes and mind started to wonder. Surely your mother was either crazy or telling the truth.

You chose to believe she was telling the truth.

"So vampires exist?" you asked nervously. Your father chimed in. "Hogwarts isn't a school for creatures or monsters," he said touching your shoulder. You looked over at him with curious eyes. "It's a school for people like you," he said. You sat back his hand slipping off your shoulder. Your heart thumped skipping a beat. "For me?' you questioned. Your mother nodded.

"You're a witch Y/n," she said a hint of excitement in her voice.

"And a damn good one. Once they train you!" your father said charged. "Being that your mom was one of the best witches that ever existed," he said. Your mother looked away shly. While your parents egarly celebrated the letter you sat there on the brown couch still confused but intrigued.

----

At 11 you had arrived at the train station. You stepped onto platform 9 3/4 after running through the wall of the station saying goodbye to your parents. You were pleased to discover Jeno had also received a letter in the mail awaiting his arrival at Hogwarts. You had both gone to the station together. You both sat beside each other on the train. Looking outside the window. Wandering eyes glowing as kids much older than you walked around looking as if they knew exactly where they were going.

Once everyone boarded you and Jeno sat back on the chairs of the train sitting right across from each other.

"My father told me of a sport called Quidditch. He said he used to play during his time at Hogwarts," Jeno began excitedly feet barely touching the floor of the train. They swung back and forth as he spoke. A proud smile on his lips.

"I'm thinking of trying out for the team," he said. You nodded mimicking his smile. "I'm sure you'll make it. You were our school's best football player," you said. Jeno went to speak but a smaller boy with glasses walked by. He looked into your cart eyeing the book beside you. He scoffed pointing at it.

"Frogs? Seriously? Are you nine?" he asked cocky smile on his lips. You looked over at the book and then at him with a shrug. "I like reading it. Why do you care?" you asked a scrunch in your nose in annoyance. He scoffed arms crossing over his chest. "Frogs are boring and slimy," he said stepping into your cart. He moved the book to the side but it ended up falling on the ground.

You went to get it but Jeno grabbed it for you. "Thank you," you said with a smile. Jeno smiled at you and sent the stranger a dirty look. There was a small beat of awkward silence.

"Are you two some sort of couple?" he asked. Both you and Jeno frowned facing morphing into disgust. You shook your head. "No. He's my best friend," you said. Jeno nodded, "Besides I have a girlfriend," he said. The boy with the glasses chuckled. "Relax," he said. He turned back to you. He opened the bag he held handing you a book.

"Read this instead. It's way more interesting than that boring book of yours," he said handing the brown old book to you. You dusted it off.

1,000 Magical Herbs and Fungi

You looked up seeing the boy still next to you. "Why are you still here?" you asked. He opened his mouth surprised. Then closed it. He opened it again to speak but didn't. Instead, he stood up readying to exit the cart. Before he could exit an older lady with a cart of sweets stopped in front of him. She offered him some but he refused shaking his hand.

Jeno's eyes twinkled at the sweets. He had only seen hundreds of different candies once in London at a sweet shop. He stood up pushing the boy to the side. He huffed dusting off his brown vest. He fixed his glasses.

"Excuse me," he said to the lady. She moved her cart to the side for him to exit. Once he stepped out he turned to you.

"Make sure you return that book!" he said with a point of his finger. You went to ask him his name but he walked away. You huffed sitting back into the seat. He reminded you of a girl in your class. Always acting like she knew more than you. She constantly reminded you when she scored higher than you did. Especially on days you missed class because you were fighting her friends behind the school for stealing your books and homework. Samantha hated you were smarter than her.

Jeno sat down across from you. Many different colored sweets in his hand. He offered you a bright pink cotton-shaped candy but you shook your head. He shrugged moving closer to the window eating his sweets and watching each tree pass by. You turned to the book, eyeing the book of frogs. Maybe if you were going to Hogwarts it was time to leave the children's books behind and start focusing on things you'd need to know.

Like magic plants and their purposes. You opened the book to the first page. You noticed the book came from a library. You scanned the list of names. The last and most recent name reading was Huang Renjun.

----

At 11 years old you arrived at Hogwarts. At dusk, you traveled on a boat to reach the school. It was dark when you finally entered the school. You couldn't help but look and gawk at every piece of art, staircase, candle in the school. It was like something out of a storybook. The castle expanded the further you walked in. Feeling like the halls never ended.

You and the rest of the students were ushered into the dining hall. The tables quickly filled with kids just around your age. You stood close to Jeno. You both sat down at the same table. From where you sat you could see the kid from the train sitting beside a plumber boy with puffy pink lips. The two started talking becoming quick friends.

You looked away observing the rest of the room. Everything looked perfect, magical. Candles lit from the ceiling, floating over everyone. You could see stars from thousands of miles away. The table in front of you was filled with delicious full-course meals. The room was loud everyone excitedly getting to know one another and breathless taking in the large dining room.

You looked around the room eyes meeting with a brown-haired boy. He looked in your direction. Your eyes went big seeing him look back at you. A small smile formed on his lips. He waved at you. You raised your hand slowly waving back. Jeno leaned over your shoulder eyeing the direction you stared in. He zoomed in on the boy squinting his eyes. Once he realized you were making googly eyes to the boy he laughed.

You huffed rolling your eyes. "Ooo Y/n has a crush," he teased poking your shoulder repeatedly. You shrugged him off crossing your arms in front of you. "Shut up," you spat back annoyed. You looked away from him and at the new boy. He was laughing with a few boys next to him. Your hand rested on your palm eyes resting in his direction.

----

You were 11 when the sorting hat placed you in Gryffindor just after it placed Jeno there. You happily went to Jeno's side. Happy to remain close to your best friend.

You were 11 when the sorting hat placed that strange annoying boy with the glasses into Ravenclaw.

You were 11 years old when the boy with the brown hair and pink lips who you discovered was named Na Jaemin was placed into Slytherin. Your mother warned you of Slytherin's. But at that moment you had forgotten and were just happy to be with your best friend.

You looked at each boy and back at the room with a smile. You were ready to begin this new journey of your life.

Little did you know that these three boys would create such chaos in your life.

-----

You were in your second year at Hogwarts. Just twelve years old when your professor had to pair up with another student for a project in your Spells class. You went to choose Jeno, but your professor stopped you.

"Y/n," he called while everyone else found their partners.

You approached his desk Jeno waiting for you at your shared desk. "Yes?" you asked. He flicked away an inch on his nose. He motioned to the other students in the room. "You're a smart girl. Jeno doesn't need your help. I'm going to pair you up with a different student," he said. You weren't too worried about finding another partner. In your first year, you and Jeno made a new group of friends.

Still didn't mean you didn't want to pick your partner like everyone else.

"Who?" you asked. He pointed at a boy behind you. You turned and any worry about who it might be left your mind. It was the same brown-haired boy from the dining hall. The one with the big eyes and wide smile. He was leaning on his desk talking to a few of his friends. His head fell back in laughter.

"Jaemin," he said. You smiled a part of you excited. This was your chance to talk to him, get close to him. However, you had never really talked to a boy you liked before. Not without Jeno in your ear teasing you. This time it would be normal.

You made your way to him, a pep in your step. You tapped him on his shoulder. His friends, all Slytherin, eyed you. Their laughter dying down including Jaemin's. He turned his head over his shoulder tongue poking the inside of his mouth.

"Can I help you?" he said rather rudely. You brushed it off. Ignoring his bothered tone. "We're partners on the Spells project," you said. He scoffed leaning his body to you. "No we're not," he said. His friends started to chuckle. You could feel your cheeks heating up. You bit the inside of your mouth. It was getting harder to dismiss his tone.

You let out a sigh. "Look I don't want to be your partner either. Let's just get the project over with and I'll never speak to you again," you said annoyed. His laughter died down. He raised a brow pretending to think. He tapped his finger on his chin and then snapped his two fingers together.

"How about you do the entire project on your own and never speak to me again?" he said in the form of a question, a wide grin on his face. Just as you went to speak a book went flying to his head. Everyone turned to see who did it. Jeno had his arms crossed over his chest suspiciously looking the other way. You chuckled looking back at Jaemin who rubbed the back of his head.

He was the shortest crush you'd ever have.

-----

In year three you and Huang Renjun began to compete. You spent most of your time studying. Jeno being on the Quidditch team allowed you that extra time alone to study. You'd sometimes see Renjun in the library studying. You'd send glares to each other muttering under your breath.

In the classes you shared you'd always make sure your hand was up before his to answer the question the professor asked. At one point many students placed bets to see which of them would score higher on an exam.

You won almost every time.

----

By year four you and Jeno started to grow slightly distant. He was still always there for you and vice versa but things became more complicated when he started to become more curious about dating.

It seemed every week he had a new girl he liked. With a new girl in his life, he was crushing on.

You never paid too much attention to Jeno's dating life. Jeno for some reason loved to be involved in yours. You had a few crushes here and there but nothing ever too serious. He seemed to always want to know about them. If they were good enough for his best friend. If they treated you right.

But that's only for crushes he knew about. Most times he was playing Quidditch or with a girl.

You tended to focus more on your books anyway.

---

By year five you had officially hated Na Jaemin.

Jaemin seemed to pick you as his next victim. He teased you, but in the way Jeno did. When Jeno annoyed you it was out of friendship love. You knew deep down Jeno was harmless. But Jaemin was completely different. The boy was nutritiously known for playing around with girls before they slept with them, and then ghosted them.

You were not going to be one of those girls.

Jeno never really liked Jaemin either. Ever since he dissed you in front of the entire class during year two. However, there was not much he could say or do. The two of you in the Gryffindor common room had shared a moment togther.

He kissed you in the middle of the night. You kissed him back. He then asked you to the Yule ball. You said yes and when the night approached you saw him with another girl, laughing and dancing together. Then you saw them kiss later that night. Jaemin who saw the whole thing happened left you alone.

You weren't together but it still hurt.

That night you had your first argument with Jeno. Jeno was tired of you ignoring him. He just wanted to know what he did wrong. You told him and he became even more upset by your reasoning. He tried to explain the girl was his friend and he only danced with her because Jaemin stood her up.

He said "One Dance. I danced with her once because she was upset about Jaemin," he said.

"You still kissed her," you'd fight back. Jeno stunned and with a chest full of pain would ask. "You saw that?" to which you have replied with.

"Are you more upset that you hurt my feelings or that you got caught?"

You stopped being friends with him after that. It was too weird.

Renjun didn't bother you much during this time. You still competed but in silence.

Jaemin loved the fact you weren't friends anymore. It meant he could talk to you without Jeno getting in the way.

----

By year six you had gotten a boyfriend named Jaehyun. He was older than you and a Gryffindor as well. He was also captain of the Quidditch team. Jaehyun was a great guy. He treated you with respect and was very kind to you.

Jaemin and Jeno both didn't like him.

Jaemin still wouldn't leave you alone. Using magic to distract you during class.

Renjun became somewhat of your friend. He'd talk to you in the halls but it was really only to gloat about his accomplishments in and outside of Hogwarts. Any chance he got he would approach you. Reminding you that not only did he have rich parents but that he was smarter than you.

That same day would be the first time you got in serious trouble.

In the library, you used a spell to erase all his notes from year one to six. He failed his exam because of you. Your professors were disappointed. Word got out of what you did. Some people said you cheated. Others said he deserved it.

All you remember is that it made you feel good.

---

Now you'd start year seven. Much older and mature now. You and Jaehyun had broken up due to distance. You and Jeno were still not friends, Jaemin still enjoyed bothering you, and Renjun still hated you.

You still cared about Hogwarts, deeply. But not in the same way you had felt during year one. The same spark you had felt in the beginning began to fade. You started to imagine a world outside of Witchcraft. Maybe a normal job like your mom?

She was a witch and owned a flower shop in the muggle world. Maybe you could do something like that too.

So you thought.

To Be Continued...

Hope you enjoy my new series, Hogwarts Dreams at Night.

I'm excited for you all to read it!

See you soon ;)

Tag: @girlwholovesIpreppyattire