#i started this ages ago and never finished it

[washoping]

Welcome distraction

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Emily Prentiss x reader

summary: Emily notices you're having a hard time working on your assignment, so she decides it's time for you to take a break.

tags: smut, teasing, praise kink, sex

f/f │ 2.9k words │ ao3

a/n: english isn't my first language so all typos and mistakes are mine!

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The room was heavy with the weight of yet another long exhausting day of studying. The clock was ticking past eight already as you tried to use the last drops of your energy on the assignment you were working on. The laptop screen casted a cold blue glow over your desk that was embarrassingly messy compared to what it was usually like. The neatness you were accustomed to was replaced by notebooks, notes, pens and highlighters scattered all over, piled on top of each other, a half-drunk coffee mug being the cherry on top.

Your eyes felt tired. They were burning from hours of reading. The words on the screen had started blurring together what felt like ages ago but you had tried your best to just power through, telling yourself you’d be done soon. But every tick of the clock on the wall next to you felt like a reminder of just how much you still had left to do.

A quiet knock at the door broke through your concentration, making you look up from the screen your eyes had been glued to for hours. It took you few seconds to adjust. You saw Emily standing in the doorway with her arms crossed, taking you in with the warmest of eyes. The softness in her gaze when seeing you made you feel like she had been waiting for this moment, to force you away from your screen.

”Hey”, she said, her voice a gentle murmur. ”You’ve been at this for hours already. How much longer are you planning to go for?”

You exhaled, rubbing your eyes, feeling glad about your decision not to wear makeup today.

”I’m just trying to finish this section, but I still have a lot left. It feels never-ending.”

You thought about the amount of work there was left to do. It felt like you had been writing the same damn sentence again and again for the past few hours, making no progress, because you were exhausted. That was something you couldn’t tell Emily. Nor the fact that you could feel a headache forming in the distance as well.

Emily stepped closer, her gaze sweeping over the mess of notes, school supplies and the stained coffee mug on your desk. You half-expected for her to make a comment, to be disappointed in you and the fact that you hadn’t taken care of it. But instead, she didn’t really show any emotion. She just turned her gaze to you instead of the mess.

”Is the assignment due tonight?”

You shook your head, feeling your cheeks heating up a bit after hearing the commanding tone of Emily’s voice. You could guess what was coming. It was crazy what her voice alone could do to you. You felt nervous all of a sudden.

”Not technically”, you answered with your own voice trembling a bit. You escaped Emily’s eyes by turning your gaze back to the open document on your laptop’s screen.

You heard Emily chuckle softly and could imagine the slight smile forming on her face without even looking at her. She walked to you, her hands settling on your shoulders. You shivered and felt your breath hitching as her thumbs started working into the tense muscles on your shoulders and upper back. It was so easy to melt under her touch almost immediately. Your eyes closed, involuntarily. Emily’s hands made it easy for you to forget about the assignment. Like magic.

Slowly she moved even closer to you and it sent shivers down your spine. You bit your lip, trying to keep your composure.

”Then it can wait, honey”, she whispered, her breath warm against your ear. You couldn’t help but lean against her head a bit to recover from the shivers her whisper caused. ”You’ve been at this all day. The assignment will still be here tomorrow, I promise. But I need my baby right now.”

”Em”, you protested quickly, not knowing if you really even wanted to protest. Your voice sounded unconvincing, even to yourself. You let yourself lean back a bit further when Emily’s hands continued massaging your shoulders soothingly. ”I really should finish…”

Before you could go on for any longer, Emily stopped you.

”Babe, it’s 8 pm”, she said more firmly this time around and the authoritative tone in her voice sent the butterflies in your stomach flying. She was always hot, but this demanding bossy side of her made your brain mush. ”You’re done for the day if I say so.”

You opened your eyes to look at her, torn between your sense of responsibility and the pull of her insistent gaze. You were turned on. She was standing so close you could smell her perfume, feel her warmth. So alluring. For a moment there you forget about the screen in front of you.

”But I’ll feel better if I get a little bit more done today”, you still tried to insist, even though your tough demeanor act slipped away further and further with each press of Emily’s fingers on your skin.

And then she stopped completely.

She didn’t start arguing, didn’t say anything - instead she moved to sit beside you in the other chair in front of your desk, her chin propped in her hand as she started watching you. The determination in her eyes didn’t disappear, it just was quiet now. It still told you that she was willing to wait as long as it took. Emily wasn’t one to give up if she wanted something.

And she wanted you.

You looked at your screen, feeling her gaze glued to you while you did. It was nearly impossible to focus with her sitting so close, her presence so strong, her perfume filling your nostrils. You were screwed, but you couldn’t admit your loss in this game so easily.

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Emily’s hand caressing along her own cheek. Her fingertips tracing the curve of her neck, then dipping lower, coming to rest on top of her breast. The subtle movement was enough to pull you out of your so-called focus, your eyes flicking to her involuntarily as she gently massaged her own breast through her shirt. You couldn’t believe your eyes.

”Emily”, you murmured now wide-eyed, your voice half-pleading, half-warning.

”Yes?” she asked, sounding completely sweet and innocent while her fingers travelled from cupping her breast to her legs, stroking the top of her thighs back and forth. You couldn’t help but steal a look again, right when she moved her fingers closer to her… ”Something wrong?”

”I… I can’t focus when you’re doing that”, you admitted with an unsteady voice, nodding towards her, looking at her fingers now resting on the waistband of her trousers. You needed her to move them inside them, and her panties. To hear her gasp, moan, anything. You needed her so bad your pussy clenched.

Emily raised an eyebrow, her signature move when teasing you. A mischievous smile tugged at her lips.

”That’s too bad”, she said, not taking her eyes off you for a single second. Her other hand came to the collar of her shirt, stretching it just enough to reveal a hint of skin at her collarbone. Her eyes didn’t leave yours. She was fully aware of the effect she had on you and she wasn’t about to stop. You wiggled in your chair, feeling so turned on that it was starting to get a bit difficult to sit still.

You looked back at your screen again, determined to push through the last section no matter what. But you should’ve known it was impossible already. Emily shifted closer, her hand now brushing over your arm, gliding with that familiar gentle pressure that left your skin tingling for more.

”Em, please…” you whispered with your breath catching as she moved even closer, her lips nearly brushing against your cheek now. You expected a kiss. A peck on your cheek. Maybe her hands on your shoulders again? Anything, any contact.

But no. Instead of all that Emily slipped down from her chair, sinking gracefully down on her knees right in front of you. You felt her hands on your knees and your heart rate picked up when she gazed up at you with her big brown eyes from down there. You would’ve done anything for her.

”Emily…” you mumbled her name again. Your fingers came to grip the edge of your chair as her hands trailed upwards, a clear sign to her that you had finally given up. She took her sweet time, not hurrying one bit.

”Yes, baby?” she asked innocently with a smirk on her face, inching even closer to you, her hands gripping your thighs as her eyes remained locked on yours. She stroked your thighs, her hands slowly but surely making their way underneath your night shorts you wore around the house. Easy access. You bit your lip as you felt Emily’s fingers kneading the soft skin, making their way closer and closer to your heated center. You knew you were wet. Without a question. Emily felt the warmth radiating from you and flashed you a smile laced with satisfaction at seeing you giving in.

You opened your mouth to try another weak protest but right when you were about to say something Emily’s fingers touched you through your panties and instead of words, a moan escaped your mouth. With your eyes closed you slapped the lid off your laptop down, no longer giving a damn about the assignment.

”There you go, finally… that’s my girl”, you heard Emily saying, hearing the huge smile on her face from her voice. She won and she was so happy about it.

You moaned, trying to move your hips on the chair so that Emily’s fingers would touch you again. You needed the contact so bad, but clearly she wasn’t done with the teasing yet. She grabbed the waistband of your shorts, ushering you to lift your hips a little so she could pull them off, leaving you in your panties.

”Oh baby, you’re absolutely soaked”, she chuckled when she saw how your arousal had stained your white panties with a wet spot. She touched it with her thumb, pressing the fabric against you to saturate it even more with your wetness. You squirmed. Every tiniest thing she did turned you on more and more.

When you saw her pressing her lips against the wet fabric you had to bite your lip in order to stay quiet. She looked up at you while pressing a gentle kiss on your pussy through it.

”I can stop if you really want me to”, she still dared to tease you.

You felt helpless. You swallowed hard, barely able to hold back another gasp as Emily planted another kiss on your pussy through your panties.

”I… I don’t… please… don’t stop.”

Emily smiled, pressing one final little kiss on the damp fabric before pulling it aside with her fingers and coming in direct contact with your pussy to give it a single long lick. You sighed out loud. Finally.

”Now, just relax baby and let me take care of you”, she whispered as she she settled between your legs properly, her free hand coming up to your breast to grab it. Her fingers didn’t waste any time pinching your nipple in between them, giving it a little twist. You gasped and decided to quickly undress, throwing your shirt off to the floor next to your shorts.

Air escaped your lungs as you looked down at Emily between your legs. The way she was so lovingly looking at your exposed body made it impossible for you to stay still. Her adoring eyes roamed all over your body, appreciating every single part of it. Your hips bucked, needing contact.

Emily looked up and saw the way you begged for her with your eyes. She knew that look. Her hands wandered from your boobs to your lower stomach, gently massaging it, then moving to the insides of your thighs. Before you could say the now familiar word ’please' again, her mouth finally latched on your pussy. She moaned as she tasted you and god, it was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard.

Your eyes closed and your hands flew to Emily’s hair, using your tight grip on it to keep her head exactly where you needed it to be. You caressed her scalp, the back of her neck, her hair. She gave you no mercy and worked around your clit like a game of hot and cold. Her lips came close to it and when your hips thrusted forward trying to guide her mouth to touch it, she pulled away. She wouldn’t stop teasing you.

You whimpered in frustration.

”Patience, my love”, she spoke. She knew you didn’t have it and it was especially torturous right now when she had been teasing you for a good while already.

She pressed her mouth against you again, careful not to touch your clit. Her chin rubbed against your wetness when you started to grind your pussy against her face. Her steadying hand came to your stomach, pressing down on it to make sure you would stay still and not slip further down the chair’s edge you were sitting on. When she made sure you wouldn’t fall she moved her hand to grab yours, intertwining your fingers quickly. You grabbed her hand back tightly - maybe a bit too tightly, but you couldn’t control yourself. Normally you would’ve had sheets to grab, but Emily’s hand was the victim now. You loved it when she held your hand during sex. It made the connection you felt to her even deeper.

”Oh god, just…” you spoke with a trembling voice.

”What, baby? Speak up. Tell me what you need”, she spoke as slowly as she could, making you feel her warm breath on you.

”I need you to… ah! To stop teasing me and just suck my… my clit already”, you whimpered breathily with your eyes closed, biting your lip afterwards. You were sure you would come like this too in no time, but you needed it. Emily laughed amusingly and the next thing you felt was her flicking your clit with her tongue and then sucking it, releasing it from between her lips followed with a wet sound.

You began panting, no longer in control of how your body behaved at all. You wriggled and moved your hips against Emily’s face. She moaned as she ate you out like her life depended on it and it just fired you up even more. Your free hand grabbed her hair again, pushing her closer to your pussy.

Incoherent moans and whimpers escaped your mouth as Emily picked up her already quick pace. She alternated between rapid flicks and bold strokes, which made your head spin. When you least expected it, she suddenly stuffed her tongue inside you as far as she just physically could, causing pressure against your asshole with her chin at the same time.

Your thighs clamped down as a result. Emily’s face was between them and for a second you were afraid you hurt her, but when you opened your eyes and saw from her eyes that she was clearly happy to be right there with your thighs pressed tightly around her head, your worries disappeared. Emily’s tongue flew back to your clit to play with it.

”I’m about to come”, you announced out of breath, your eyes glued to Emily’s.

”Come for me, baby. Feel good and come for me”, she murmured against you, her face buried in your pussy.

And you did as you were told. Panting Emily’s name out loud again and again, your eyes rolled back and your back arched as a strong orgasm hit you. You rode the wave, thrusting against Emily’s face that was now covered in your wetness.

”You look so, so pretty like this… My beautiful girl, I’ve got you”, she praised you when you were trying to come down from your high, your chest heaving up and down. She stroked the soft skin of your thighs, supporting you through the aftershocks and shivers of your orgasm. It was a powerful one, all thanks to Emily’s teasing.

”Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me”, you chanted repeatedly, your breath still coming in stutters. Emily got up from her knees to reach you, her hands caressing the skin of your arms in a comforting manner. They moved to grab your face between her hands and she crashed her lips against yours in a kiss that took your breath away. You tasted yourself on her lips as she kissed you, long and passionately.

”Wow”, you whispered, your forehead against Emily’s. She laughed, the sound warming your heart while you tried to slow down your breathing and heart rate. You wanted nothing more than to give the same back to Emily, so when you had calmed down from your orgasm, you kissed her again. You let your fingers slide down her body and when they touched the waistband of her trousers, she laughed again.

”Oh hey, hey… don’t you have an assignment to work on?” she asked with a huge smirk on her face, letting out a delicious moan as your fingers found their way inside her underwear. You smiled. Fuck the assignment.

[tennessoui]

november ko-fi fic!

hiya!! i am still working on the november ko-fi fic (to be published hopefully sometime this weekend)

(KUWSK family meal aka american thanksgiving themed with ✨chaos✨ to make it wholesome after the last two mob-themed ones lmao)

BUT i'm announcing here that i will be stopping the ko-fi fics after november!! with my grad program picking up, i've found that it's been really hard to balance how much i want to write, study, and just be here in this space online with y'all - and the ko-fi fics have been a ton of fun and honestly so good for my writing abilities, but they've also become a stressor the later in the month it gets without posting when i wanted to commit to having them out at the beginning of each month :(

so to make sure that no one gets charged in december, i'm just gonna delete my ko-fi the last day of november! all the fics i've posted on there will make their way to ao3 (probably in the first month of 2025) so no one will actually lose access to anything - i would just feel really bad if people were charged because they didn't see this or cause they didn't cancel in time or anything!

in all, this has been really fun for me and i'm really really so incredibly thankful for everyone who has become a supporter of my ko-fi (either for a few months or a day or the entire year it's been running). thank you thank you so much!! and i hope you enjoyed these little fics as well <3

[hwaslayer]

wildfire (cs) | 6.5

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 1.6k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing/mature language, alcohol consumption and slight intoxication, hints of a rocky relationship, i'm trying not to put any hard timestamps to anything cause i didn't flush it out like that lolol but also trying to give you a sense of a timeline! i sawrrrry!!

⇢ POSTDOC | YR 2

San adores Iseul.

And everyone knows it.

But, he looks at her like she's all he knows. Like she's a constellation of tiny details he continuously wants to memorize, like his favorite song, like she's the sunrise and sunset, the ocean, the greenest of grass. 

Bluest of skies.

He sees everything about her; everything in a sense that he's seen who she was, seeing her for who she is now, seeing her for what she'll become.

She's all he knows.

Yunho saw all of it when San first introduced him to her. He saw it all from a simple look in his eyes, down to the way he stayed close to her side.

Hand tightly laced in hers.

The way his dimples never stopped poking out.

She was special to him and Yunho was happy about it. He deserved to be happy, and quite frankly, he could see why San was constantly falling for Iseul. She was beauty and brains, kind and outgoing; all things Yunho admired about her, and then some.

He sees it.

"Where's San?" Yunho checks his watch as he leans back against the stone divider with Iseul in front of him. Tonight was a friend's birthday, a good, mutual friend between the three. He had requested to meet at the bar— a bar with games and karaoke, muted music videos playing through a projector even though there's different music blasting throughout the place.

"Not sure. I texted him but he didn't respond." 

"Maybe he'll turn the corner and surprise us." Iseul laughs at him, waiting for San to pick up the call. The original plan was for them to meet up at Yunho's and head to the bar together. But, tonight, it seemed like the plan was out the door.

"Hey, where are you at?" Iseul slightly whines over the phone, causing San's heart to break.

"I'm sorry babe, I'll be a bit late. I gotta finish imaging. Wasn't too pleased with the data I just got."

"Really?" 

"Yeah, I'm sorry baby."

"That's fine." Pause. "Yunho and I are gonna head over first then, if you're okay with that."

"That's fine, I'll see you guys there. Soon, okay?"

"Don't be too late."

"I won't. Promise." San hangs up the phone and slides it in his pocket, returning the attention to the monitor in front of him. Iseul looks defeated and it makes the smile on Yunho's face drop. He's not exactly sure when he started caring about Iseul in a certain way. He obviously started to care about her as a friend when they met years ago and got close. Things didn't feel so blurred and different back then. They'd all hang out and do things together no matter how simple it was— going grocery shopping together, movies, Yunho and San walking around aimlessly while waiting for Iseul to get her nails done. They moved as a unit.

But now, he's concerned about making her happy and he's not sure when he got to this point.

Maybe when San started focusing too much on his work? Maybe when he'd see Iseul pout and her eyes turn a little more blue and grey? 

He's torn about it because San is his bestfriend and he knows he doesn't mean any harm. He would never intentionally hurt Iseul, but he's passionate about what he does— so much that he can lose sight of the people around him. Iseul and Yunho were equally as busy, but they knew when to turn the switch off and give themselves balance. San, though— not so much. But, he would never hurt a soul. San is like that. He is quiet, he is hardworking, he is a go-getter. He is kind, he is true and he is genuine.

Iseul is looking at Yunho now and she's forcing a smile.

"He's held up in lab, but he said he'll meet us. Let's go?" He nods, but grabs her wrist just as she's about to turn on her heel and walk towards Yunho's car.

"Hey. He'll be there soon, okay?" She quietly nods. It's a very small nod, though. He barely catches it.

"Yeah, I know." He gives her one last reassuring smile before walking alongside of her to the car, popping her door open before getting into the driver's seat.

There's tension in the car.

It's subtle, but it's there.

Yunho isn't sure when it got like this. He's always used to talking to San and Iseul about everything and anything, but she's holding back tonight. Perhaps, she's just missing San.

"Did RJ tell you he was bringing the kraken?" Iseul furrows her brows at Yunho in confusion.

"Is this an inside joke for something or..?" Yunho laughs and shakes his head.

"No, no. It's rum. I forgot where he got it from but he said he really wanted us to try it."

"Oh, so he's trying to get fucked up." Iseul chuckles. "I'd like to see San like that. He needs to let loose. I feel like he hasn't had fun in a long time." She lets out a small sigh, shifting her attention out the window.

"I agree." There's a small silence. "But, he's coming tonight and he'll probably relax a bit." 

"Mm. I don't know, Yu. We haven't genuinely enjoyed things like this together in awhile."

"Let's not worry about it too much, hm?" He hums, playfully ruffling her hair when he stops at a light. It's a very lighthearted move, something he's always done in the past. Tonight, it feels different, something small but soothes the ache and fulfills the craving Iseul has.

The rest of the ride is fairly the same, typical. Yunho and Iseul talk about how their own postdoc work before talking about upcoming plans. They all plan to head to a conference soon, making a week-and-a-half long trip out of it in Southern California. 

Iseul hopes it'll be fun and exciting, nothing too stressful or work-related. She misses having fun with San.

When they get to the bar, all of their friends are already there, holed up in the large karaoke room upstairs and surrounded by finger foods and all sorts of alcohol. Iseul and Yunho shuffle along to take shots [mainly Iseul], catching up with the group in between singing, playing games outside in the main room and dancing.

"Where's San?"

"He's gonna be late." Iseul rolls her eyes drunkly. "Holed up in the lab per usual."

"Yo, is your man married to you or his work? I swear he never misses a beat in there." RJ, another mutual friend, jokes around. Iseul laughs it off but honestly, the jokes are getting old and she's over it. She takes one more shot that probably does it for her tonight, close to an hour into the party.

No San.

"Let's go dance!" Iseul says, grabbing Yunho's wrist. A few other heads follow suit, the group taking up a small space on the dance floor. Iseul is drunk, but she is happy to be around Yunho because he entertains her. He plays along, he dances along. Subtle touches on the hip, grazing her hand. Sometimes, his look lingers for a little too long. Sometimes, her face is a little too close to his.

Yunho didn't have his bestfriend and Iseul didn't have her man like they used to. They eventually found comfort in being together most of the time, comfort in each other.

Like tonight.

"Shit, finally dude! Took you so fucking long!" San laughs at RJ, who is already drunk as hell. He points to the dance floor before making a drinking motion with his hand. "They're over there, but you gotta catch up."

"I'm driving." San brushes him off with a smile before heading over to his lady and Yunho. As he approaches them, he finds Iseul and Yunho deep in conversation. She's leaning towards his ear while he's listening intently. She playfully swats him, hand landing on his chest that San can see the rock on her hand gleaming from miles away. It's ironic, but he'll shake it off because even though his thoughts can race for 100mph, he'll forcibly settle it so he can enjoy his night with people he loves.

Not sit here overthinking every action between his bestfriend and wife, especially when they've always had a good relationship.

Why the fuck would he? They'd never do that to him.

Never.

"San!" The group exclaims. Iseul quickly shifts her attention to San and gives him a tiny smile as she brushes off of Yunho— eyes hazy, cheeks a rose tint from the alcohol in her system.

"Hey." He greets the rest of the group before extending his hand out to his wife. "Hey baby." He pulls her in for a hug before placing a kiss to the side of her head.

"You finally came." She says by his ear. She pulls back and looks him in the eye. He can see the hint of disappointment, sadness. It's not the first time he's came late, and it's not the first time her and Yunho have had to take a head start.

"I'm here." Is all he says while lifting her chin up gently. She purses her lips together before letting out a soft breath.

"Yeah." She pulls away and brushes past him. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom." She stops making eye contact with him and walks off, leaving San to watch her until she makes it into the bathroom.

"Gotta stay outta that cave, my guy." Yunho says, dapping him up and pulling him in for a hug. He isn't really maintaining eye contact with San either and things just feel kinda awkward for no reason. "Let's go get you a drink." He walks off, leading the way to the bar. 

He doesn’t get it.

But, he knows they’d never do that to him.

Never.

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thespiffynerd @vixensss @santineez @nopension

[hqresovrces]

*.:｡♦ ⋅ ⋆  — ANTONIA GENTRY GIF ICON UPDATE

by clicking here, you’ll be redirected to an additional 055 gifs of antonia gentry added to her gif icon pack , now totaling 338 medium gifs.

[demaparbat-hp]

Almost

[proxythe]

happy birthday akihiko sanada i hope you enjoy being a husband and father

[severus-snaps]

Snapetober 2024 | Flame

[bumfuzzled-bee]

Old osmp drawing.

[sonikkuruzu]

[satorisoup]

people will think im ordinary until they say one (1) thing about tmnt and all of a sudden im explaining the entire lore starting from the 1990’s movie & why donatello is the best turtle i fear… T^T

tag limit fights me… i must yap… please listen… SOB </3

[lgbtimelords]

a fanfic i'll never write, part 1:

is a mirror just a reflection (or is it the door to a parallel universe)

Dreams are a weird thing.

The lapse between unconsciousness and consciousness. The moment fleeting images show up in your mind and sometimes, they quickly leave. You’re not supossed to remember them, books say. It’s repressed memories, repressed ideas, some that are kept that way for a reason. Most people don’t want to know what they mean. They don’t want to dive into the depths of their minds.

Not her, thought.

The dreams, the weird and inconsistent dreams she has every night, are the only thing she has any autonomy over. Her mind is hers. Even if sometimes it feels like her body isn’t.

They train her. Guide her. Mold her into turning into what they want, into what Alex wants. But not her mind. They can’t take away her mind, her thoughts, her dreams.

And even though part of her knows these aren’t her dreams. She still holds them close, thinks about them. Tries to analyze them, for a lack of something better to do.

She dreams of darkness. And solitude.

She sees punch after punch land against her face, seconds from each other, even though the person above her always has a different face.

She dreams of bodies falling on top of each other, unmoving and pale as they fall to the floor. Althought she never recognizes any of the faces.

She feels pain, always, in one way or another, across her entire body. Nails cursing through her blood and she’s unable to make it stop. Except it does stop, when she wakes up. Even if her beating heart and the residual pain she can almost-feel are still there.

She doesn’t know what they mean and the classic literature books that are mailed to her bring little answers. Just more questions. Just more ideas and thoughts they want to carve into her mind. She doesn’t let it. She tries to argue back with the books that offer no feedback and when Alex arrives, she tells them she agrees with the books- lets him smirk satified as she puts on her clueless face.

She wasn’t always like this. She did fall for his games. She did let him mold her mind. At first. It wasn’t until her tenth reread of The Great Gatsby that she realized it was the only act of defiance she had done against Alex- reading a book. She realized how much he hated her thoughts on it, even though her outlook was a nice one.

Why wouldn’t Alex want me to see beauty?

But she wanted to see beauty. Beauty outside of the compound she’s been confined in. But beauty seems like such a foreing concept to her. What is beauty? The dresses women describe in her books? The money and lavish jewels she’d never seen? The music she’d never heard? The beautiful people her guards describe during their breaks?

She’s not sure she has ever seen beauty. But she wants to. She desperatly wants to.

But she can’t get out.

Her life is just the couple hundred of miles that belong to this section of the Kaznian army. Her sleeping cuarters are not more than four old and empty walls. The training grounds are not more than snowy ground and thick cold air.

And she spends, day and nights, training and reading and studying. For what? She’s never told.

She learns to control her powers to the fullest. Reach their limit and know when to stop right before they leave her body completely.

She learns every language on this planet, Alex quizzing her on all of them until she’s better than him. She learns to mimic every accent and dialect under the sun- for what? She’s never told.

And months pass. Months after months after months. Alex comes and goes, like always.

He comes and goes, but the dreams are always there.

---

The ground is shaking. A lot. She faintly hears objects falling to the floor. Glass breaking. People screaming. She hears pain- like when she heard Mikhail call it out. But she cannot move now. She cannot fly away into the sun and offer her help.

She hears pain. Her feet are stuck on the ground unable to move. And she hears pain, a lot of it.

Someone tugs her arm, forces her legs to move and follow after them. She looks up- and it’s the first time she realizes how close to the ground she is- and finds the back of someone’s head. A man, looks like.

He screams words over his shoulder in a languaje she can’t understand because all she hears is pain. And she notices, when the tall man kneels in front of her, that she’s the one screaming in pain. Fear. Sadness. Confusion.

The man, eyes that she’d seen in her own reflection before, soothes her with his words. And even though she cannot know what he’s saying, she understands the meaning. “Stay calm, inah. It’ll be over soon.”

He picks her in his arms, and she hides her face in the crook of his neck. Hides away the screaming and breaking of estructures she knows they shouldn’t be falling, and takes comfort in the man’s colony and his soft clothes.

But the small comfort is ripped away when suddenly she’s not in his arms anymore. She’s alone. And it’s cold. Everything is so cold. The chair she’s sitting in is cold. Her clothes, which are supposed to bring her warmth, are cold. Her hands are cold. And when her fingers slowly trace the glass in front of her, it’s cold too.

Although the cold isn’t the worst part. It’s the darkness. There’s nothing to see. Nothing to feel. Just her. Alone. Looking forward and never backward to empty darkness.

And then there’s a light. It’s big and blinding. And fear spikes throughout her body even though she’s not sure why. She does not know what the flames are for.

The flames get closer and closer and closer. The surrond the small crystal box she’s in. And so, she screams.

----

Red daughter, they call her.

Or snowbird, for a lack of a better name.

But after a year of her solitude- or, at least, solitude surrounded by people that only spoke to her for a couple of second- Alex tells her her name is Kara.

That her life was taken by an impostor, and that he’ll help her get it back.

And if there’s a shadow behind Alex’s eyes that makes her schomach turn, she doesn’t mention it.

---

She’s flying, faster than she’s ever flown. She’s flying with a clear direction, closer and closer to her target.

She doesn’t really know what her target is until she sees the plane in front of her eyes. She quickly realizes something is wrong. The couple of planes she’d seen in the sky always flew flawlessly and at a constant speed but this one, this one moves through the air carelessly and speedily. There’s no direction, the plane only falls and falls, closer and closer to the city buildings.

She knows she has to save it. There’s people there. She knows it. But most importantly, her heart is telling someone even more important than all of them is there too.

She keeps on flying. Her limbs feel heavy. She feels disorientated. But she keeps on flying.

When her hands touch the base of the plane, there’s a small jump of exciment on her heart but then-

It’s like her hands run out of strength and the grip she had on the plane gives out and she watches as it goes down and down and down.

The plane hits a skycrapper in an explosion and she cannot move. She watches as the fires burn, the building falls, the few people still alive scream. And she doesn’t move.

Her heart is screaming for something, someone. She doesn’t know who.

The tears cover her face in and out of the dream.

---

Alex starts to show her the world.

“Again,” he says, “because Kara Danvers stole your life and memories from you.”

He shows her one city a day. She sees the children dying of hunger while rich men drown in their riches. She sees little towns burn because of big factories.

“So,” she starts, uncertain, “I am Kara Danvers?”

“Not yet. Once you kill her, you will be.”

She sees so many awful things in this world, she begins to understand why Alex is so full of hate. But the only thing keeping her from following him blindly is not his hatred, but his refusal to see the beauty, the love, the hope.

His face at the mention of the last word leaves a heavy weight on her heart.

---

She hears Christmas music.

She hates this one.

She’s standing in the middle of an empty street. She looks around, wondering which one will show up first this time.

The man in the black suit shows up first. He’s always wearing the same thing- a black piece of clothing that covers his entire body, with a symbol on his chest. She always gets a sense of deja-vu when she looks at it, but she never remembers what it means.

“I win,” he says. And even though she cannot see his face, all she sees is a blurry silluete where his face should be, she can tell there’s a smirk in his face anyway.

He punches her, making her lip burst out with blood. She falls to her knees.

When she opens her eyes again, a woman that looks like her is above her. Dirty blonde hair but blueish skin. Her voice always sounds distorted but she also says “I win.” before punching her too.

A red robot is next. He sends a wush of wind her way, making her fall to her knees. She sees someone’s shadow on the broken floor below her before she feels them kick her in her back- it makes her fly again, it’s another woman this time, one with a dark clothes and a mask covering her face.

Her punches hurt the most, they leave her gasping for air and wishing she’d finally wake up. And she does wake up, once they reach the top of a bulding and the other woman lets her drop.

She falls and falls and falls until she’s consious again and screaming in fear, waking up her guards.

---

Alex leaves her alone in a cute little apartment- her apartment. The one that was stolen from her by the impostor that looks just like her.

The apartment is nice. Homey. Just one big space divided into kitchen, dining room, living room and bedroom by the setup of the furniture and one big curtain. And it feels weird and painful that, when she walks around and touches what it’s supposed to be hers, she finds no familiarity in them.

She finds that sense of deja vu only twice; when she sees that picture in the fridge, the one of two women together- herself or the impostor, she’s not sure, and someone else. Brunette, short hair, kind smile. Alex.

Why does the impostor have an Alex? Was there always two Alexs? Which one is the real Alex? Which one is the real Kara? The real her? Is she the impostor?

There’s a thightness in her chest- it takes her a while to realize it’s just emptiness. Empty like her memories. Empty like the walls in her room. Empty like her heart. And there’s nothing to fill the hollowness in her except maybe wish, hope, pray that she is actually real and this impostor has stolen everything from her.

Except it doesn’t look like it. Except she’s only got Alex’s words to believe and she’s not sure how much of them believes anymore.

She feels nothing, absolutely nothing, as she walks around her own things. She guesses she should feel recognition, maybe a sense of deja vu or of belogning. But all she feels is nothing, only curiosity and anger at best. She could be anywhere, an apartment that isn’t hers, and feel the same. She doesn’t know if that’s good or bad.

But then. She sees it.

The portrait sits on the right bedside table. It’s modern, white background and small red hearts all over it. But it’s not that that catches her attention, it’s the picture in it.

The smile on her face- her impostor’s face- is so big, so happy, so excited. She didn’t even know she could smile that big. The blonde’s got her arms wrapped around someone else, a woman, who’s sutting comfortably atop her lap. She’s all dark hair and pale skin, she’s got one arm around her shoulders, pulling each other as close as possible.

Her smile is as big as her double’s and she’s the most beautiful woman she’s ever seen.

And that’s when she feels it. The pang. The ache.

Right in the middle of her heart. As if seeing this woman had suddenly pulled a thread, making her walk closer and closer and closer to the picture until she’s picking it up. Her fingers slowly tracing her face. The sharp line of her jawline, moving to her cheekbones and stopping as soon as her own eyes land on green ones.

It’s like they’re magnetic. Hypnotic, perhaps. And she wants more. More of those eyes and that face. She needs to see in more than a picture, she needs to find the woman because, if only a mere picture could cause such a reaction on her, then what will the real thing do?

She needs to find the woman. She needs to see her. She needs to find her name.

She does so in the pages of Kara Danver’s dairy. She finds it rather quickly. Pages and pages written about Lena. Over and over again. Only interrupted from time to time but other names like Cat, Brainy, Nia, Kelly, Alex. But Lena is the one that catches her attention the most, because every time she reads it, her heart jumps in a way it doesn’t do with anyone else.

And she knows, deep down part of her knows, this woman help her. Will fix her. Give her back her memories.

In the last pages of the diary, she finds a quote written by her (but which her? The impostor? Or herself, before she lost her memories?) on a ripped out magazine page that supports her own hunch.

Lena doesn't realize how much potential she has. I hope now at least the world will.

“Lena Luthor,” she whispers, wonder runs through her veins at the name.

And it’s enough. It’s all she needs. The name and a location.

It’s not long before she’s walking down the streets of National City, stolen glasses on her face and borrowed clothes on her body, moving through the sea of people as she heads to L-corp.

The people at the front door and desk do nothing to stop her nor ask her any questions. They just wave at her, all smiles and excited hellos. She knows they think she’s the other Kara, the one that knows what her place is here. But she is Kara, right? Or at least she was.

A part of her is thankful they do nothing to stop her, her journey to Lena easier than she thought it’d be as anyone that crossed her pointed her in the direction of the woman. While part of her is annoyed that her security is so lacking. What if she was an enemy? What if she was here to hurt Lena?

The rush of protectiveness is sudden, it creeped on her like Alex’s name had. It hadn’t been there and, suddenly, it was. And she couldn’t make it disappear. It only defeates once she sees Lena, safe and sound as she finishes talking to someone and walking into the elevator.

[glasswingowl]

scrapbook style layout of a few different uzi outfits (+ lighting practice i guess??)

[hsslilly-blog]

claire has a 2000s way of mimicking 50s fashion while blair has a 2010s way of dressing like the 60s. does this make sense

[tanunigans]

The ✨squad ✨

[hqresovrces]

*.:｡♦ ⋅ ⋆  — FELIX MALLARD GIF ICON UPDATE

by clicking here, you’ll be redirected to an additional 058 gifs of felix mallard added to her gif icon pack , now totaling 286 medium gifs.

[p0rk-guts]

im giving u a challenge, stick

draw ghost from cod 👹👹👹👹

or if not, martin blackwood because i love him :3

You get both bc ily! ^ v ^