#i wonder how effective the tags are at actually reaching people

[cloudycoraa]

Other version of robin art :D

Idk if the bright colours cooked or nah but we’ll see lmao

[bubble-dream-inc]

hii! i love ur fics!! can u write something about medical f/reader and her being scared of Ghost and can't look him in the eyes (he makes her really nervous and shy) and Ghost kinda find it amusing:))

an apple a day...

At first, Simon wasn't fazed by the rumors about the cute new head doctor on base; that is, until he realized the effect he had on you - and how fun was it to tease you with it.

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Medic Reader

rbs greatly appreciated!

WC: 1,4K

a/n: hi anon! thank you for this ask, i had a lot of fun writing this <3 bear in mind i used the little medical knowledge from my brief pharmacist student era and i actually have no idea how medical regs work in the army so take these inaccuracies with a grain of salt lmao. thank you my love @chaoskrakenuwu for the beta read <333333

tags: profanity, pure fluff, medical innacuracies, female reader, Simon is a smug little shit.

Ghost was many things, but amongst it all, he silently took pride in being good at reading people.

At first, he didn’t know exactly why he was doing it, and later he’d come to realize it was an amusing game for him, oddly enough, considering Simon Riley was never a man to bask in mundane pleasures.

It started with the rumors around the base about the allegedly cute new head doctor. Simon had been around these men for long enough to grow used to their touch deprived selves thirsting over literally any woman that came close to their general vicinity, so at first the talk didn’t stir his curiosity - it almost never did; he didn’t like to gossip. This changed one morning when he woke up with a killer headache, and unwillingly made way to the infirmary to try and get some painkillers. Gingerly knocking on the door and waiting for the approval of whoever was on the other side - which came in the form of a meek ‘come in’ - he had completely forgotten about the rumors going around until he set foot in the room and instantly came across the new head doctor.

They didn’t do it justice. You weren’t cute, you were a fucking spectacle.

He blinked, seemingly expressionless behind the mask, but he embarrassingly had to admit he might have let his gaze wander more than usual as you looked up from the papers you were looking over, clearly confused as to why you heard your door open but not a word out of the person who came in, and, as you did so, he recognized all the emotions people felt whenever they looked at him for the first time: confusion, shock - be it by his sheer absurd size or the mask - and, lastly, intimidation. It wasn’t unusual, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t bother a very hidden part of him, the fact he was intimidating such a small and seemingly harmless woman such as yourself. He had half a mind to speak first, but you beat him to it.

“Oh, uh…Hello, er, Lieutenant Ghost? How can I help you?” You clearly fiddled with your fingers as you stared at him with wide eyes, refusing to meet his gaze. Simon was slightly annoyed you already knew who he was - the whispers about him on base weren’t exactly positive, and he wondered what you might have heard.

“Yeah. Got one fuckin’ headache, I need some meds.” He was aware of how much more coarse his already gruff voice sounded, courtesy of the annoying pain and the sour mood he was already in, and took notice of the way the sound of it made your eyes widen even more. Clearing your throat, you mumbled something in agreement, heading to a cabinet near your desk, and he couldn’t help but watch you like a hawk - entranced by how you looked with the clearly frantic tied up hair and the white lab coat moving in tandem with your body. You looked so small compared to him and the thought made him more satisfied than he’d like to admit.

Finally reaching the drawer you were looking for, you searched it around for a bit until grabbing a small blister with four duo colored pills, hastily making your way over to Ghost and handing him the medication. You gave some instruction on how he should take it - once every six hours, if the pain didn’t go away, but not more than three a day - but he barely registered it, too caught up on watching you from above. Deciding to end your torture, he looked over at the blister on his hand and raised it slightly as if it were a toast.

“Cheers. Thanks, doc.”

With that, he left, not going unnoticed how surprised you were at his cordialness.

After that, he unconsciously made a habit out of it, popping into your office for the stupidest of reasons and he wasn’t even sure why; he’d find himself gravitating towards the infirmary, like a lost dog, to the point you updated his file with the recently known information that he had constant headaches - he didn’t. Simon took some sort of sick pleasure from watching you squirm under his gaze, never able to keep his eye contact for long, even more so when you heard his voice, and things took an interesting turn when he realized you probably weren’t intimidated - but flustered instead. It clicked with him one day as he entered your office in casual clothes before heading to the gym and you thought you were being subtle about the way you ogled his arms in the tight black shirt he was wearing. As he was leaving, he subconsciously turned to grip the doorway above him - not by much - to bid you goodbye, and he couldn’t help but to smirk under the mask when your eyes widened and your face visibly reddened at the motion.

So, he decided to test his theory. That day, he didn’t even need to fake a headache to go see you, he actually had gotten injured when helping out with some maintenance, a moment of recklessness giving him a cut on his hand. If it were another circumstance, he would just have taken care of it himself, considering how desensitized he was to pain these days, but for once he had a good reason to bother you, so that’s exactly what he did. Even if his presence made you so shy, this time you couldn’t help but look at him with worry as he entered the infirmary.

“Ghost, you really have to look into those headaches of yours.”

“Not my head this time.”

He showed you the bleeding cut on his hand, and almost chuckled at the way your eyes widened and you got into professional mode, hastily walking around to gather materials he knew all too well - gauze, iodine, all fun stuff. Simon was used to the sting of stitches, but they rarely felt as gentle as you did it, the way he relished on how close you were while fixing his hand, a focused flash in your eyes, not helping his case one bit, even if it was slightly disappointed how all of your shy nature disappeared the moment you had to be professional. He could appreciate how good you were at what you did, though.

Too soon for his liking, you were done, going around mumbling about a specific anti-inflammatory you were going to give him while he admired the neat work on his hand. Still sitting on the infirmary bed, he watched as you realized where the medication was, which just so happened to be on the tallest shelf of the medication cabinet. You sighed, grumbling about the reckless nurse that always messed with the placement of the medications, too caught up in trying to stand on your tiptoes to reach it that you missed Ghost moving right behind you, noticing only when his torso was inches away from your back and he had one hand gingerly touching your waist, the way you shivered not going unnoticed. He indulged in the way you stilled, turning to look at him with a surprised expression, and he almost chuckled at how adorable your eyes looked when wide like that, but, instead, he only looked down at you for a few moments before effortlessly getting the medicine box from the shelf - which was almost at his eye level - and handing it to you, putting minimal distance between your bodies. Mumbling a small ‘thanks’ you averted your eyes from him, visibly gulping while you quickly found the blister inside the box and handed it to him. However, even after taking it from your hands, he made no move to leave, keeping his stare at you while tilting his head lightly to the side.

“Do I make you flustered, Doc?”

You blinked, processing his words before opening and closing your mouth like a fish and looking to the side, breaking eye contact.

“…Yes. I knew you were doing it on purpose…” You mumbled, embarrassed, and he finally chuckled, not a bit ashamed that you caught him red handed.

He was never so glad to be able to read people so well as that day, when he went back to his room leaving behind a bashfully grinning you and the promise to take you out on a real date whenever you’d be free.

[annwrites]

exactly what he needs, pt. 3 ♡ ⋆｡˚ | pt1 | pt 2 | pt 4

— pairing: nate jacobs x fem!reader

— type: ficlet (multi-chapter)

— summary: nate takes you shopping at the mall, to dinner, then bowling, before dropping you off at home.

— tags: having a great day with nate, even if he has ulterior motives

— tw: dollification, objectification, sexualization, emotional manipulation, pushing boundaries, guilt-tripping, drinking, eating

— word count: approx. 6.4k

— a/n: i have never been inside a nordstrom in my life, so i have 0 idea what their changing rooms actually look like. | baby-doll dresses | tennis skirt | blush | necklace

GIF by msgorillagripcoochie

Once you and Nate are on the road, he decides to offer you full access to his car's stereo once again—he has an aux cord stored away in the center console, which he'll only offer if you can't figure out how to pair your phone through bluetooth.

There's just something about the idea of his truck being saved in your phone that appeals to him. Hell, maybe he'll get lucky and you'll fuck up, letting it read your calls and texts, too. He wouldn't mind finding out who all you're talking to.

If he's lucky, it'll be people he knows. People he can spin stories to you about to get you to cut them out of your life.

He'd made the mistake with Maddy in letting her have friends. Like Cassie—he didn't need to list the problems she'd caused. Then there was Kat, always her enabling little sidekick. Even Lexi to an extent, who he knows you're also friends with. He supposes as far as female friends to have goes, Lexi is the better one to keep company with, but she's still Cassie's sister.

He knows he'll, in time, need to figure out a way to get rid of her. But that's a problem for future him.

"Would you like to play some music?"

You smooth out the skirt of your dress. "Sure. Do you have a uh-"

"It has bluetooth."

"Oh."

Great, you think, I get to spend the next fifteen minutes looking like an idiot as I fight to get the thing to pair with my cell.

Surprisingly, however, you get it to sync up rather quickly. You scan through your music, now sweating, wondering what song to choose. What if he thinks your taste in music is stupid? Then, you mentally shrug. He can take over at that point if he thinks so.

Eventually, a soft melody begins to drift through the cabin, low enough that it serves simply as pleasant background noise, until Nate reaches over, turning the volume up, making you shrink back in your seat.

You turn the room a shade heaven, and learn my name.

You flush. You shouldn't have chosen a stupid romantic song. You should've chosen anything else.

You look out the window, refusing to sing along like you normally would as the chorus starts.

No one ever will love me better than your everlasting love. I found only one way in and no way out...

You fold your hands in your lap, waiting for the damn song to eventually end.

Finally, once the tempo has faded, Nate turns the radio down.

"Is that one of your favorite songs?"

You glance at him, nodding.

He can tell you're embarrassed, but can't understand why. He thinks it sweet: one of your favorite songs being one about love.

He then wonders if you sing. Perhaps, if so, you'll do so once you're more comfortable being around him like this.

"I liked it."

"Oh, good," you say, still flushed.

He likes how easily he has that effect on you.

"So, where are you wanting to head to?"

You shrug, fumbling with your phone and turning some lofi music on instead now. Nothing with lyrics.

"Wherever you want to go is fine with me."

He likes that: you letting him choose for you. Letting him make a decision for the both of you.

He enjoys how easily agreeable you are today.

He hopes it's due to you feeling comfortable enough with him that you trust him to do so.

"Do you want to eat first, or would you like to go to the mall for a bit?"

You glance at the clock and see that it's only a few minutes past four. "I can wait a couple more hours to eat."

He nods, heading in the direction of the East Highland mall.

Once Nate has parked, he comes around to your side and you nearly slip on the running board, falling against his chest.

He catches you, helping you down.

You look up at him, your face a shade of red. "Sorry. Thanks."

Stupid klutz—should've worn boots, you think.

He shuts the door behind you, quickly locking the vehicle before placing his hand against the small of your back. "No problem."

As you enter the mall, a pair of men leave, glancing at you. Admiring you, from Nate's perspective.

His grip tightens imperceptibly, pulling you the least bit closer to him as he gives the men a nasty look.

Meanwhile, you're oblivious, instead overwhelmed by the sights and sounds and smells, the awful florescent lighting overhead. God, you hate crowds.

You look up to him, just wanting him to pick a store to get you out of the way of everyone milling about. Coming here on a Friday afternoon was a bad idea.

He looks down at you. "Where to first?"

He can see that you're nervous. His brows furrow. "Do crowds make you uneasy?"

You nod, your eyes staring into his, practically screaming for him to get you out of here.

He lets his hand drop to his side, then speaks again. "Do you want to hold my hand?"

You blanch.

Having something—someone—to ground you and lead you through the throngs of people surrounding you sounds nice enough, but what if someone from school is here and sees you? And won't it seem a bit childish? That you're that easily overstimulated that you have to hold another grown-person's hand in a shopping mall?

Just as you're about to tell him no—that you're ok—someone bumps into you, shoving you into his side.

Your hand quickly latches onto his.

Nate twines his fingers between yours.

You don't see the smirk on his face.

Nate leads you into Nordstrom, a store you've never been in before because you know it's far, far out of your price-range, but you don't object as you step inside, the crowds behind you fading away as quiet pop music plays overhead, only a handful of people browsing the racks of clothing.

You look up to him, suddenly unsure of yourself.

"You can look around, if you want."

You release his hand and he already hates the feeling of his palm being empty.

You step over to a rack of midi dresses and your eyes widen when you see a price tag for $120.

Nate keeps close to your side. "Do you like that one?"

He knows he doesn't—hates midi and maxi dresses—but he wants to buy you something today. Anything. He just wants to give you your first real present from him.

He doesn't count him bringing you breakfast everyday for the last week—despite your objections, even if you did always finish it with a grateful 'thank you'—as as much.

You place the dress back where it was hanging, shaking your head. You look up to him. "That dress it over one-hundred dollars. Nate, I can't afford to shop here."

Not unless they have a clearance section, you think. But even then...

Nate steps away from you for a moment, his attention now stolen away by a white babydoll dress with puffy sleeves. Fucking perfect, he thinks.

He grabs it off the high hook which it hangs from—something you'd never be able to reach—and goes to hand it to you.

"Try this on."

You hesitantly take it from him, a confused expression on your face. "Why?"

He shrugs. "I just think it'd look nice on you."

You hold it up to yourself, not liking that it comes up well-above your knees.

"I don't thi-"

"The changing rooms are this way," he says, nodding his head in the direction of the back of the store. He doesn't care to hear you argue. You're trying the dress on. He needs to see it on you.

He'd been picturing you wearing—essentially—that exact dress for over a week now.

He places his palm against your back, leading you to the desired destination.

Once you've reached the back of the store, Nate opens a wooden door to one of the changing areas and just stares at you, waiting for you to enter.

Finally, you sigh, stepping in.

"I'll be waiting right out here," he says before closing the door behind you.

You stare at yourself in the mirror for a moment, realizing just how different—how little—you look like yourself right now. But you consider it, perhaps, a good thing: forcing yourself out of your comfort zone, even just a little.

You'd been considering finally wearing the sundress that Nate had picked out for you for a few weeks now. It was nice of him to compliment it—you. You aren't entirely sure how you feel about your hair being down, however.

Finally, you hang the dress up that he'd handed you, deciding to get undressed. The sooner you've tried it on, the sooner you can be out of this over-priced boutique.

Nate sits in a chair directly outside of your changing room, watching your legs shift from one foot to the other, until, finally, your sundress pools at your feet.

His cock hardens, knowing just a few feet away is your half-naked body. He leans back, waiting a minute, then two, then he stands.

He gently knocks on the door and you jolt in surprise.

"Y-yes?"

"Do you have it on?"

"Yes..."

"May I come in? I'd like to see."

You balk. He wants to come into the changing room with you? Is that even allowed?

"Isn't that against some sort of policy?"

He likes how much of a good girl you are—no, fuck it, loves it—but in this moment his patience is wearing real fucking thin. "No one else is out here," he replies as gently as he can.

A beat of silence, and then the lock on the door handle clicks.

He quickly enters the changing room, promptly taking in every inch of you.

You look just how he had imagined you would.

You don't meet his eyes. "I look so stu-"

"Perfect," he interrupts.

You look up to him. "What? Really?"

He studies you for a moment, your wide innocent eyes staring up at him, waiting for him to answer.

He runs his fingers through the hair draped over your shoulder. He then runs his hand along that same shoulder down your upper arm, where it comes to rest. "Yes. I just wish you could see what I do."

You blink up at him, then sniffle.

"Are you crying?" He nearly cringes. That question had come out a bit more harsh than he'd meant for it to. He'd wanted you emotionally vulnerable numerous times for the last week so he could finally find a way in, and now here it is. He prays he didn't just fuck it up.

You nod. "I'm sorry. I'm just...no one has ever been this nice to me."

He almost breathes a sigh of relief. He hadn't hurt your feelings.

So that's all it's going to take with you: a few kind gestures, some nice words, a few soft touches, and you'd be like putty in his hands. His to mold as he pleases.

This was what being alone for so long had done to you: made you desperate for affection—of any kind.

You step a bit closer to him, unsure of yourself, unsure what you're doing or even why.

When he doesn't move, you press yourself against his broad chest, taking him completely by surprise.

Fine with being alone his ass. That entire statement had been utter bullshit. Not even you understand just how lonely you are.

Finally, he wraps one arm around you, holding you close, his other hand slipping into your hair, massaging your scalp.

You remain quiet, just focusing on his breathing, the beat of his heart, his warmth. When was the last time someone had held you like this? Hugged you? Shown you any form of affection or attention?

You'd truly thought you were fine without it.

Meanwhile, Nate's head is racing. God, you'd shown him just in this action alone just how easy it was going to be to manipulate you. A couple of compliments had nearly brought you to tears? Just wait until the two of you are in a relationship. No, starting tonight he'll begin pouring it on heavier.

But once you two are together? He'll fucking suffocate you with gifts and attention and love. And above all: sex. That will be his weapon. You're inexperienced. Know nothing about it. A few orgasm denials and Lexi will be long-gone from your life.

Then he'll no longer have to worry about the risk of her relaying stories of he and Cassie, or he and Maddy to you. Won't have to worry about his occasional shitty behavior toward them coming to light, driving—no, taking—you away from him.

If you ever find out about the choking incident...it'll be over before it ever begins.

He feels you snuggle the least bit closer to him and he briefly glances to the mirror to the side of both of you. He sees that your eyes are closed and your cheeks are flushed.

Finally, he pulls away and you look up at him, shame filling your features. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I-"

He gently grips your chin. "I didn't mind."

"Oh." It's the only reply you have. It feels inappropriate—being here with him like this. You're in a changing room together, for God's sake. You'd tutored numerous people before and never had you ever spent any amount of time with any of them outside of school.

But Nate is different. You tutor him in private, whereas all the rest had been at school or in public. There'd never been a chance at friendship with any of them. You'd convinced yourself that it was something you didn't need in the first place anyway. Told yourself you were better off alone.

High school is temporary, along with the friends that come with it. No point in getting attached to someone who won't be sticking around.

You know all too well about abandonment.

Nate will probably be just like all the rest.

You take a step back. "I should probably change."

"I never got to see the whole dress. Can you turn for me?"

You pause. "Like... Twirl?"

He crosses his arms, just staring at you.

Finally, you begin to slowly turn until you're facing him once again. "Ta-da,"you say nervously.

He turns toward the door, placing his hand over the handle. "It looks really cute on you, just so you know."

While you're busy changing, Nate quickly returns to the rack from earlier, grabbing the same dress you were currently taking off, along with another one, but in light blue. He then spots a pink tennis skirt and grabs it as well, with a matching flowy top. He takes all the items up front, to a register.

When you exit the changing room, you see Nate straight ahead, standing just outside the store.

You come up to him, glancing down to the shopping bag in his hand, then up to him with a concerned expression. Surely he didn't...

He shrugs. "Just something for my mom."

You smile, feeling relieved. "That's very sweet of you, to get something for her."

He just offers you his hand again, which you take after a moment.

As the two of you wander around, mostly window-shopping, you try to ignore just how nice it feels to be holding someone else's hand. To be touched at all. You briefly wonder if he thinks you pathetic now, after what happened in the changing room.

You glance up to him. "Nate?"

"Hm?"

"You're sure it didn't bother you?"

He doesn't need you to elaborate to know what you're referring to. He likes that you're insecure and emotionally fragile. Broken pieces in the palms of his hands.

That had been another issue with Maddy—she'd been too independent, too confident, too secure and comfortable with herself. Whereas Cassie had known what he wanted and had tried to mold herself into it, all in some attempt to keep him interested.

But you? You're clueless to the ways of men. You're just...you. Intelligent, but only in a book-smart sort of way. Sweet—so fucking sweet it makes his teeth ache. Quiet, and reserved—prim and proper and meek.

And he'd thought it before and would again—so. fucking. innocent. You have no idea the power you already have over him. And he wants it to stay that way. Wants to be the one in complete control this time around, without being given permission to be, like Cassie had given him.

She'd told him what she had wanted: him to choose her clothes, what she eats, to decide who she could talk to—the list went on and on. Because she had clocked him from day one—the type of guy he was—that he was desperate for control.

With you, it will be gradual, insidious manipulation until he's all you have left in your life to turn to. Until, one day, you look up, and everything is different and you have no goddamn idea how you've gotten to where you are.

He stops walking, still keeping your hand firmly in his, incase you decide to wander. "Not at all."

"I don't..." you shift nervously. "I don't know what happened. I'm not usually like that. I don't get emotional in front of other people, like, ever."

He gives you a kind smile. "It's ok, really. I just don't think you're used to it."

"What?"

"Kindness. Someone wanting to give you their attention and time. You don't have to worry, I still like hanging out with you."

You look down and he gives your hand a gentle squeeze.

"Good," you reply.

The two of you stop in at Sephora, and while you browse their lipglosses, Nate steps away, looking through their selection of blushes, until he finds a soft pink shade that he likes and he takes it up, quickly paying for it, and placing the small bag within the larger Nordstrom one. One more gift for you.

When you leave the cosmetic store, you excuse yourself to the restroom, and he goes into the Tiffany store next door, browsing their necklace collection, until he spots one that he deems perfect for you: silver, with a small diamond pendant hanging from it. He doesn't even bother looking at the price tag when he asks an employee to retrieve the item from a glass case and box it up for him.

He's waiting for you when you exit the restroom.

He takes your hand in his, not bothering to let you make the gesture this time.

"Hungry?"

You nod.

Nate, though he doesn't want to, bothers with asking where you'd like to go to eat as he watches you buckle yourself in—wishing you'd let him do that himself, but knows him taking such an extreme measure for your safety this early will do nothing more than freak you out.

You shrug. "I don't go out much, so I'm not sure what all is around here. You can choose, if you'd like?"

He smiles, unsure the last time he felt so happy and in-control as he shuts your door.

Nate takes you to a rather expensive bistro, perhaps twenty minutes away from the mall, his right hand itching to wedge itself between your bare thighs as he drives, but he doesn't dare touch you. Not yet. The only thing he has to keep himself in-check right now is the surety that, soon enough, you'll be all his to do with as he pleases.

Every inch of you.

When Nate comes around to your side of the truck, after he's opened your door, he takes things a step further this time, gripping both of your hips, helping you down. As he sets you on your feet again, before you can say a word, he speaks. "Didn't want to risk you tripping again."

He adjusts your dress and your hair, then takes your hand firmly in his as he leads the two of you inside.

You immediately feel regret in him bringing you here. You should've told him literally anywhere else, so long as it was cheaper.

The rustic décor alone screams pretentious. And you know the menu will be even worse.

But just as you think to tug on his arm and ask him to take you elsewhere, a hostess greets the two of you, leading you to a table in a corner near a window.

Nate pulls out your seat for you, scooting you in, then seating himself.

You both pick up menus, and you're thankful your face is hidden by yours when you see the outrageous pricing.

You can barely afford a small salad here.

"Have you been here before?" You ask, still hidden by your menu.

"Mhm, their food is pretty good. I thought you might like it."

Unless it's dipped in gold, it can't be worth what they're charging is what you want to say. Instead, you remain silent.

Finally, your server arrives. An older woman, with red curly hair, freckles, and a curvaceous figure greets the two of you with a smile. "Do you two know what you'd like to drink?"

Nate looks at you.

"Water, thank you."

She nods.

"It'll be one check, and a diet coke."

She nods again, leaving the two of you to each other.

You look at him, now panicking...just a bit. "You don't have to pay for me. It's fine, really, I-"

He lifts his menu, glad that it apparently works in getting you to be quiet about his spending money on you. Again.

You'd already freaked out enough over him bringing you breakfast for three days in a row, until the fourth when you finally ate in silence.

"I told you I was taking you to dinner. It was my idea to bring you here, so it's only fair that I pay."

You cross your legs at the ankle, unsure how to feel about that.

You simply lift your menu again, now even more unsure of what to get.

He sets his menu down, seeing that you're now hidden behind your own once again. "I know their choices can seem a bit overwhelming the first time you come here. Would you like me to order for you?"

You lower your menu. "You're sure?"

He gives a slight nod of confirmation.

It's then that your waitress returns with your drinks and you stay silent, sipping on ice water as Nate orders dinner for both of you.

As you wait for your penne alla vodka—all you know is that it's some sort of pasta—Nate stretches out his long legs under the table on either side of your chair.

"I've had a really nice time with you today," he says, a soft look in his eyes.

You wrap your sweaty hands around your cold glass. You smile. "Me too."

He crooks his head slightly to the side. "Would you like to go bowling after this?"

Your brows raise. "You want to?"

He nods. "I do if you do."

You glance out the window for a moment. "I'm not sure the last time I went bowling. I think when I was really little."

He leans forward, foot brushing against one of yours completely on purpose, so as to pull your attention back to him. "So is that a yes?"

You blush. "I guess so."

Nate glances up to you every few moments from his steak and rice, watching as you take small bites of your pasta.

"Do you like it?"

You quickly grab your napkin, wiping your lips. You nod, swallowing. "It's really good. You chose well for me. Thank you."

He smiles, his foot "accidentally" brushing against your leg again. "You're welcome, sweetheart."

You grow quiet again at the pet name, taking another bite of your meal.

Once the two of you have finished your dinner, Nate pays the check from his phone before standing, throwing two twenty-dollar bills on the table—you're impressed that he tips so generously—then pulling your chair out for you.

He twines his fingers between yours before leading you back out to the truck.

Once Nate has paid for a game of bowling for the two of you, you both go to your designated spot. You sit to put on the pair of hideous bowling shoes you've been given, until Nate sits on the small table in front of you, grabbing your foot and resting it atop his knee as he slips the shoe on your foot, tying the laces.

You laugh nervously. "I can do that."

He merely glances up to you, before doing the same with your other foot.

Once you feel well and truly like you have on a pair of clown shoes, you go first...and miss every single pin.

Nate stands behind you laughing. "It was a good try."

He'd not actually bothered watching you play, he'd instead watched as you'd bended over slightly, getting a brief flash of your pink panties before you released the heavy bowling ball.

You go to sit down. "Shut up," you say, clearly embarrassed.

Nate goes next...and of course gets a strike on the first try.

You tell yourself not to pout; that you're not a competitive person by nature.

"I'm just rusty is all."

"Mhm," he replies with a knowing smirk before leaning down, hands planted on either side of you. "I'm going to get a drink. Want anything?"

You glance behind you at the concessions, looking over their menu. Meanwhile, Nate looks you over. Your neck, which he wants to lick and kiss and leave hickies all over to mark you as his. Then down your dress at the swell of your breasts...which he wants to do the same to. Then your thighs that he wants to shove his face between.

When you finally look back at him, you jump, seeing that he's still looking right at you. "Oh, uh, maybe just a water?"

He reaches up, brushing some hair out of your face. "Not hungry?"

You shake your head. "I'm still full from dinner."

Right. Dinner.

"I thought at least some cotton candy," he replies, before walking away.

You're left sitting there, wondering what that was supposed to have meant.

When Nate returns, it's with two Budweisers and a bottle of water, which he hands to you.

You stare at the extra bottle he sets on the table as he twists the top off of the other one, taking a swig of it.

"Is that smart?"

He looks at you with a raised brow. "Hm?"

"Drinking...since you're driving?"

He smirks. "It takes a lot more than two beers to get me drunk, Y/N. But if it makes you that uncomfortable, you can always drive us back."

He's not sure how he feels about letting you drive his truck, in truth. He'd never let Maddy, and sure as hell not Cassie behind the wheel. He was more-so offering to see if you'd let on whether you know how to drive or not.

And he gets his answer, just like he was wanting.

"I...I don't know how."

He sits on the same table from earlier, your legs between both of his knees.

"Not at all?"

You shake your head, feeling a bit ashamed of the admittance. "No one has ever exactly been around to teach me."

You're no longer looking at him now, so you don't see the frown on his lips.

"I could teach you."

Your head jerks up. "That's probably not a good idea."

He takes another sip of his beer. "Why not?"

"What if...what if I hit something with your truck, or damage it?"

"I have insurance."

You nearly roll your eyes. "Ok, what if I hit a person?"

He notices your lip twitch, trying to fight a smile.

He grins. "It has a big bed."

You laugh and so does he. God, being with you is so easy.

He holds out the bottle to you. "Do you want a drink?"

You consider it for a moment, then of course shake your head. "No, thank you."

"Have you ever even drank before?"

You don't want to give him the answer to that either. "No."

"Really?" He asks, a bit of surprise to his tone—even if he isn't actually surprised at all. If it's 'bad' for you, he's sure you've never done it before.

You nod, feeling like a total fucking square. "How did they even give it to you in the first place?"

He stands, briefly removing his wallet from his back pocket and he hands you his fake ID.

"Oh."

"I can get you one made, if you want?"

You shake your head, handing it back to him. "I'm ok."

He likes you innocent and unknowing, but he isn't used to someone being so...within the lines. He can't tell whether he wants to corrupt you or not. Perhaps he'll just start with doing so in bed and go from there when the time comes.

Once he has you daydreaming about his cock, he'll move onto bigger targets.

He puts his wallet back away, then jerks his head back toward the bowling alley. "Your turn, sweetheart."

Halfway through the game, you get your first strike and you squeal in delight, causing a smile to breakout across Nate's face.

You jump up and down, then run toward him and he catches you in his arms just in time as you wrap your legs around his waist, only spilling a little of his beer. "I did it!"

He laughs, loving seeing you so fucking happy for just one moment.

"I see that, baby."

You're so pleased with yourself that you barely even catch the new term-of-endearment he's given you.

You look down at him, your hair falling over his face as he looks up at you. "Sorry, that was exciting," you say with a laugh.

One arm firmly holds you up, under you bottom, while the other comes up to cup your cheek. "I like seeing you happy like this. You don't smile nearly enough."

He should really make more of an effort to get you drunk before the two of you leave. He has a feeling you're a happy one, and if he's extra lucky—all the alcohol will go straight between your legs.

You beam at him again, trying to prove him wrong, and all he wants is to kiss you until you can't breathe.

Finally, he lowers you back to your feet and you sit, now excited, as he takes his turn again.

You skip through the parking lot, your hand in his, completely elated at having won.

And to your knowledge, it was fair and square.

Even if Nate knows otherwise.

He'd offered to buy another game, but you'd told him you were starting to get tired, so he'd agreed to take you home, even if he wanted to stay out with you all night. Preferably in the back seat of his truck with your clothes off and lying underneath him as he explores your soft, sensitive body.

Instead, you sit in the passenger seat, all smiles and giggles as he drives you back home.

He's in enough of a good mood himself that he turns up the radio, some song with thumping bass coming through the speakers, as he rolls the windows down, the warm summer night air blowing your hair.

Nate, now actually nervous—afraid he's about to ruin everything—reaches over, resting his palm over your bare knee.

You don't push it away. Instead, you simply glance at it for a moment, feeling something...something you're not sure how to describe at the sight of him touching you like that, and then lean back, content to leave his hand right where it is.

And so he does. The entire drive back to your place.

It doesn't matter how desperately he wants to, he doesn't move it any higher.

Once he's pulled into your driveway, he removes his hand, your leg now feeling cold, and kills the engine. You unbuckle yourself and turn toward him. "I know we said it earlier, but I had a really nice time tonight. Thank you, for dinner and bowling and just...today."

He reaches up, running his fingers through your now-tangled hair. "It was my pleasure. Maybe we can do it again sometime?"

You nod, smiling. "I'd like that."

He wants to lean across the console and kiss you, but once again tells himself no. Something he's quickly tiring of having to do.

He glances out the windshield. "I'll walk you to the door."

He retrieves the Nordstrom bag from the backseat before coming around to your side, holding it behind his back as he offers you his hand to help you down.

Nate walks you to your door, watching as you unlock it. He wishes you'd just come back to his house instead, but doesn't dare suggest as much. He'd rather you sleep in his bed with him than stay in this empty house where you're not safe on your own.

Even if he'd made sure you were a couple night this last week when he parked across the street, a couple houses down, pistol in his glovebox. Just incase.

You look up to him with a shy smile. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," he replies, handing you the shopping bag.

Your brows furrow. "I thought this was for your mom?"

He shrugs. "I lied. I wanted to buy you something all day, but knew if I asked, you'd tell me no. This way was easier."

You're not sure how to feel about the fact he'd lied to you so easily. Had made—most likely, if the brand-name on the bag is any indication—a rather expensive purchase for you. You're just not sure why.

Before you can bother asking, he plants a quick kiss to the top of your head. "Hope you like it," he says before heading back to his truck.

Once you're inside and in your room, you immediately start pulling out the contents from the bag and setting them on your bed. Your heartrate only rises with each item. A small bag from Sephora, another one from Tiffany, and four clothing items from Nordstrom—one being the dress he'd asked you to try on.

You feel lightheaded at the price tags on the clothing. But when you look in the Tiffany bag—pull out the jewelry box and open it, you sit down on the edge of your bed.

A diamond necklace.

"Nate..." you whisper to yourself in a panicked voice, wondering what had gotten into him to think that this is ok.

Surely...surely this item is meant for his mom. He'd just accidently thrown it in with everything else.

You pick up your phone with shaking hands, drop it, then pick it back up once again and call him.

"Hey, everything okay? I'm not too far away. I can turn back arou-"

You shake your head, despite the fact he can't see it. "The...the necklace for your mom, you accidentally put it in with-"

"I didn't get it for my mom. Everything there was purchased for you."

You go quiet suddenly, forcing Nate to check that you're even still on the line. He waits for you to respond.

"Nate, I don't know that I feel comfortable with this."

He slams on the brakes, pulling off to the side of the road, throwing the truck in park. "With what?"

"It...it'd be one thing if you'd bought me some cheap keychain or t-shirt or something. But all of this...do I even want to know how much this necklace costs?"

"Probably not," he replies, nonchalantly. Even if he wants to tell you that it was over a grand.

You hang your head, pinching the bridge of your nose. "You don't need to buy me stuff to try and repay me for tutoring you. I do it for free because I like helping people."

"I didn't do it for that."

"Then why?"

How to say, without alarming you: it makes my dick hard spoiling and spending obscene amounts of money on you?

"I just wanted to give you a few nice things. That's all."

"Nate, I don't-"

"Listen, do you want to repay me?"

You go quiet again. Meanwhile, he wants to say, if you say yes: then do it in sexual favors, starting with letting me wrap you hair around my fist as I face-fuck you.

"How?"

"Enjoy it. Wear the white dress and necklace to school on Monday." He wants to throw in the blush, but doesn't, hoping you'll decide to use that all on your own.

You lay back on your bed. "It's all very nice and pretty, and I appreciate it immensely. But-"

"Do you want me to turn around and come get it?" His tone is now the slightest bit annoyed. "If you don't like it, you can tell me. You're not going to hurt my feelings. I'm sorry, I guess I fucked up."

You feel guilty now somehow. Like you're being ungrateful. Even if you hadn't asked for any of it. Maybe...maybe this is what Nate thinks you have to do to make friends: buy their affection?

When you grow up wealthy like he has, you reason, it makes sense.

"No, I'm sorry." Your voice is soft and gentle and feminine now, and he relaxes, his grip on his phone loosening.

You don't even realize it, but his sudden shift in mood had been so imperceptible that it had scared you.

All you do know is that you somehow feel wrong, but you're not sure how, exactly. So, you just brush it off and blame it on being tired. Blame it on anything but him.

"I'm just...I'm not used to people buying me gifts. It's very sweet of you. Thank you," you say as you lightly run your fingers over the soft material of the white dress he wants you to wear in a couple of days.

"You're welcome, sweetheart."

You're not sure how to feel about the pet names, either, but don't want to hurt his feelings again, so you ignore your discomfort.

"I'm going to go take a shower and throw my new clothes in the washer. Be safe driving home. Goodnight...again," you say it with a small laugh.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Can I request a Hunter x female Y/N comfort/whump paternal fic plz? <3

Btw I loved your Crosshair x Y/N fic <3

Knight in Rusty Armor

Hunter x Reader

Summary- After a bad run-in at a market, Hunter has to save you and Omega. You can't help but feel like a failure for not being able to protect Omega by yourself...

A/N- Thank you so much for requesting! I'm not completely confident in my ability to write Hunter, but I tried my best!! Hope this is what you had in mind, XoXo.

Word Count- 2,118

You could feel his gaze on you from a mile away. It seemed that no matter the circumstance, Hunter was there.

While you were grateful for him, always- you couldn't help but feel like he didn't trust you. Well, maybe trust wasn't the right word. Nevertheless, he had to accompany you and Omega for a trip to the market.

Everyone had been flying for days and needed a place to resupply. Stretch their legs. You offered to take Omega to shop for some new clothes. She had rips in her shirt- ones that were barely held together by your sewing. So it seemed natural that you would take her, being the only other female on the ship.

Even before landing, you brought up the idea of you and Omega going to Hunter. You wanted to spend some time with her alone. One might have even said mother and daughter bonding...

He turned you down immediately. Rightfully so, as it was a foreign place. But you still wanted to compromise.

That's where you were now, looking through bounds of outfits. Varied from dresses, pants, jackets, and finally shirts. Hunter kept his distance. He did understand that Omega needed some 'girl time' with you, as Tech called it. He also understood that you two were the most important people to him, and he wanted to protect you at all cost.

When you and Omega stepped into an actual establishment for children's clothes, Hunter stood outside the door. Close enough that he could hear Omega laughing.

She picked through a rack, showing you the shirts she thought looked silly. The two of you got a couple odd looks, but neither of you cared.

A particular neon-green tube top grabbed her attention. She picked it up and joked that she wanted it.

"Yeah, very stealthy Omega." You said, playfully.

She giggled and put the shirt back. The two of you proceeded to go to the cashier with the 3 other shirts you found. Ones that fit her and were darker tones.

You immediately noticed that the owner of the store had a sour look on his face. This resulted in you putting on an cheery attitude, being extra kind.

"Ten credits." The yellow man stated, ignoring your pleasantries.

"T-ten?" You sputtered out, shocked. The tags on the clothes clearly stated 'one credit each.'

"Three for the clothes, and seven for the ones you insulted. Now an additional two for arguing with me." Since when was asking a question arguing.

Omega looked up at you, wondering what you would do next. You didn't have Ten credits on you, though you knew Hunter would let you tap into his personal stash if you asked. In this matter however, three shirts were not worth ten credits.

"Sir, i'm sorry about the comments. But we meant no harm. I can give you three credits for the shirts, as they are priced. No more." You reasoned with the man, knowing how bad Omega needed new clothes.

"You are not leaving this store until I get fifteen credits from you." He grumbled and reached for his blaster.

"Excuse me?" You were taken aback. Who did he think he was? Your own blaster was already raised.

"We don't have fifteen credits, and will be leaving now." You said, dropping the clothes. You were frustrated that the day had turned bad.

"Then she can work them off." He shoved his blaster to Omegas temple. Omega had left her energy bow back at the ship, and her borrowed blaster was on the side of her leg.

"We really don't have time for this, sir." You said before effectively disarming him. Your own blaster shot right past his shoulder, missing on purpose. It distracted him long enough for you to knock his blaster out of his own hand. Omega reached down to grab it- both guns now pointing at him.

It was as simple as it seemed, the guy was inexperienced. What the two of you didn't anticipate was Hunters call.

After rushing outside, the building was surrounded by men that looked like the store owner. Yellow with three horns on their ugly face.

What you would find out later was that the store owner had a bad temper, and went ahead to call for back-up. He was determined to make you all pay. Insanely petty if you could say so yourself.

Nevertheless, firing commenced. Again, it was easy. Even though they had numbers, they didn't possess the same skill as the three of you. Maybe that's why you got cocky?

Maybe that's why you found yourself with a blaster pointed at the back of your neck. The store owner! How did you forget him, you and Omega had rushed out without a second thought.

"This time, disarming me won't be so easy." You felt his breath on your ear, disgusting.

"Put the blaster down. Now." Hunter commanded. If you had your thoughts straight, it would have been really sexy.

"I don't think I will. I want 100 credits. For my time, and having to deal with these ratchet things you call humans!" The man insulted.

You smirked, "Not a wise decision." You remarked. Now it was personal- Hunter did not take insults to his girls lightly.

"Yeah, and what do you know? You're the one with a blaster poi-" He was interrupted by Hunter shooting him. Hunter wasn't as forgiving as you. The man fell, you didn't even look to see if he was alive.

With a puff Hunter started, "Let's get back."

"Are you okay!" Omega jumped to your side, calling your name.

Her voice sent a pang down from your spine to your stomach. She shouldn't be worried about you... She should feel safe and protected. All she saw was you getting risky and dumb. Now she thought she had to worry about you... You felt shame rush to your cheeks in a pink hue.

This Hunter took notice of, he was confused. There was nothing to be embarrassed about? At least he didn't think so.

The walk back to the ship was mostly silent, except for Hunter confirming we would try another market soon.

You kept your head up, now being over-cautious, hand hovering your blaster. That was until Hunter took your hand in his. He smiled at you. He could feel the tension off your body. He'd ask about it the second you got some alone time.

You looked at him and swallowed. You only felt more guilt. How was he so collected but ready to engage in combat at any moment. All of it just made you more insecure, what did you bring to the table?

Your thoughts were interrupted by Omega, pulling on Hunters free hand.

"Hunter! Can I pleeeeease get some!" She gestured to a bag of sweets for sale. A mix of fruity candy, lolli-pops, and chewing gum.

"I don't know Omega." He started, but after seeing her face fall he followed it with- "Okay, but you'll have to share it with Wrecker."

She jumped up, hugging onto his arm. "Thank you! You're the best dad ever!" She giddily said, snatching the credit he held out for her.

His face brightened up, it was his turn to wear a light pink hue. Omega didn't even seem to realize what she said, but you gripped Hunters hand tighter.

"Dad... I like it." You leaned onto him, resting a head on his shoulder. Your arm now fully wrapped around his.

"She probably didn't even mean to say it..." He doubted, not wanting to think anything that wasn't mutual.

"Don't sell yourself short, Hunter." You said, not looking up at him, but rubbing your cheek on the material of his shirt.

Omega bopped back over and the three of you headed back to the ship.

Sleep escaped you, tossing and turning. The thoughts of the market kept you awake. This was not normal. You had all been in crappy situations like that one, why did it affect you so much?

Having Hunter save you wasn't something you resented, it was quite attractive. Just this instance. You had been so careless... You could have put an end to it all, but forgot to immobilize the main threat. You huffed and puffed, trying to get out your frustrations.

You were so lost in thought, that when Hunter placed a concerned hand on your shoulder- you jumped. He pulled away instantly, thinking he might have hurt you in some way.

"W-what?" You asked, squinting up at him. It seemed that no one else was awake, Hunter being the only one on watch.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong, sweets?" He asked, hearing his nickname for you was enough to calm you down. At least, enough to get up and settle in one of the cock-pit seats.

You took a deep breath and sat up. He steadied you, an arm wrapping under your armpit to hold you.

"Just can't sleep." He knew there was more to the story. That was a big part about why you loved him. He was more than attentive, and the most selfless lover you could ask for.

"Come sit with me." He suggested, pulling you up with him as he stood to his feet.

He still had a hand rested on the small of your back as he led the two of you to the cockpit,

"So, what happened at the market?" You looked down, shame flooded out of you. Seemingly for no reason. You opted to sit down before answering.

"I let Omega down... There's nothing else to it. It was obvious." You almost felt angry that he didn't see the situation as you did.

His face scrunched up, eyes burning at you. He blinked several times before replying- "What are you talking about?"

With a groan you spoke again, "I can't even protect her from an angry, stupid, vender! You had to save us!" Your voice cracked at the end.

"I thought you didn't mind wh-" You cut him off

"I don't, I just-" You grumbled, frustrated that you couldn't find the right words.

"It's okay, you didn't let anyone down. Everyone is safe, it was just a small mishap." He reasoned, hating that you felt anything less than perfect. If only you saw yourself as he saw you.

You took a quick breath, "One day it won't be a 'small mishap' and something might happen to Omega. I was careless! Now she knows I can't protect her. I'm supposed to be the person she can run to... She must be so disappointed."

You let your head fall into your hands. You rested there for a moment, that was until Hunter made his way in front of you. He gently grasped your hands in his.

He lifted one of your hands to rest on his cheek- the tattooed one. You moved your thumb across the black lines.

"Omega thinks the world of you... nothing will change that. Who knows what would have happened if I wasn't there. If I hadn't called you out, you would have been able to think on what to do with the owner, right?" He explained, trying to shift some of the blame to himself.

You nodded at his words. At this he brings his free hand to rest on your cheek, matching yours on his. His words made you feel some relief, but you couldn't deny how you still felt guilty. Guilty that Omega may have thought differently now.

"Thank you..." You sniffled out, his words making your eyes water.

You leaned in for a kiss, only to be interrupted by a rustling.

Omega. Her light voice called your name, just before jumping onto you and Hunter. He held her steady as she fell into your arms.

"Today was so fun... I'm not disappointed!" You gasped slightly at her words, "You heard all that?" You had a worried look on your face.

"You guys are my family. I'll always feel protected with you." She leans into your arms, head resting just under your shoulder.

"I don't care about the mean guy, I had the best day ever... Can we visit the next market we find as well?" She said, excited, looking up into your eyes.

How could you say no to her sweet face?

"I think Hunter, Wrecker, Tech, and Echo should come too. Maybe they will have as much fun as we did shopping!" You and Hunter both laughed at this.

"i'm not so sure shopping is Tech's thing." Hunter joked.

You laughed again, wiping off the last tear on your face. Your anxieties had finally died down.

Hours later, Hunter would find you both asleep in the pilots chair- Omega rested snugged in your arms. That is, with evidence of the last candy all over Omega.

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I didn't have a strong vision for this one, but I told myself I had to finish it before starting another. I also went off of some Star Wars article saying that 1 Credit is equal to 5 USD. Sorry if I got that wrong! As always, I am open to constructive criticism!

Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

ℍ𝕠𝕨 𝕋𝕠: Notice [TEASER]

Jungkook knows the effect he has on people. So why won't you look at him the same?

Main Tags/Warnings: Model!Jungkook, Actor!Jungkook, Stylist!Reader, strangers/enemies to lovers, mentions of toxic beauty standards

Length: ???

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

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You shrug. "He looks the same in every photo to me." You tell Haru, who looks at you a bit lost.

He sighs as he clicks through the photos himself, unsure. You know he knows you're right- but at the end of the day, people like those sultry eyes and that cocky expression that man makes in every picture. You're not sure what exactly makes it so appealing- but you're just here to make him look as good as possible. And his hair looks perfect in almost every shot- so that's good enough for you.

That's your job. Nothing more, nothing less.

"It's his signature look." Haru tries to justify, his soft voice unsure, however, as if he needs to tell it mostly to himself to be convinced of it. He's never been a fan of shootings like these- he's good at them, sure, but he doesn't enjoy shooting those pictures. He's too soft to say it, but you know he finds them boring and uninteresting. It's basics, nothing exciting, nothing new. But he's being paid for this- so he doesn't complain.

That's his job- nothing more, nothing less.

"Well, then his signature look is boring." You say, leaning back against the table behind you, sipping your can of sugary caffeinated soda- the energy drink by now the only thing keeping you somewhat concentrated. Hopefully Jungkook stops complaining so much so you can all go home soon- he's got the whole week anyways, so why is he so whiny?

Brat. It's only the first day and he's already getting on your nerves- acting like someone pissed in his breakfast, rolling his eyes and staring people down just for the fun of it. And women actually fuck that guy?

He probably does it in front of a mirror just to watch himself.

"Boring, huh." Jungkook's voice chimes up, and you spot him walking closer, now wearing a new set of clothes. The leather pants look awfully tight, especially in his private region- that can't be comfortable, can it?

You frown at him. He got his hair all chaotic again- but it's fine. It fits the theme. You won't retouch it for now.

"She didn't mean it like that-" Haru instantly tries to defend you, the young man intimidated by the model as always. You wonder how he can even operate the camera when he constantly shies away from him so much. Maybe when he looks at him through the lens he can detach the person from the picture? It would make sense. After all, you do the same.

You don't see Jungkook. You see Jeon Jungkook, brand ambassador and model- and it should stay that way.

"I did." You disagree with him, however, before you look back at Jungkook. You don't need to be protected- not for your own opinion. It doesn't have any weight anyway, you doubt that someone like you can hurt this man's ego either. It's at least as big as himself, if not taller, which is a lot, considering that he towers over you despite not even reaching the standard 1.80m height usually desired. Then again, there's quite a few things you could count as not being the standard of beauty. But he makes up for it in confidence- even if he seems to have a little too much of it for your taste. "I did mean it like that."

"What am I supposed to do instead then?" Jungkook challenges, crossing his arms next to you.

The hell were you supposed to tell him? You're neither a model, nor very fashionable. He should ask Lea about that, not you. He's trying to argue for no good reason, and that attitude is starting to piss you off.

"Nothing. It's good like that." You shrug, keeping your cool for now at least visually.

"You said it's boring." He bites back almost immediately. Your distaste grows.

"I did, because to me, it is." You respond calmly. Is he trying to pick a fight with you right now? He really is acting like a child beneath all that fake politeness and forced friendly tone he puts on. "But that's my personal opinion. I'm sure people will like those pictures despite that." You explain.

He's opening his mouth to say something, before he moves when the director claps, and tells everyone to get back to their respective spots-

He plays around with his piercings, and gives you that odd look that you can't distinguish from hatred or being offended.

Unbeknownst to you, he's been trying to figure you out for the entire shoot- wondering what you're really like. Do you like softer guys like Haru more? You seem to have some edge to you, if the glimpse of your bellybutton piercing and the few lines of a tattoo poking out the waistband of your pants would be anything to go by. Maybe you're just someone who likes to be in charge.

He can't offer that, at least not sexually.

Jungkook sitting in front of the camera once more, woth the same signature look, because that is his job.

Nothing more, nothing less.

[randomwritingsnips]

"What are you talking about?" Grandmamah seemed taken aback.

"Nerissa never had a daughter!"

In the moment, Agatha froze, a chill running through her tentacles and possibilities began to aline.

She had felled the Queen, hadn't she? She had slain Nerissa, but then how would she have…

"I did it!" Ruby exclaimed in joy as she seam back to Chelseas' side, landing as she opened up her hand, showing the Trident of Oceanus, a smile spreading across her face.

Chelsea moved closer, staring at the Trident in awe and wonder.

"Mothers' Trident…" Chelsea muttered in awe, her eyes appearing to redden as she thought back what little memories she had of that Day.

Hidden away at her mothers' side, hidden within an Egg, nearly ready to burst open. She had seen it all. The Battle, the turn, her fall…

"I never thought that I'd really see it…" The Mermaid muttered as she reached out to grasp the Trident.

In a moment, something resonated within Chelseas' mind as her expression twisted, her giving out a cry as she erupted with steam all around her.

Ruby pulled back, protecting herself with her body Armor out of Instinct.

Once the steam subsided, the Kraken called out in a panic, "Chelsea! Are you okay!?"

As the steam cooled and a much larger form showed itself, a Scaley Form of a mermaid, flowing red hair turning to lines of foam.

As Chelsea opened her eyes, something felt…off…

"Krystal, Kraken…" She grimaced while staring at Ruby, as if she was a complete stranger.

-------

This is just a small piece of what I liked to think about after that reveal in the movie. I sorta like the idea of this a bit more. Maybe the Trident can have a memory of its Wielders by Species, leading to some sort of memory event. And of course there is the change of Chelsea being her own. What a depressing conclusion. Should have just made Chelsea her own character. Would be a more interesting suprise Twist for Agatha and her mother to discover this.

I watched the movie out of curiosity and to unwind, only to be so disappointed at this part that I've rewritten it as a fragment and revived this blog that laid dormant since I had heatstroke Last year and then 2023s' punches as an end result.

Here are my concepts of what can be done though. Instead Chelsea should have been her own character, indeed Nerissas' daughter, most likely still in her egg and having witnesses her own mothers' death.

Perhaps She is indeed Genuine as well, actually being friends with Ruby. Perhaps there are species based effects of the Trident of Oceanus. Maybe it brings up the memories of its past weilders, and with a trauma of having witnessed her mother having been slain, it can give just the right weakness for Chelsea to be over taken and almost possessed by the Trident, representing the past itself.

"A Kraken always answers the Call."

"A Mermaid remains true to her roots."

Perhaps she gets Ruby Early on into a bind and is about to slay her, only for tears to form as she tries to restain herself, not wanting to do it.

A Villian still, but an unintended one, making the real villain maybe the sins of the past.

Dunno if I'll update this one again, As I'd need to rewatch the movie again as I went to theaters, but here is this fragment and some of my ideas.

I wonder if people can ignore a companys' vision with enough audacity that they just retcon it in a sequel.

As a final piece, Maybe she does meet Agatha, and is holding onto Ruby in a way for comfort, as she is technically meeting then the Kraken that had killed her mother.

Maybe There is an argument in private where she demands Chelsea stay away from Ruby, as Mermaids can't be trusted, not even one.

This can also have a side effect of weakening Chelseas' resolve for an actual Peace, but memory of Ruby brings it all back, especially after Ruby picks her up and they leave.

Interesting if Also Chelsea gets called a monster by Agatha during that scene.

Suggest tags. I'm off to shower before the Infernal Meatball in the sky decides to fry me again.

[simp4strongwomen]

You’re in my Seat.

Y’all this is my first fic, pls go easy on it it’s my baby. I literally fell in love with Becky Lynch so quickly and I’m constantly on her X reader tab just to find new stuff so I thought ide try my hand at writing. The bold is the dialogue prompt I found. All credit goes to the owner, though I’m not sure who it is because I found the prompt in a random google doc and thought ide use it. So if you know who owns it pls tag them. Lots of Love.

Becky Lynch x Reader “What's that look for?” Becky Lynch looked up at you, after seeing your shadow block out the light.

“...You’re in my seat.” You replied, slightly scared of the fiery wrestler.

“Well I’m not moving, so either stop being a little bitch about it, and get another seat, or sit in my lap.” The red headed Irish woman took you by shock with her reply.

You have had a crush on the champion for quite some time. Actually ever since you joined the professional wrestling world three years ago. Once you had finally moved up to Raw, you tried your hardest to be friends with her, the only conversations you would have with The Man would always end up in her flirting and you flustered. You never thought that she would ever reciprocate the feelings you have for her. But maybe she did, but who are you kidding? That was just her personality, there is no way she would like you. Not when she is the Women's Champion, and you’re just a newer, younger, protogé. Little did you know though, that she enjoys the conversations you both have, and notices the effect she has on you. You have been the reason for some of her sleepless nights, just wondering what life with you could possibly be like. She enjoyed your nature and the aura that surrounds you, likening how it’s so different from her commanding fiery spirit.

“What?!” And once again, Lynch has been able to cast you flustered with one simple sentence.

Becky, not wasting any time, responds so coolly, yet panicking on the inside. “You heard me. I don’t care what you chose, but hurry it up, we don’t have all day.” At that point in time you're pretty sure your heart just pushed your brain out of the way, all thoughts about what could possibly happen in the future with this decision. Yet you pushed away all the negative and focused on the positive that came along, when you sat down on her lap.

Becky was in shock, she didn’t expect you to actually go through with that choice.  Reeling her head back in shock she asks you one question,” You comfortable lass?”

You, just deciding that whatever happens from here on out happens, so fuck it. “Quite actually. I think I should sit here more often. Though I think some people here might get a little jealous.” Wrapping one arm around her shoulder and messing with a strand of her curly orange hair, you busy yourself with looking anywhere but in her brown eyes.

“Oh well, that’s their loss they ain’t it. A pretty girl like you should just be sitting on anybody's lap, not unless they deserve it.” Her hand reaches around you back to squeeze your waist, watching the affect her touch has on you.

Finally looking into her deep brown eyes, you bite back,” Oh and you think you deserve it?” Messing around with the necklace around her neck helps your fidgeting calm down so you could hopefully keep up your badass attitude.

“Oh yeah I deserve it. You know why?” Shaking your head no at her question, you shiver when her free hand comes up to rest on your cheek. Becky pulls your face close to hers, you can smell her minty breath, her mouth just a couple inches away from yours. “Because I can get you to throw all cares out the window, and because we both know that we’re the only ones with our eyes set on each other.”

“So what you're saying is that we’re destined?” You both slowly get closer to each other, that is until The Man finally pulls you into her for a deep kiss. A kiss filled with all the words left unspoken between each other. Finally breaking apart after the need for oxygen became a necessity Becky spoke in a whisper as you two weren’t that far away, your lips still brushing when either one speaks.

“What I’m saying is that you and I are going to go on a date, after our matches are over, and not only that, but I’m going to be redoing our first kiss, because as much as I love the whole kissing you while you sit on my lap thing, we can save that for another time,” she smirked at the blush that crept up your face,” because you deserve the perfect night, with the perfect first kiss.” Sitting in silence for a few minutes thankful that one has walked past, or became witness to the very intimate moment.

That silence was broken when you spoke up,” So you’re telling me that you like me? Like actually like me.”

“Yes I actually like you, might I dare even say I love you.”

[laundrybiscuits]

(purify our misfit ways tag | AO3)

Sometimes he runs through the timeline in his head, trying to figure out: when they were trapped in the elevator, was he yelling at Gareth for fucking up the drum solo? When a sadistic goddamn Russian guard was making them bleed, was he already home and lighting up, Sabbath in the background?

He knows there’s probably not anything he could’ve done if he’d been there with them, but maybe—maybe it would’ve made a difference. Maybe if he’d been there, it would’ve helped somehow.

“Um, no,” says Steve, when Eddie makes the mistake of saying something to that effect. “Jesus, no. I’m really fucking glad you weren’t there, Eddie.”

“Huh. Okay,” says Eddie, a little hurt. He knows he’s not part of the new Steve-and-Robin thing or whatever, but still.

He’d driven Robin over to Steve’s place as a favor, because apparently Robin makes house calls at the Harrington estate now; he hadn’t really thought through the fact that he’d have to hang around until Robin is ready to go, seeing as Steve definitely isn’t capable of driving anytime soon, and now Robin’s in the bathroom and this might actually be the first time it’s ever just been the two of them in a room alone together, and this is what Steve Harrington chooses to say.

“No, I mean—” Steve goes to push his hand through his hair like he always does, and hisses as his bandaged hand catches on the strands. “I hate that Robin was there too. If I was worrying about taking care of you and Robin both, I’d…probably have done something really dumb.” Steve huffs, wincing. “Even dumber, I mean.”

“Who says I’d need you to take care of me? Who takes care of you, huh?” says Eddie. He doesn’t exactly mean to say it like that, and it comes out too soft.

Steve blinks at him like he’s just said something in Quenya, and Eddie…

Okay, so, when Eddie was a kid and still living with his ma, there was this mean old tomcat who’d come around. Never let anyone near, not that most people even wanted to get near something that ragged-looking and crusty. It wasn’t anything pretty or soft, looked like it had about a million diseases, and Ruth Munson had forbidden Eddie in no uncertain terms to go near the thing. Eddie hadn’t needed telling twice. He’d seen the tomcat take a real chunk out of a neighbor girl who’d tried to pet it, seen her hollering at the blood. Eddie wasn’t going to get himself bit like that, no way.

But then some real asshole had clipped the wretched beast out on the road, and Eddie’d found it mewling pitifully with a busted leg right outside his door, of all places. He’d never even tried to be nice to it before, but there it was looking up at him all big-eyed and limping and confused.

Turns out it’d been a savvy old tom to go to him after all, because Eddie’d taken one look and with all the resignation his eleven-year-old heart could muster, he’d thought: ah, hell. Guess this is happening.

Anyway, that’s the same feeling he gets looking at Steve Harrington, now.

Ah, hell.

The tomcat had still been kicking around when Eddie’d left to live with Wayne a few years later, more ancient and ornery than ever, but he��d always let Eddie sidle up close and rub the base of his ears even after his leg healed up and he didn’t need Eddie anymore. Went so far as to purr loud and ugly sometimes when Eddie did that, sputtering and wheezing up a racket like a broken-down motorbike. Even now, Eddie still thinks about him sometimes, wonders how he’s doing.

He rubs his eyes, suddenly wrung out. He hadn’t even known to be on his guard against this, but now it’s here, and he’s just going to have to ride it out until it reaches whatever tragic resolution it’s going to reach. He won’t make the same mistake he did with Robin, though; he’ll keep a leash on his greedy bastard of a heart until it learns not to push for stuff he can’t have.

It’s not the same, obviously. But it’s part of the same pattern; the kind of pattern that’s stretched over Eddie’s life, repeating again and again while he fails to learn his lesson. He’s always been too much for people to take, too hungry for stuff they can’t give him. This painfully tender thing that’s starting to unfurl in him whenever he looks at Steve, now, is just the dumbest part of him ignoring all the flashing red lights warning danger, danger, danger.

He can keep a lid on it, though. He can be better than the weakest part of himself this time. He has to be, because the thing is, Eddie has put in a lot of work into not being the probably-gay kid this time around. He can’t afford to let something slip in front of Steve Harrington, who despite all recent falls from grace is still someone people would believe if he ever said something about Eddie. The denizens of Hawkins High would definitely latch on, if word got around that Steve said something.

If Eddie has to go through the same thing he did back at his old school, but worse and more this time around because all the kids have sharper teeth, he’s—

He’s—

He’s not going to go through that, is all.

Honestly, Eddie had kind of thought he’d be past all this by this point in his life. He’s not sure what kind of life he’d thought he could have, but—a big city, maybe? New York, LA, Chicago, anywhere but Hawkins. It had seemed like a good starting point, but the city means money he doesn’t have, which means a real job he can’t get without the god damn diploma that keeps getting yanked away from him like he’s Charlie Brown chasing the god damn football.

His world is so small and petty, and he knows it, but it’s all he’s ever known. He never expected Steve to come creeping in at the edges, sweet and mean by turns, stealing his best friend and not even having the decency to be a real douchebag about it. Somehow becoming a pretty decent friend to Eddie, too.

Steve’s head is lolling against the back of the couch, eyes closed, breathing even. He’s still supposed to be on a bunch of medication, though Eddie has the sneaking suspicion Steve isn’t taking his pills as religiously as he should. He’s been complaining about feeling too fuzzy with the pills, not being able to think straight.

Personally, Eddie doesn’t really get it. If offered the choice, Eddie would take that cotton-wool layer between himself and the rest of the world any day of the week.

“Is he asleep?” Robin whispers, perching on the arm of the couch.

“No,” mumbles Steve, struggling back upright. “I’m awake. I’m here.”

Eddie glances over at Robin, biting down on a damningly fond smile. “Okay, sailor. How about we get you to bed, huh?”

Steve blinks at him, already sleep-flushed and hazy, and Eddie takes his elbow to tug him up gently. “C’mon. Robin, where’s his room?”

They get him all tucked in; Steve’s pliant, goes easy, and starts snoring before Eddie even hits the lights on his way out.

“I don’t think he’s been getting a lot of sleep,” says Robin.

“Yeah, seems like,” sighs Eddie. “How about you, Robbie? How’ve you been holding up?”

She frowns. “What are you talking about? It’s not like I even needed stitches or anything. Not like Steve did.”

“Sure, but.” He shrugs helplessly. “Buckley, you lived through a fucking nightmare too. Drugged by Russians in an underground lair, shit. It wouldn’t be unreasonable if it, you know, left a mark.”

She climbs into the passenger seat of his van, folding her legs up and wrapping her arms around her knees in blatant violation of automobile safety protocols. “I’m fine, Eddie. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Okay,” he says. “I mean, I’m gonna. You can’t stop me. I’m a rebel like that, totally off the chain.”

Robin grins, a bright flash in the low evening light, as he starts the van up to take her home. “Yeah, yeah,” she says. “Love you too, nerd.”

[grumpyshine]

Howdy, I find your vision of the Care Bears very unique. They have a more anthropomorphic body yet I still know they are care bears. Anyway, do you have a story going?

ooh thats wonderful to hear thank you !! glad to know they still look like care bears despite the huge changes, it gets a bit tricky with some of the bears haha

i infact do have a story going on!! the base of it is essentially the care bears protecting and helping people against no heart whos reawoken from how stressful the world has become. after he awoken the bears found themselves to have actual powers and it wasnt just fake visual effects like their shows ( some of the shows are all canon to this world, they were all actors because some company wanted to make money over the fact that theres some talking colorful bears, they still helped kids just didnt have actual powers yet )

some of these powers that the care bears unlock are essentially just weapons or stuff to help them combat, an example is funshine bear for whatever reason just getting a shield ( he doesnt understand why he got a shield only ) and for share she gets a two blades, grumpys the only one to get a Gun because i think thats funny

other than this plot, all the care bears + cousins live on a specific street, they care abt this community theyre in alot as its a struggling place and is a huge source of problems they could help out with, they have their own lil issues and fun times aswell between the bears aswell ! example , funshine reaching out to bedtime to help grumpy actually go to sleep for once, im still planning the lil stuff like that, for now though i got tenderheart and braveheart bein gym besties and oopsy feelin Very disconnected again from being a care bear. theres bands and bowling night aswell

thats abt it though ! it looks like a huge infodump oops, i still like the name care a lot street so maybe ill start tagging it like that who knows, tysm for asking about my story !! ♥️♥️

[tabsters]

SOMEONE LIKE ME (CHAP. 10) - A STARGLASS ZODIAC X ZODIAC EXPERIMENT CROSSOVER

aaaaaaand chapter ten!! wow, can't believe i've actually been keeping this up for two months already!

previous chapter is here

next chapter is here

masterpost is here

tagging @mythicalmagical-monkeyman @hyperfixation-tangentopia @maiawhimsicalt and @sweet-star-cookie!

“Mom!” Gemini shouted, cutting Cassie off. “Bye, Capricorn, I’m gonna go see Virgo!”

And with that, she took off. Ophiuchus and Capricorn sighed in unison, Capricorn making a hand movement that said ‘follow her’. Ophiuchus nodded in agreement, and she gestured for Cassie to come along. 

They found Gemini in animated conversation with a green-haired woman, dressed in a silver evening gown. Virgo. 

"Cassie, meet my mom!" Gemini grabbed Cassie's hands and spun her around to look Virgo in the eye. 

"Hi!" Cassie said first this time, sticking out her hand. Virgo smiled warmly, shaking her hand.

"Wonderful to finally meet you, Cassie." Virgo smoothed out a crease in Cassie's cape. "I hope you enjoy this simple soirée Capricorn has put together."

Gemini snorted at that. "Simple? This is probably one of her biggest ones yet."

"Ah, you know Capricorn," Virgo said, waving her hand. "She's always trying to outdo herself."

"Mother, Gemini," A new voice said, coming nearer. "Got us some pastries, the really good ones—oh. The newcomer."

Cassie turned around hesitantly, coming face-to-face with a tall, muscled man with curly brown hair, wearing a dark red suit. His eyes were partially obscured by dark sunglasses, and they were scrunched up in what looked like disdain. 

Gemini laughed nervously. "Cassie, this is my big brother...Aries. Say hi, Ari." 

Aries stared at Cassie for a moment, then huffed and gave her a terse nod.

Cassie was reminded of her own Aries, and how different he and this Aries seemed to be. Her Aries was a bit more...twitchy, a bit more aggressive. This one was more silent, more judgemental. 

"Not a lot of people came this time," Gemini said, taking one of the pastries that Aries had brought over. "Less than half of us came. I thought Libra was going to attend, though?"

"She had to cancel on short notice. The demons in the realm are becoming restless." Virgo sipped at her wine glass. "It's an unfortunate happenstance for all of us."

"Nobody interesting came to this ball," Aries grumbled. "Not even Father or Scorpio."

Gemini elbowed her brother. "You're just salty that Sagittarius didn't come. Somebody misses their crush?" This question was accompanied with smooching sound effects.

Aries grunted. "Shut it."

"Oh, this is a really good piece," Ophiuchus said as the orchestra began once more, shifting into a slower, deeper musical tone. She reached her hand out to Gemini. "C'mon, let's dance!" 

"I've played this piece too many times on the piano already," Gemini whined, but smiled. "You gonna join us, Cassie?"

"Oh, I don't have much practice dancing." Cassie smiled sheepishly. 

"Watch us, then you can try. C'mon!" Gemini ran off with Ophiuchus, towards the dance floor.

"Okay! I'm coming!" Gemini waved goodbye to Aries and Virgo before running after Gemini and Ophiuchus.

Gemini and Ophiuchus stepped carefully around on the dancefloor, spinning in a circle with barely any steps; it could've been performed on a pie plate. Other pairs nearby were doing the same small, delicate dance.

"This is shit," Gemini whispered out of the corner out of her mouth, causing Cassie to giggle a bit. "So slow." 

"Just wait..." Ophiuchus murmured back. "Wait for the crescendo."

And then the music began to swell, began to surge, began to rise. Ophiuchus' and Gemini's movements started to spread out more, they began to step faster and step farther apart. Ophiuchus twirled Gemini in a circle, Gemini leaned close to Ophiuchus' body and then pulled away, both of them in time to the music.

Cassie watched them in awe, watched them how the two of them worked together in tandem, watched how for every movement Ophiuchus made, Gemini made another.

The piece ended with a flourish, and Ophiuchus dipped Gemini down low. The two of them remained there for a moment before Gemini leaned up and pecked Ophiuchus on the lips.

"That was so cool!" Cassie said. "Could you teach me how to dance?"

"Of course." Ophiuchus placed a hand on Cassie's shoulder and another on her back. The orchestra began another piece, this one faster and a bit more lively.

"This is how to do a simple waltz," Ophiuchus said over the music. "Just follow my lead, okay?"

Cassie nodded, letting Ophiuchus guide her across the dancefloor. 

"Step back with your right foot. Now, move your left foot sideways to the left, yes, that's exactly it." Ophiuchus said gently as the two of them stepped back and forth. "Take your right foot to your left foot, then take a step forward with your left foot. Move back a bit, to the right. Then, you close your left foot to your right foot." 

Cassie and Ophiuchus repeated these steps for a bit, and Cassie smiled up at the constellation. "Hey, it's not that bad!" 

"Rather easy, once you get the hang of it, isn't it?"

Nearby, Gemini and Pegasus were doing what looked like a highly exaggerated version of the tango, both of them laughing.

"Peggy, you stepped on my foot!" 

"Sorry! This would be easier if you weren't so short!"

"Wha—hey! I'm not that short!" 

Cassie giggled at their bickering, and soon Ophiuchus joined in as well. Gemini made a pouty face at the two of them, which caused them to laugh even more.

The group's laughter was abruptly cut short when two women approached them. One of them had black hair tied back in a severe bun, and strikingly orange eyes. The other had long dark brown hair tumbling around her shoulders, and warm brown eyes. This one also had two bear ears poking out of the top of her head.

"Ara. Ursa Major." Pegasus nodded her head towards them. "How are you this evening?"

"Advisors to Aries and Virgo," Ophiuchus whispered to Cassie for the girl's benefit. "Two of the most powerful ones, too." 

"Fine," Ara said bluntly. She had on a black face mask with gray markings like that of a tiger's. Her black and red lace dress swished around her as she talked. "There's a problem. We need your assistance."

"Shadows are gathering at the palace gates," Ursa Major said. She had a dark pink veil covering the lower half of her face, and her silk dress was dripping with jewels and beads. "We need every hand on deck to help...drive them out, before they break in and cause havoc."

Pegasus nodded curtly. "Understood. I didn't bring my rifle though—?"

Ara removed a small pistol from a pocket within her dress and tossed it to Pegasus. "This should suffice. Ammo is located in the downstairs lockers." 

Pegasus caught it with one hand. "Very well. And your own weapons?"

"Already taken care of." Ursa Major whipped out two curved swords from the folds of her dress. Ara threw out four tiny throwing knives, which snapped out into four larger, floating blades.

"Why are you bringing weapons into a ball?" Gemini asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"Just in case the wrong person brings weapons into the ball," Ara responded cryptically, and then gestured for Pegasus to follow them. "Shouldn't take more than an hour or so. The other advisors present are also helping to dispatch the shadows."

Pegasus' brows furrowed, and Ara picked up on her unease. "Please put aside your grudge with your brother—"

"Half-brother." Pegasus interrupted.

"Half brother, for the duration of this fight. You know as well as I that you two make a phenomenal team when in combat. When it is over, you may go back to hating him in peace."

Pegasus' fist clenched around the pistol, and Cassie was afraid for a split second that the Constellation would turn violent, but then the woman's grip relaxed. "Alright. Fine."

"I should go too," Ophiuchus said suddenly, and Asclepius wriggled up and down her shoulders in anticipation. "I have a talent with shadow demons."

"And me!" Gemini shouted, hand grabbing at the necklace around her neck. She ripped the bar-shaped pendant off its cord, and it began to grow into a tall, gilded staff. "I'm not letting you get hurt—not again." 

"No. You stay here." Ophiuchus rested her hand on top of Gemini's. "The people will start to panic if a Zodiac goes missing without warning." 

"Agreed." Pegasus wrenched the staff out of Gemini's hands and it shrank back to its original pendant size. "And if this is a serious threat, we need you out of harm's way." 

Gemini took the offered pendant back, attaching it back to her necklace. She looked at her advisor, then her lover, and then sighed. "Okay. Go."

Ara nodded. "Very well. Both of you, follow me."

The women departed, and Cassie was left with a very dejected Gemini. The Zodiac made her way to the floor-to-ceiling windows, peering down at the sights below.

The windows offered a perfect view of the courtyard, where the two of them could see exactly what was going on. Tall, wispy black figures began lumbering into the palace grounds. Each of them had a bright purple core somewhere on their bodies. They also didn't seem to have arms, but long tendrils that grew and grew, grabbing at anything they could. 

"What are they...?" Cassie asked, her voice a bare whisper.

"Shadow demons." If looks could kill, all of the creatures in the courtyard could have been obliterated by Gemini's gaze. "Little bastards. There's a higher concentration of them in Capricorn's kingdom, but they've never been bold enough to do this."

Muffled shouts were barely audible from the glass, and Cassie could see the advisors of the Zodiacs rush out of the palace doors to take on the shadow demons. 

Corvus was flying over the taller demons, diving down and dropping something—a golden crown?—over their cores. As soon as the gold touched the cores, the demons immediately calmed. The crow constellation then flew  back and forth, herding the pacified demons to another location.

Nearby her, Pegasus was firing bullets into smaller demons' cores, slowing them down. The cores flickered, and the demons screamed in what was presumably pain. Then vines erupted from the dirt beneath them and crushed the life out of the demons, their cores breaking and their nebulous bodies dissipating. Taurus' advisor—Pavo—snapped his fingers and the vines retreated back into the ground.

Pegasus, apparently, was not pleased with Pavo's handiwork and began shouting at him. Pavo began shouting back, their words completely muted by the glass. Neither of them noticed the shadow demon beginning to creep up on them—and for a second, Cassie's heart twisted with worry.

And then Ara vaulted over the both of them, her floating blades slicing the demon's core cleanly in half. The two core halves fell to the ground, and now she began shouting at both of them, probably telling them to stop infighting and pay attention. 

"Wow," A small voice said from somewhere near Cassie's midsection. "They're so cool."

Cassie looked around. Gemini had left. Over at her side, there was a small boy watching the scene outside the window intently. He smiled up at her. "Hello! I'm Ursa Minor, what's your name?"

"I'm Cassie," Cassie said, looking at the child, wondering why such a young kid was allowed to wander around a crowded ball. Where are his parents?

Ursa Minor pointed to a small figure in the fray. "That's my big sister! Ursa Major! She's so cool. She kicks all the demons' butts!"

Ah. That explains it. Cassie could see the sibling resemblance, in the kid's eyes and hair and bear ears. Her Ursa Major and Ursa Minor were actual bears. In fact, they were some of the first spirits she had ever encountered. 

"Yeah, she is really cool," Cassie said as the two of them watched Ursa Major hack through shadow demons with ease. Beside her, Asclepius had grown to an enormous size and Ophiuchus was riding on their back. The snake bit down on shadow demons' cores, shattering them. 

"Minora!" Someone shouted, running towards them. 

The someone was a short, green haired person with a turtle shell on their back. Behind them, a man with long, navy hair and a silver suit was awkwardly speed walking after them, trying to not spill his cocktail.

"Minora, there you are!" The green haired person said, scolding Ursa Minor. "What have I told you about bothering strangers?"

"But she's watching api fight!" Ursa Minor protested as the person picked him up. "She thinks that api's cool too!" 

The person sighed, and looked up at Cassie. "Sorry about him. He's a handful. I'm Scutum, by the way. And you must be..." They peered at the bright blue star inside Cassie's eye. "The stranger that everyone is talking about." 

"Aha. Yep. That's me." Cassie awkwardly rubbed at the eye containing the Starglass. So this is the Scutum in Ciara's Astral Plane? They're...a turtle. Well, I guess it makes sense that they're a turtle—turtles do have shells like a shield.

"Jesus, Scutum, chill out," The man said, finally catching up to Scutum. "It's not like the kid's gonna cause any damage.

“He was bothering Gemini’s guest,” Scutum huffed. “Wanted to watch his big sister fight.”

“He wasn’t a bother,” Cassie quickly said. “He’s very cute.”

“See? No problems caused.” The man turned to Cassie. “I’m Indus. This twitchy guy over here is my partner.

“I’m twitchy because we both should be down there.” Scutum rolled their eyes. “You know both of us are the most skilled at taking out shadows.”

“You need to rest.” Indus placed his hand on Scutum’s shoulder, sipping at his cocktail. “You broke five ribs trying to take on ten shadows at once.”

“I got the job done, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but that’s not the point—“

“You two are experts in shadow demons?” Cassie asked. “Could you maybe explain to me what they are and why they’re so dangerous?”

"Of course," Scutum said, hefting Ursa Minor in their arms. "In this world, 'demon' refers to any entity fully created from nature and the elements. They are not necessarily good or evil—rather function as any force of nature."

"There are many types of demons, but shadow demons are some of the most powerful." Indus said as Scutum paused in their talk to let Ursa Minor down to the ground. "And recently, they've become more restless, more aggressive. Demons reflect the state of nature, and their new behavior means that something in the natural forces has been thrown out of balance."

"Nothing good will come out of this," Indus finished quietly. "This is an omen. And all we can do is try and delay the inevitable."

Cassie looked down at the scene beneath her. There were only a few demons left, and the ones remaining began to flee the palace grounds. 

She began to think that this world wasn't quite what she thought it was.

check out @sweet-star-cookie's starglass zodiac lore if you liked this!! questions about my lore are greatly appreciated!!

[moonchild-in-blue]

Whoa okay so i decided to write an ask insted of commenting on your tags because this way i can actually write stuff down, not counting letters to fit in. And i'm kinda in word vomiting mood, i'm so sorry for that.

Most importantly thank you so much for a thousandth time and a few more, yet again. Your tags fill me with so much joy every time. TmT

And yeah at first i thought the "big" songs will be more intimidating but i start to feel like it's quite the opposite? Specifically because of them being so powerful. There are very strong emotions and if i just let my anxiety over it go and make it simple, it works.

I mean especially when there is something personal to tie it with in any way shape or form? Yeah there is not many conscious thoughts behind what goes onto the page, it just kinda happens. Also if you ever stood bare feet in any sort of rain especially when it's cold… there is very little that can describe better the feeling blood sport gives me, than having your bare feet sink 2 cms into sopping, cold grassy mud. It's the physical equivalent of the same miserable feeling for me 😂

The shape of the lightning is fully unintentional, it just turned out that way. I wanted to put it over Ves' head to be visible and make a few forks in it to look more natural, nothing more to it really. But i loove your interpretation so i'm running with it. All of it. This is why i love art, because once you put it out there it becomes so much more because those who observe it bring their own stuff to pour into it? That is what art is all about.

And i'm right there with you, this entire challenge turned out to be even more fun and confidence boosting than i originally expected? I'm not even (tho very close to) the halfway point? I mean i wanted to do it to get back to drawing but i can see progression in just 20 days, steadily getting back to the level of technicality i was at 10 years ago? And kinda developing a style which i never had? Also as an unexpected but not unwelcome side effect is Tiny Token happening? Which is like.. the joy of putting a smol smile on people's faces even for a second? It's so worth it. TmT

Sorry for this kind of pointless rant but like.. i really do appreciate you and a few others (i see you Alex, Ash, Kay and Misha) commenting on almost every single one of the small offerings so far? It means so much TAT

🥺 🥺 🥺

Not to be super sappy, and to turn this into a sob fest, but honestly it's been amazing to see this challenge come to life!! And a big YAY for the confidence boost!! You deserve it, Levynn!!

I see what you mean about the "big emotions". It makes perfect sense actually. And yeah, I can see the steady improvement, another BIG YAY!!

(and Tiny Token my beloved babies. They are just the cutest ever 🥺🥺)

Just want to take the opportunity to say, how wonderful it is to see so, so many of us getting the confidence and morale to start creating (or get back to it) because of Sleep Token. Or having the confidence to talk to people and make friends.

It almost feels silly but?? If you told me a few months ago I'd be sharing my art in here, and reaching out to people, I'd tell you you're insane. And ~yet~. You bet I (and all the lovely people you've mentioned) will keep commenting on your pieces and hyping you up!! We're all about friends supporting friends in this household 💙✨

[phasebun]

Hello hi (: I just created a bg3 Tumblr (or well ive had it for a while) but haven’t posted anything yet, i’m planning to post some screenshots soon of my resist dark urge, but i feel like no one will see it? Do you have any tips for like getting views? Dont get me wrong, i dont have to be popular or something and get a lot of notes but i would love to get to know some people and just share my stuff, knowing people like it. So, just wondering if you have any tips to think about to easier expose and share your Tumblr so other people see it :) thank you!



Hiii!! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) first, I’ll apologize if what I say is not helpful LOL I can only answer from how I function ofc, and I can be a very “it is, what it is” person :x sorry for the long answer as well lmao

As long as you use tags (bg3 tags and more) many will always see it, the actual “engagement” usually comes from a few that decide to like as well as reblogs. The bg3 community isn’t as huge as you might expect, and a lot of exposure relies on who you’re mutuals with tbh (as well as if someone with more followers picks up your art). I recommend following and engaging with those in the community for sure, especially if they follow you back. Supporting one another goes a long way, and that’s to say this site does rely on reblogs lol (but don’t take a like vs a reblog personal)

For a long time, I posted a ton of pics at once and had maybe 1 steady follower that liked my fave otp/storytelling xD and that was enough for me, a “oh wow, cool” moment. I also barely followed ANY bg3 blogs because I was lurking and was weary, and even now I’m selective (ALWAYS curate your dash to what YOU want) and ngl, that was enough for me since I was happy to fill this blog. Even now, I have posts/storyboards that took days to create with very minimal “notes” but it’s there, so who really knows who’s reading and seeing it lol I create with shots as a replacement for me not being able to draw a lot of the ideas I have anyway LOL (ngl even on nexus, for a long time engagement was minimal, but I never let that stop me because I’m having fun)

It also depends on the type of “content” you’re posting. If you plan on including origin charas, your engagement will be a lot more (usually) than if you were to not. Personally, my first post to “explode” was a post with Ketheric, Orin, and Gortash lol my other posts for a while never reached that because I don’t really include origin charas. If you’re posting screenshots only, and haven’t dabbled in gifs, that also has an effect on engagement (it’s just the way the site works lol) Don’t let it discourage you, you might feel alone if no one engages, but try to keep in mind, you never know who is looking and enjoying. If you’re having fun and loving it, sometimes you might have to repeat that as a mantra to keep going. Don’t give up!! Things take time ^^ once you gain followers, you can also periodically reblog your posts just in case some didn’t see. (I follow over 500 blogs cause I’m crazy so I miss posts from those I follow myself LOL)

ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ ) ♡ ofc!!!

[kempbell]

Find the word tag!

Thanks for the tag @quinnharperwrites. For those that don't know, if challenged you have to find a set of words from any of your WIP(s) and then challenge people with a different set. 

My words were: issue, location, way, glasses, and bed

This was actually really fun, and surprisingly challenging considering I couldn’t find about half of them.

Bed- Estrella Solitaria  Reaching the top of the hill, Ophellia smiled, sighed and slowly turned to admire the path she had walked and how different the world looked under the light of the two moons. Before her crops and farmland stretched as far as her eye could see and further still, their embrace seemingly blanketing the entire world like a planet sized bed. Her eyes tilted upwards and her gaze turned to the stars. There’s a certain beauty in the unknown, she thought to herself, dreaming. Dreaming of what, if anything lied beyond the plantation- of what distant worlds her parents may have called home. As she gazed towards the stars, she wondered how many millions of sunsets she was watching from this hill, and wondered if her parents were watching them with her.

Glasses (glass(?))- Estrella Solitaria  Hours felt like minutes as Ophellia sat by the window, watching awestruck as entire solar systems streaked across the inky darkness like raindrops on glass. The galaxy was a lot larger than just Hephaestus. An uncomfortable feeling of insignificance formed a pit in her gut and in an attempt to distract herself she turned her focus towards the Emissaries.

Way- Despair The commissar shook his head, unconvinced. Perhaps the Negotiator was unconvinced too. He was good at his job and had a supernatural knack for knitting sentences in such a way that he usually got what he wanted before they were through. Even so, he doubted his abilities would at all be effective towards a god.

Issue  N/A

Location nope.

I decided to include “way” twice to make up for all of the missing words.

Way- Despair Above, scores of trenches scarred the soil like stretch marks on skin and each day, the frontlines inched closer and closer to friendly lands. He closed his eyes, trying to push away the unbearable feeling of grief, gripping at throat and as he did so he realized he was crying. It's just in your head, you need to appear in control, he reminded himself, lying, as he pushed himself upwards, half expecting his legs to melt under him on his way up.

I challenge @shellyscribbles ,@caffeine-bee, @yvesdot and anyone else that wants to join.

Your words are: Life, why, pretty, sad, and star

[skeletonsweatshirt]

Connected || Viktor x gn!reader

Connected - Part 2

Soulmate!AU (Red String of Fate)

Viktor x gn!reader

WC: 1.4k

Tags: Reader and Jayce are friends I think? Viktor still doesn't say anything, I'm so sorry, I swear he'll say something next chapter, Reader being studious, I proofread this myself

Warnings: Uhh none? I don't think so at least.

A/N: Hey my lil stinkers. I'm back and this fic is going kinda slow. I'll do stuff eventually I promise it's just that being a high school student and cashier simultaneously is a little tiring. Also, I promise Viktor will be an actual person next chapter I just haven't been able to weasel him into the chapters yet cuz my brain doesn't work. Anyway, enjoy. (Please enjoy please please please it is 12:07am as I write this and I just spent like 2 hours writing and editing this)

After an hour and a half of back and forth between you and Jayce as he tried to show the lab while also answering your slew of questions, you are presented to your lab station and left to settle in.

You open your bag and remove the lab items you managed to stuff into it earlier that day. You lay out three journals, two of which are already full of sloppy handwriting from your previous years of research. You also pull out a pencil bag and a fold-up set of tools that- compared to the collection you helped Jayce clean up earlier- look minuscule and boring.

Viktor and Jayce left the lab not long after you started working. Something about getting something to eat and being back soon. You said, "Whatever's fine.", and waved the boys off at one point to a question you're only like 90% sure was asking what you wanted to eat.

You stand and walk around the open floor of the lab, taking time to stop and look at some of the notes Viktor and Jayce have made on their most recent project. 

"Damn." You whisper to the air after looking at the blueprints and notes, the purpose of the project you only half-understood.

You return to your desk and sit in the swivel chair stationed at your workbench. Leaning back, you use your heels to spin yourself around. One of your leisurely circles ends with you facing the metallic stool your brown-haired colleague sat atop before.

Your eyes narrow, effectively locking onto the furniture from across the room. Your mind wanders to the memory of Viktor acting like you just weren't in the room when Heimer introduced you. The memory of his glances singeing a hole into the side of your skull.

You seriously wonder how that is. You wonder how someone wouldn't be excited to meet their perfect match. You reach into your bag and grab the black leather journal you use for your observations and thoughts on soulmates. You begin to thumb through the pages, skimming the ocean of words for any hint of anything other than complete ecstatics from the hundreds of people you interviewed after they met their soulmate.

You peer down at the red ribbon still fastened to your pinkie finger. Your brows stitch together on your forehead as you look at the string. The tie you've had forever, that you'd been desperate to discover the other end, seemed not to affect your counterpart. 

You reach the end of your entries somewhat past the middle of the journal. You snag a pencil from the surface next to you and jot down the date, time, and work-in-progress title at the top of the page before you begin writing your observations so far. Viktor's lack of reaction, his not-so-gentle glances toward you, and his overall "meh" attitude towards his soulmate walking in the door.

You then spend another half hour just reading and writing. And then reading and writing and then reading and writing. You fill another three pages just writing notes and theories about soulmates and why Viktor could be so apathetic about the whole ordeal.

"Whatcha writing?" Jayce's sing-songy voice rings out from behind you.

"Sweet Mother of Zaun!" You scream. You nearly fall out of your chair from how high you jump, in addition to how quickly you manage to close your journal. "God dammit, Jayce."

"Sorry!" He apologizes and pulls up a chair next to you. "...So, soulmates, huh?"

"What do you mean?" You ask, skeptical of what he's referring to.

"That's what the writing was about a second ago, correct? Something about how different people react to meeting their soulmates?" Jayce asks, pointing toward the now closed black-leather journal on your lap.

"Oh, yeah. Just personal research I've been working on for a while. I decided to write while you and Viktor were out because I've gotten some controversial opinions on researching this topic, but if anything, that makes it more intriguing. If that many people have qualms with me learning about it, there has to be a reason behind it." You explain to your associate. "Speaking of, where is Viktor?"

"Not 100% sure. Viktor said he was getting something from his dorm, so I'm not sure when he'll be back." Jayce shrugs. "So, while I wait for my lab partner to return, I'll ask you a question."

"Alright. Hit me." You reply.

"What made you want to research soulmates?" Jayce questions. "What was so interesting about it to you?"

"Well, generally, I guess the idea always caught my interest. The red string and what people are willing to do to see the other side fascinate me." You beam. "I mean, just my parents being my parents makes the whole idea so alluring. My mom is from Piltover, and my dad is a Zaunite. Isn't it insane that a fresh-out-of-school businesswoman and an ex-Chem-punk who somehow got hired to dispose of Piltover's garbage can be perfect for each other?"

Jayce wears an expression that says he's thinking about what was just said to him. You watch his face patiently, awaiting a response other than his thinking.

"What about...not generally?" He asks. 

"What?" You respond, eyebrows knitting together in a way you're sure your mother would comment on if she were in the room.

"Well, you said generally the idea caught your interest. What about not generally?" He elaborates like it's obvious what he's asking.

You facepalm mentally. Of course, the 'Man of Progress' would catch on to some stupid detail like that. "What, you want me to tell you what I was just writing or something?" You ask.

"That would work, yeah." Jayce curtly nods and then looks at you expectantly.

"Okay, but you cannot say anything about it to anyone else, and Jayce Talis, I swear if I hear you laugh, I will kick you down to Zaun myself." You stare at him with the same expectant look, waiting for confirmation he understands what you said.

Jayce nods again, and you continue. "I was researching reactions to soulmates because when I walked into the lab today, I realized Viktor's red string is attached to mine, and he acted like he didn't care about my existence at all, and I wanted to see if that was common." You spoke so quickly that you sounded like a Zaunite music artist or a Piltover auction host.

Jayce goes back to nodding for a few seconds, after which he looks at you and, in the most genuine tone, says. "He's much more excited than he seems."

"Okay, Jayce, if you keep saying things that fully make no sense, I'm gonna stop talking to you altogether." You kind of joke.

"Okay. Okay, fine. What I mean is that Viktor is very work-oriented. On top of that, he doesn't really...project his emotions. Especially around new people. So chances are, instead of getting all giddy or excited, he'll stare at you until it feels like you're going to keel over." Jayce explains in a way that makes puzzle pieces click together in your mind.

"So that's what that was?" You ask, going wide-eyed as you realize that was probably the most obvious conclusion you could've drawn.

"Yeah. When I asked Viktor about it a while ago, he said he'd sooner focus on work than soulmates because finding your soulmate doesn't help anyone but you and your soulmate." Jayce states.

"Okay, I guess that's understandable." You nod.

You turn your head to the side and peek at the clock sitting on your desk. You stand and begin to collect your things from your workbench. "It's almost 8. I have pre-class homework from Heimer and my first actual class tomorrow at 10 bells. I'm not wasting my scholarship because I wanted to stay in the lab an extra hour. See ya, Jayce, and tell Vik I said goodnight."

You collect the rest of your things and make your departure from the lab doors. You look at the string hanging from your pinkie as you walk back to your dorm, silently contemplating your conversation with Jayce. At least you know why Viktor was being all weird now.

[crqstalite]

I posted 421 times in 2022

74 posts created (18%)

347 posts reblogged (82%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@zenyeetaa

@thomas-the-goat-of-satan

@alenkokaidans

@inquisitorlavcllan

@york-morgans

I tagged 226 of my posts in 2022

Only 46% of my posts had no tags

#mass effect - 21 posts

#original character - 9 posts

#oc - 9 posts

#kim's art &lt;3 - 6 posts

#swtor - 6 posts

#dragon age - 5 posts

#my art - 5 posts

#citlali velasquez - 5 posts

#brione petrakis - 4 posts

#marvel - 4 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#edit bc i kept thinking: i understand that its *probably* a loose examination of what the adultification of children (especially teen girls

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

and the finished product. a redraw of this piece from three years ago.

-

"It seems introductions are in order." Lana states, stepping out of the metaphorical and literal shadows with their red-jacketed savior a few steps behind. Zanya shifts her weight back to her uninjured foot, taking stock of her surroundings. Beniko had lead her into a trap, whether knowingly or unknowingly and now there's a Republic spy with her. Considering the rest of her company, she wonders how long she had her working in tandem with the opposite faction. She catches the gaze of the cerulean eyed Jedi to her right, long enough to get a sense of her Force Signature.

Closed off, yet hiding something that simmers just below the surface. Pulsating, as if daring for her to seek it out. Reaching out does little, but Zanya can't help but feel like she's felt her somewhere before. Somewhere deep in the recesses of her mind she recognizes the feeling, just barely.

Fascinating.

The Jedi knows she's staring. Feels her, maybe. She averts her eyes, just as she turns her head to look at her.

"Master Qelu, glad you're back in one piece."

13 notes - Posted December 3, 2022

#4

Shards of Glass

Intended to post this when I eventually finished and published the Citadel arc of Redamancy, but wrote it instead of actually working on aforementioned arc.

The Citadel Coup's aftermath from the perspective of one Priana T'Lara, and how she spends the night with a certain Mason Shepard.

General warnings for mentions of injury, blood, and a minor panic attack at the end from the protagonist.

-

"Thirsty?"

Priana glances up over her shoulder from where she sits on the balcony, surprised to see her partner with two cups in hand emerging from the dim light of his apartment, along with a medical kit in the other. Unlike her, he'd dressed out of his uniform, hair tied back from his face and donning a t-shirt and sweats. He's barefoot, unafraid of the possible glass spray on his floor -- or maybe too tired to care. She nods wordlessly, taking one of them from him while rolling her sleeves up.

There's still smoke billowing out from levels beneath them, hours after the invasion had ended. Fires probably, still burning. The Presidium's a wreck. The Wards are a wreck. People are dead. Co-workers are dead. Her friends are dead. Her apartment is shot to hell, and nothing is working right. Nothing quite feels real, and she sips down the glass of water faster than she should. She has sixty billion questions fumbling around in her mind, but she can't muster up the strength to rationalize it all. Likely they'll get the botched report within the next few days, with as many redactions as she has years on her.

She wonders who the hell got paid off to make all this happen.

Her eyes are drawn to her partner as he sits down next to her, Mason's got a nasty gash down the length of his exposed arm, and she winces when she sees the bloodied bandage around his forearm. It's carefully wrapped up in gauze by now, but it'd still been ugly when one of the C-Sec meds had to do it for him before rushing off to the next officer who'd been hurt during the invasion.

One of the many mistakes she'd made today, and the one she regrets the most.

"How're you holding up?" He asks, unlatching the clips on the kit. She shrugs. As well as she could be doing. She feels like an elcor is sitting on her chest and she may as well be drowning in the Presidium pools with how heavy her head feels.

The painkillers the apologetic asari had given to her earlier hadn't worked nearly as well as she thought they would.

Still, she gives a half sarcastic smile to the human beside her. He has bigger problems right now, and one of them shouldn't be her passive aggressive nature. Shouldn't be her guilt weighing on his conscience.

Asari were presumably naturally unemotional once they got older. So many years meant they saw people die. Meant they understood that life was fleeting for other races. Meant they grew desensitized over the years that events like this rarely affected them unless it directly hurt their own.

Her's hadn't gotten the memo, because no matter how much she tries to distance herself from the incident, she can't help but get angry all over again. With herself, with citadel security, with Cerberus...it feels like she's about to burst. It didn't matter that there were humans who weren't going home tonight, it didn't matter more that there were turians who were unlikely to check in alongside her tomorrow. All of it felt like death, tearing away at her and leaving her raw.

She'd never been through something like this. Never seen all this destruction and death up close.

It hurts.

It's not supposed to hurt.

"We don't have to be back on duty until later afternoon tomorrow. Injuries and all." He pulls out the rubbing alcohol, tentatively reaching over to her own knuckles. At first she wants to pull away, she's not a child, she can clean her own wounds, but she figures it's equally childish not to let the man do his own job. She gestures for him to take it, and he does, "Bailey's scrambling to get enough officers on duty to flush any remaining Cerberus agents out, but he's brought in outside help where he can. The worst of it's over for now."

She bites her lip, the alcohol burning at her half healed skin. It fuzzes up, turning white as Mason gently dabs at each tear. From stray gunshots, torn right through her gloves before she could toss the offending enemies away. They weren't deep enough to scar for too many years, likely they wouldn't even be there by her tricentennial.

At least her blood had stopped oozing out of it. It'd stained her uniform in multiple places, and made her dizzy with how much she's pretty sure she lost in the fights down in the Wards. Her worse injuries were wrapped at the remains of Huerta, and she'd been sent off with antibiotics and enough painkillers to probably kill a Quarian.

Mason looks worse for wear. Humans always did, so injury prone, so delicate and fleshy. Most were a map of scars in her line of work, and he was no exception. A cut above his eye, one underneath the other. Likely her shields had protected him from anything potentially fatal, but her heart still seizes up at the gauze.

His gaze follows her's, and he sighs, pulling out his own roll to wrap around her hand, "You know T'Lara, humans are sturdier than you think."

"I know." She answers quietly. Scarily so. Almost every organ in their body could be replaced, and they bounced back extremely fast. Broken bones were no problem for them, skin could grow back faster than she thought possible and they did it all within a handful of years.

Usually she wouldn't fret. She'd had human companions before, but Mason is the anomaly.

She feels like she failed him, and it's eating at her.

She hates feeling weak. Exposed. Vulnerable. Hates feeling like this.

"That wasn't your fault." He says, uncapping the ointment and carefully applying it before rolling the fabric out, almost as if he's read her mind, "It'll heal."

Two minutes too long. She'd been stripped of her shields, her own blood dribbling down her chin from her nose and a rolled ankle making it difficult to gain any ground.

See the full post

14 notes - Posted January 23, 2022

#3

Starting off the year right with Citlali again! This time likely catching her breath after a night in the Wards with a friend, or two.

15 notes - Posted January 1, 2022

#2

Happy Year In Review 2021!!

I've certainly lived in interesting times and here's my eventual result of that. (Can't believe it's already been a year -- 2020)

WORD COUNT:

This year I wrote a total of 127,820 words (92,789 published, 35,031 unpublished). Honestly I'm a little disappointed, I thought I did more than that. Given, it's 2021, the year of crises left and right, but...yeesh. That's less than I did back in 2019. In like, two or three months.

Most of the year was out of my control though, and I'm still standing. I count it as a win.

The Breakdown:

My Mass Effect works took up about 3/4s of the actual word count, at 112,020 words written (and 22,934 unpublished, along with most of what I haven't released for Redamancy yet). My goal this year was to finish Redamancy but it had other ideas, so I'm maybe halfway through actually finishing it? That could be another year.

My Arcane works (what a surprise), are all still unpublished with posting dates being sometime in early 2021. However, they're 12,097 words by themselves so far, so it's okay. I didn't expect to end up writing for League anytime soon, but here we are.

My singular Dragon Age work this year was Bones, which was 1,879 words. Not surprised I didn't have more, it's Dragon Age. That and I lost all of the games when my account was hacked earlier in the year. Not a lot of motivation to write for this fandom.

My singular Mind Blind work this year was "Do It For Them", which was 1,824 words. It's been a while since I've really interacted with the IF fandom, so that's pretty unsurprising.

New Things I Tried:

Not much I don't think? Redamancy has actually been beta'd, every single chapter currently published has had a second pair of eyes over it (which is such a big help, you'd never notice how many misspellings you miss yourself), but beyond that I didn't really have the time or mental energy to do much else. EXCEPT for starting to write for Arcane. Never thought I'd do anything relating to League.

(God I hate the culture around League so much.)

Favorite Thing I Wrote This Year:

Probably Letters Home? Not super sure why but it is one of the few times I've genuinely liked something I wrote mainly in a non-OC's perspective. It's a working point for Joker and Citlali, which are two characters I hesitate to write together for whatever reason.

(That and it's criminal how Tiptree and Joker's feelings related to it are just swept under the rug -- it's criminal!)

Favorite Fic I Read This Year:

@ljandersen's Sideways. Easily one of my favorites (even if I'm still behind a handful of chapters -- and mentioned it last year), just for the characterization alone. I absolutely love how their Kaidan(s) and Shepard(s) interact with each other, and the little details that turn out to be bigger than anyone would've guessed. I absolutely adore the ever-growing future that they've weaved into the story, as well as how they expanded the Mass Effect universe into something all their own. I'm really looking forward to seeing where the rest of the story goes.

@shockdowndefiance's A Momentary Lapse In Judgement. Though I really loved just about every work in their library (Allison Shepard my beloved) this one really stuck with me because it really examined the coup for what it was logically and what Bioware couldn't quite do, especially for a Kaidanmancing Shepard. Allison's universe extends Mass Effect something emotionally compelling, and this fic is probably one of the best examples of that. I still absolutely love how they resolved it, as well as how Allison's character really shines through here, both as Commander Shepard as well as -- well, a regular human being. It's painful at times, but also terribly comforting.

@swaps55's Sonata. I'm such a sucker for in-between moment Mass Effect stories, especially Shenko centered ones. Sam Shepard is such a compelling character, and his relationship with Kaidan is certainly one that makes you so very mushy on the inside. Swaps' writing style is something that'll suck you in and never quite let you go, and their attention to detail is something to be admired. (Which is why I was up until the middle of the night finishing it -- definitely worth the read!)

& (last but definitely not least)

@lyrishadow's Between Times. I still read it time to time just because it makes me happy and amuses me greatly. It was a birthday gift from them to me and it still makes me really happy. I really love how they weaved both of our Shepards together to write something so nice, and how they took the time out of their life to do it.

Writing Goals For 2022

Be less on myself about writing. I was genuinely feeling so guilty and completely paralyzed out of having any fun the entire months of October, November and December just because I hadn't gotten any substantial writing done. Which shouldn't be how I feel, writing is a hobby of mine. Just because I was more likely to reach for my stylus or even one of my games than I was my bookmark for my longfic doesn't mean I'm a failure, even if I would've liked to see more progress. I mean, hell I'm a high school student who's about to graduate in a couple months -- you'd think I'd be able to afford myself the same grace I give my peers.

(It's the validation. I live off of it. I shouldn't, but I do.)

Word Of Thanks

Thanking the lovely Lock + Key writers because you guys are lovely people, (@delinquest , @glyndwrwrites , @lnewmanwrites , @tayareum , @thesupremepuff + @colonelpknight [can't tag you]) thank you for going on such a wild ride with me this year, its been so freaking fun working with you all!

The lovely @mallaidhsomo for their contributions to Redamancy and all of the useful advice they've provided me with. Along with the rest of the Bioware Fanfiction server, I might not interact much but its a very comforting place to be. <3

@that-wasnt-so-bad + @kaidans-alenkos + @mariaalenkoshepard + @actualanxiousswampwitch + @oakstar519 for being the people I always love seeing in my notifs and inbox, and the people who always have the best headcanons for the canon characters and their own.

@sheyshen + @greencrusader13 + @anchanted-one + @naaklasolus for always being there to listen to my rambly nonsense in our development channel. And responding with your own OCs because I love them very much.

See the full post

27 notes - Posted December 31, 2021

My #1 post of 2022

"There is nothing stronger than a woman who rebuilt herself." - Hannah Gadsby.

-

Surprise! I'm your secret santa!! 🥳

My gift to @findingblissinignorance of their Ardelia Shepard!! I loved working on her because of her unique character and look, as well as the many tattoos you included on her pinterest board. Thank you for allowing me to draw her this year!

Happy Holidays! <3

45 notes - Posted January 15, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[jonaswpoetry]

Hi. I was just wondering if you had any tips for new Tumblr users to get their posts seen. I am a writer and want to post stories on my page. I tried doing that with a fic I wrote and had no luck in getting it seen in the tags I listed. Tried doing support and was left hanging. I created a new blog and want to post it there as a fresh start but don't want to redo the deletion and creation process over again. Any tips for a new user and writer?

Hello! Thank you for asking, it's always flattering even though I wouldn't consider my blog all that popular or successful tbh!

Tags are indeed fickle, I've been using the same ones for years out of habit (and perhaps a stubborn attempt at consistency) but have actually little faith that they are what bring in the notes. Getting attention to long-form writing is a real struggle on this site, but I'll try to help.

First, I'd recommend following lots of other writing blogs. They are likely to reciprocate, so very quickly your follower count (your effective audience) will grow. Interacting with them (whether just with likes, or with comments, questions, dms, w/e) will increase the likelihood of them following back and also of them actually checking out your work. Also, you'll benefit from having a whole load of writing on your own dash to read and learn from and be influenced by.

Second, write for prompt blogs. I really dig @nosebleedclub for their month prompts, and @writerscreed have been going for years with weekly prompts that can often teach you new ways of writing as well as giving a topic about which to write (although they are more often about poetry than prose). Write for them, tag them, and they'll kindly reblog your work to a far larger audience than your own. Keep it regular and people are more likely to take notice you, follow you, reblog your work themselves, etc.

I can't lie, I have zero clue how to make a blog become genuinely successful. I've been on this site since 2014 and have seen writers burst into popularity with seemingly little effort while others have posted quality content regularly for years without reaching notable counts of notes or followers. As I said above, I wouldn't consider my own blog or my writing to be all that popular, particularly in recent years (but that can be directly tied to the fact I hardly ever post writing anymore). One can only try, and hope.

If you do become disheartened and delete this new blog of yours then I won't blame you, but the reality is that it may take months or years before you get the level of engagement you're hoping for. The writing community here can offer a lot more than just likes and reblogs, and the value of your writing goes way beyond what either of those attempt to quantify. I wish the best of luck to you, and hope you stick around.