#i'm trying to find their voices so this was a fun exercise

[ispeakforthetrees19]

Puck Me

Summary: Hockey Player Levi and Figure Skating Coach Reader make a bet...who will win?

A/N: I can't stop writing this and I'm having too much fun with it to enjoy it alone. I suck shit at fancy Tumblr HTML and theme, but here it is.

This story is based on some of my own experiences as a figure skater. This will eventually feature smut, and I will update the tags as I go. I may update again this weekend. Thanks to my beta @nilfgaardianleviosa, as always.

Cross posted to AO3.

Tags: Levi Ackerman/Reader, AU-Modern Setting, Hockey Player Levi Ackerman, Figure Skater and Coach Reader, Enemies to Lovers, You know where this is going, this will be explicit in the future, 2nd person POV, female reader.

TW: bad words, fuckboys

Words: 2.7k

Chapter 1: Teaching Tots

You step out onto the ice with Petra, fresh and smooth after the Zamboni cleaned up from morning sessions. You bend your ankles, testing your laces to make sure they’re tight enough, and start skating around the rink, warming up against the cold air.

You do some basic footwork and finally you feel warm enough to take off your jacket, leaving you in leggings and a form-fitting long-sleeve shirt. Petra is at the boards when you skate up to hang your jacket on the side; she has her foot up, stretching out her hamstrings.

Public ice is pretty dead today, maybe ten or fifteen people in rental skates starting to get on and wobble their way around the ice as they cling to the wall. You smile at the toddler bravely making their way out to the center, holding onto the PVC pipe support that kids use to stay upright. His mom calls out to him, begging him to come back to where she can’t leave the wall, too unstable in the mediocre skates with limited ankle support.

“Wanna run through jumps?” Petra asks, smiling at you with her big, hazel eyes.

You shrug. “Sure.”

You and Petra each claim a side of the ice, doing crossovers to gain speed, running through your single jumps in order, then your doubles. You’re warm now, and you take off your shirt, grateful for the cool air to hit your arms and shoulders uncovered by the tank top you have underneath.

“Fuck, my double lutz is kicking my ass,” Petra complains as she finds her way next to you. “I just can’t get enough oomph on the entrance.”

“That’s because your toe picks are weak as fuck,” you laugh, pointing to her blades. “They aren’t big enough to really dig in and get you the momentum you need to get your ass in the air.”

“But your blades are so expensive,” Petra whines, looking down at your skates.

“Black Friday still happens for figure skaters,” you remind her. “It’s almost the holidays, why not put it on your Christmas list? Not like your dad can say no to you anyway.”

Petra laughs and pushes your shoulder. “Maybe I will. Hey, are you working on your triples?”

You grimace and shake your head. “A little. Waiting for the bruises on my hips to subside before I bruise them again.”

Petra’s about to respond when you hear loud voices whooping from across the ice. You turn to look at the hockey team getting on the ice and roll your eyes.

“God, the Titans,” Petra mutters. “Don’t they have practice later?”

You raise an eyebrow at her. “Tell me you aren’t already drooling over Ackerman being on the same sheet of ice as you.”

Her cheeks light up pink, and she shakes her head furiously. “No! It’s just—ugh, he’s so distracting.”

You laugh at her embarrassment, pulling her wrist to drag her away from the boards. “Come on, let’s work on our jumps before they take over the whole ice running drills.”

Petra pouts but follows, and you both run through some more doubles before the hockey team starts running exercises, tearing through the ice with their abrupt stops and deep edges.

Eventually, you give up trying to squeeze in practice and just skate around the rink with Petra, staying out of the hockey players’ way.

“I’m annoyed,” Petra pouts. “I wanted your help on my double axel.”

You shrug. “They’ll get off like thirty minutes before practice so they can gear up.”

“But the ice will be ruined!” Petra whines.

You laugh at her valid complaints. “Well, if you can learn to land a double axel on shitty ice, think about how well you’ll do in competition with fresh ice.”

Petra visibly debates your logic for a moment before nodding. “I can try.”

You’re about to suggest a break for hot chocolate and a protein bar when you hear, “Oh shit!” and something solid collides into you.

Arms wrap around your waist, and you turn mid-fall, your back pressed against firm muscle of someone’s chest as you go sliding across the ice.

“What the fuck?” you ask as the arms release you to roll onto the ice.

You look over to see Levi Ackerman himself, captain of the hockey team, groaning as he pulls himself off the ice. “For someone who looks as good as you do in tights, you sure weigh more than you look.”

You sit up, glaring at his smug expression. “Excuse me?”

“Just saying,” he mutters, getting to his feet. He extends a hand out to you to help you up and you swat it away, getting up yourself.

“Can you watch where the fuck you’re going?” you ask him bitterly.

“Can you? You know we’re running drills,” Levi says, crossing his arms at your rejection of his assistance.

“I was skating forward! You hit me from behind!” you protest. “How am I supposed to watch out when you sneak up on me?”

“Pay attention, princess,” Levi says mockingly. “It’s not just your ice.”

You’re absolutely fuming, ready to unleash on him, when you feel Petra’s hand on your arm.

“Are you okay?” she asks, noticing the snow in your hair.

“I’m fine,” you mutter, looking away from Levi’s piercing blue eyes. “Jackass knocked me off my feet.”

“Jackass?” Levi questions, irritation shining through his expression.

“Yeah,” you say emphatically. “Jackass. I think it’s perfect to describe you. Or do you prefer Captain Jackass?”

“Bitch,” he mutters, skating away back to his team who are carefully watching the interaction.

“Fucking hockey players,” you grumble to Petra, who loops her arm through yours as you start to skate around the rink again. “Think they own the ice. It’s not even time for their practice and they’re running drills, terrorizing the public skaters.”

“Yeah,” she says, unconvincingly. “Jerks. But hey, at least he broke your fall, right?”

You turn to look at her, mouth parted open in shock. “Seriously? He slammed into me from behind and you’re giving him brownie points for not knocking me unconscious?”

“Well,” Petra says sheepishly. “I saw him turn so that he fell against the ice and didn’t fall on top of you. He was going pretty fast.”

You press your mouth into a line, shaking your head. “You’re a simp, you know that? An Ackerman simp. He could burn this rink down and you’d still justify it, fawning over him.”

Petra protests and you giggle at her poorly crafted excuses. You shake your head, pulling her off the ice to the lobby, where it’s warm and loud.

“Hey,” your boss says, waving at you from the rental counter. “I know it’s not your day for Learn to Skate, but we need coverage on Saturday. Can you do it?”

“Miche, come on!” you whine, sighing dramatically. “I work two of the three sessions every week. Tuesdays and Thursdays. One day more than my contract actually says, because I’m so generous and nice.”

“It’s just the tots,” he says, eyes pleading.

“Miche, no!” you exclaim, unable to help the smile spreading across your face. “You know I hate teaching the little ones.”

“Come on,” he says. “I booked a trip out of town for Nanaba and I’s anniversary and I totally forgot she’s on Saturday rotation. Please, help me woo my wife and preserve my marriage.”

“Miche, you’re really a piece of work,” you sigh. “You know I can’t say no to helping my coach.”

“I knew there was a reason you’re Nanaba’s favorite,” he says with a smile. “Thank you so much!”

“You owe me!” you call over your shoulder, walking over to the viewing bench. “Man, I can’t believe I have to cover the tots. I hate that shit.”

“But they’re so cute,” Petra protests.

You groan at her utter betrayal. “No, they aren’t! They fall and cry, and cry and fall, for almost an hour. It’s horrible. I finally worked my way out of teaching tots.”

“It’s just one Saturday,” Petra consoles. “Plus, I’m on Saturdays too! We can get lunch after.”

You pout your lips out at her. “Fine. We can get lunch.”

Your blood is pumping as you skate down the rink, edges ripping into the ice as you precisely carve delicate swirls with your blades. Loud techno music plays over the speakers as you skate, all in perfect synchronicity with the other skaters as you do footwork.

“Faster!” Coach Pixis is sitting on the boards at the side of the rink, sipping from a water bottle that certainly isn’t filled with water.

You reach the goal line and circle back to run the same footwork back down the way you came. Power class continues like this for another twenty minutes until Pixis finally dismisses you, calling it “slightly less than abysmal this time”.

As he swings his legs over the boards to walk back to the lobby, you collapse onto the ice, chest heaving. Your best friend peers at you from where she stops beside you, eyes curious.

“You alright?” she asks, out of breath herself. Petra’s face is flushed after thirty minutes of on-ice cardio.

“So...sweaty,” you groan, enjoying the feeling of the cold against your overly warm skin. “Cold feels good.”

“You’re in a tank top, you’ll get ice burn if you don’t get up,” Petra chides. “Come on, it’s almost time for hockey practice anyway.”

You reach up a hand and she pulls you to your feet. You brush the snow off of your leggings and tell her you’ll catch up, grabbing your jacket and water bottle from the boards.

The hockey players spill onto the ice, immediately skating laps at high speed forward and backward around the rink, warming up. You purse your lips, annoyed that they couldn’t wait another fifteen seconds for you to grab your shit and get off, instead making it nearly impossible for you to reach the exit closest to the coach’s room, meaning you now have to walk around the entire rink from the bench.

You decide to wait them out, annoyed with their crappy behavior. You lean against the boards, your things in your arms, for the full five minutes, watching them, making eye contact, waving at one or two that you know.

They run laps until Commander Erwin calls for them to line up on the blue line in front of him. When he does, you leisurely skate behind the group of men to get off at the exit you wanted.

They all turn around to watch you, evidently surprised you didn’t chew them out like usual for doing this. You smile at them, your eyes finding Levi’s from where he’s smirking at you. You raise an eyebrow at him and exit the ice, feeling him watch you until you disappear behind the bleachers.

Petra is inside the coach’s room already, unlacing her skates as she sits in her assigned chair. You sit in your spot next to her, following suit.

“Ugh, did you see Levi?”

You roll your eyes at Petra’s simpering expression and wide, hazel eyes.

“Why are you such a simp for him? For any hockey player? They’re dicks and they smell bad,” you complain.

“Not Levi,” she says with a dreamy look on her face. “Remember? He helped me when I cut my hand.”

“He wrapped a dirty hockey rag around your hand and told you to stop bleeding on his ice,” you say flatly. “He’s not exactly a knight in shining armor.”

Petra continues on, dithering about how Levi is, in fact, kind of an asshole but if you look past his harsh words, sour attitude, huge ego, and generally rude demeanor, there’s probably a decent guy in there. Yeah, okay.

You slip on your tennis shoes and pull Petra out to the lobby, grabbing a Gatorade and a protein bar from the concession stand.

“Let’s sit on the bleachers,” Petra says, trying to be nonchalant.

“Because we don’t spend enough time here, let’s go watch the hockey players on our break?” you ask sarcastically.

But it’s hard to say no to Petra, with her wide eyes and pouty lips. So you cave, agreeing to go sit on the bleachers, grateful for the cool metal against your back as you lay against the bench. Petra sits at attention, watching the players skate up and down the ice, practicing formations and plays.

“He’s looking over here!” she practically squeals.

You roll your eyes, scrolling through Spotify for a bass-laden playlist to mentally prepare for spending an hour with the tots later this morning.

There’s a loud crash against the boards and you jump, nearly falling off the bench. You shoot up, glaring at the plexiglass, behind which stands a smug Levi Ackerman, smirking at you. He raises an eyebrow at you and shrugs, feigning innocence. How mature, hitting the boards to startle you.

Petra gives you a sidelong glance, a slight furrow in her brows as you roll your eyes at Levi who’s wiggling the fingers in his glove in a semblance of wave. For which you return a middle finger, setting off a round of laughs between his teammates.

You look over at her with a raised eyebrow, wondering what she’s so concerned about, but she shakes her head and turns back to face the ice, eyes watching intently as they start running drills.

Later, you teach the tots a fun fishing game, where they pull out fish from the ‘pond’ you drew on the ice with a marker, and then you teach them how to skate away according to the type of fish they caught. It’s nearly time to go, and the class has been surprisingly smooth.

However, as your last student pulls out a “big fish! So big and scary!”, and you all skate backwards away from it, doing swizzles on their unsteady little feet, your smallest skater falls.

Oh fuck, here we go.

He looks up at you with wide eyes, lip trembling as he clutches his hand to his chest. He’s two feet tall, you know he’s fine, but he thinks he’s hurt, so you let out a quiet sigh and kneel next to him.

“Oh bud, that was a big fall,” you say empathetically, pulling off your gloves and taking his ‘injured’ hand between yours. “You did great though.”

“I did?” he asks tearfully, clearly wanting to have a huge meltdown but also wanting to hold it together to earn your praise.

“You did,” you confirm with a nod. “You know what I do when I hurt myself from falling? I take a big deep breath, and I shake the ouch out. Have you ever done that?”

He shakes his head no, eyes wide, and you smile at him, a little charmed by his chubby cheeks.

“Hey, isn’t that the chick you nearly took out on public the other day?” Eren nods to the ice as he throws his bag over his shoulder coming out of the locker room. “Is she a coach?”

Levi looks over and sees you kneeling down on the ice, holding the hands of a tot who must have taken a fall. He watches you shake out your hands, and the little boy imitates you. You throw your head back to laugh at the boy’s enthusiasm, quickly wiggling his whole body, and take his hand to pull him back to the other tots who have been watching curiously.

You lead them in a line that snakes around the designated area until you reach the door of the rink, making sure they all get off and into the waiting arms of their parents.

He catches your eye, thinking about how pretty you look when you aren’t flipping him off or cussing him out. You give him a hesitant smile before you’re pulled into a conversation with one of the parents.

Eren is looking at him, mouth open as he watches Levi watch you. “Uh, hello?”

Levi looks at him blandly. “Yeah, yeah. She must be a coach if she’s teaching Learn to Skate.”

Eren raises an eyebrow at him. “You look like you’re down bad. For a figure skating coach, of all people.”

“Fuck off, Yeager,” Levi says, pushing him into the wall as he heads for the doors.

[bonebabbles]

TEQ: 11, 12, 13

Chapter 11,

Leafstar falls asleep during Kitescratch's vigil, in a way that suggests she was so tired she essentially passed out. Kite's mom, Reedclaw, has had enough of Leaf's inability to lead and calls the vote.

There's a bundle of fun little character moments. Ridgeglow tries to tell Birchfeather to vote to get rid of Leaf, but Hawkwing says no and Birch is VERY grateful. Medcats Fidgetflake and Frecklewish vote in lockstep. Fallowfern is the deciding vote and has to take a moment to figure out what the hell is going on because she can't hear.

Reedclaw's vote to oust Leafstar fails, but she vows that this isn't over.

Chapter 12,

Moonpaw's sinister voice is getting more malevolent.

It's agreed she can come to the Moonpool to figure out if she's capable of having visions or not. I like the way that Alder and Jay are giving her lots of chances to try out the duties before actively committing to it, I'd like to think it's because both of them had been forced into the role the moment they had difficulties as a warrior. They don't want that forced on her in a similar way.

She sees her dead sister in her reflection again, giving her an evil look, and tries to swat the water. SPLASH! INTO THE DRINK WITH YE!

Alder and Jay decide this counts as a vision.

Jayfeather: "Next time, do not try to attack your visions. This is not BB, you can't just do that, and even if it WAS BB only I'm cool enough to do that."

Moonpaw: "please. Bones doesn't even rewrite arcs until they're done"

As Moonpaw tries to fall asleep, the voice in her head calls her cringe and tells her to quit being a doctor. Moonpaw tells her to shut up because she's the one fronting. "BET!" the voice laughs maniacally.

Chapter 13,

Tigerheartstar is REALLY snappish and controlling.

Puddleshine is telling the story of how Moonpaw got dunk tanked, to everyone's delight, and then the conversation gets grim as it turns to human activity. There's worry that the Moonpool will be destroyed or the Clans will be forced to do another Great Journey.

Tigerheartstar asserts that what happened in the old territory was different. If the Moonpool is destroyed they will find a new way to connect to StarClan. He then angrily shuts the conversation down.

Tawnypelt then decides to go visit Birchfeather, and asks his parents if they want her to relay any messages. Dovewing is visibly sad, and is about to say something when Tigerheartstar interrupts her and snaps that they're exercising "tough love" and won't be acknowledging him until he comes home.

Jeez. THAT feels odd for him. It's going beyond "acting understandably unreasonable out of hurt" and crossing over into active control tactics.

Anyway, Tawnypelt goes to see her grandbaby. He shares news that he hasn't had any trials because the Clan voted to depose Leafstar. When asked why, he shares the secondhand story of the badger attack, leaving out major details because he (admittedly) wasn't there. Tawny says that anyone could have mistaken a cat for a badger. tawny, no.

[braindancer]

14, 17 and 22 for the ship asks

Aaaah thanks so much bestie! Sorry this took ages. I'm gonna answer the other 2 in separate posts, but here's Prompt 14 for the soft ship questions!

14- Write about your ship celebrating their anniversary.

Guitar strings yowled like starving cats. The noise shot through Romy's ears straight into her brain. She jerked and twisted, legs tangling in itchy sheets, and crammed her head beneath the musty motel pillow. The guitar wailed on, too close, too loud. "Good morning." A synthetic voice crackled. It nearly drowned beneath the racket. Something almost like a melody formed in the harsh, twangy sound, but Romy couldn't place it. With both hands she held the pillow tight against her head so that it blocked both of her ears. It didn't help much. She sat up and glared through locks of stringy, bleached-white hair. There was a robot at the foot of her bed. It strummed at an ancient electric guitar, and the guitar screeched in protest. Its chrome-plated head bobbed to a steady beat that its fingers refused to follow. The late afternoon sun, shining hot and bright through crooked slaps in the window shades, glinted against its featureless faceplate. It was wearing her leather jacket. "Rustbucket?" Romy croaked, voice heavy with sleep. "What gives?" "You are being serenaded." Said the robot. There were no inflections in its voice, so every word sounded serious. "Do not be alarmed." "Couldja knock it off?" It pinched off one last note and fell silent. Romy breathed a sigh of relief. She let the pillow fall and swung her scrawny legs over the side of the bed. When her feet hit the floor, something crunched. Please, she thought, don't be a roach.

Romy rubbed the crust and old mascara from her eyes. She looked down. "Uhh... Buck? Why's the floor covered in leaves?" "I could not acquire rose petals," Rustbucket said. "I had to improvise." "Huh." was all Romy could think to say. The leaves were dried and dead, curling in on themselves and browning at the edges. They trailed from her bedside to the wobbly vinyl table on the other side of the motel room. There a candle burned, melted wax grafting it to the center of the table. On either side, place were set with red solo cups and plastic takeout cartons. What drew her eye most was the champagne. It sat there glistening against flickering candlelight in a crystalline bottle. Judging by the size of the anti-theft lock still clamped to its neck, it must've been expensive. Romy crossed the room in two steps, ignoring the foliage that stuck to the soles of her feet. She picked up the bottle and tossed it from one hand to another. It had a good weight to it. "La Perle des Alpes," she read from its label. A little red light blinked a warning at her from the security cap. Romy whistled. "Good shit. What's the occassion?" Rustbucket set the guitar down on the bed and rose to its feet. It wasn't just wearing her coat, she saw, but her good boots too. The steel-toed ones that were only a little bit scuffed. They looked glossier than usual, as did the bot's face and its bare chestplate. In the corner of her eye, amid the clutter of tools and empty soda cans on one of the side-tables, she spotted an opened tub of car wax. "It has been three hundred and seventy-five days since you hit me with your car." "Oh, yeah…" Romy rubbed the back of her neck with one hand. "Sorry about that." It shook its head. The sprockets at the base of its neck only squeaked a little bit - it had greased its joints recently, too. "No," it said, "I am grateful." "That I hit you with my car?" Rustbucket tilted its head. Gears whirred softly in its electric brain. After a time, it said, "I am grateful that you came back for me." Romy snorted a surprised laugh. Something skipped in her chest, and her cheeks went hot. That stupid, giddy feeling bubbled up inside her, like a can of NiCola that'd been shook up too many times. Like the warbling tune the robot played for her, she couldn't pin down exactly what it was. No one else made her feel quite like it. Normally she'd squash the feeling down with a sharp twinge of shame. For all the joy it brought her, and all the days it made just a little less lonely, she knew that this was a machine. It was all wires and gears and generous amounts of duct tape. It was also her best friend. Had it really only been a year? She felt as though she'd known it all her life. "Me too," she said, and meant it. She raised the bottle above her head, as though in a toast. Its anti-theft lock beeped ominously. "Go grab me the hammer and the bolster chisel, will ya? Let's crack this baby open and celebrate."

[writers-potion]

What is the fastest way to improve greatly at writing?

Fast-Forwarding Your Writing Skills

Developing your writing skills take only two things: READ A LOT, WRITE A LOT.

The question is, how do you read a lot and write a lot, in a relatively short period of time?

The first rule: don't give up. It may seem really slow now, but everyone can get better at writing. I know this advice is really stale, but it's one that I've told myself over and over again - just so that I can push through another slow evening.

Here are some things I have tried to get better at writing:

Memorizing quotes/passages/poems that I like. The things that I memorize would come back to me when I'm stuck mid-sentence, and I would try to do something similar. Sounds like plagiarism? Well, copying other authors' styles and mix-matching them is actually an important process of finding your own voice.

Conducting a "plot analysis". I was inspired by the method outlined in the book for this one. After you finish a book, make a list of all the scenes and try placing them into a three-act structure. This will help you (1) familiarize yourself with plot dynamics that work (2) understand your genre better.

Reading a book more than once. Honestly, all of my first reads are just for the story. I gobble the plot up, without paying attention to anything much. On my subsequent reads, I'm able to pay more attention to the way descriptions are done, or how the chapters are divided, etc.

Copying a book by hand, word-by-word. So far the most inefficient method (haha), but this exercise does help you pay A LOT more attention to how the author is using diction, syntax, dialogue, etc. to actually "construct" a book.

I hope this helps! :) If you're reading this and have tips of your own, please comment! >>

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

💎If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! Also, join my Tumblr writing community for some more fun.

💎Before you ask, check out my masterpost part 1 and part 2 

[manikas-whims]

“will you be able to calm down if i tie your hands together?”

— Part 1/? of turning Xavier's questionable dialogues into short fics.

It was over.

You knew you were fucked the moment you saw a genuine flash of annoyance in Xavier’s usually serene, midnight blue eyes. In your defense, you were always messing with him, poking and prodding as you pleased because it was just so fun seeing his varied reactions and attempts to hold back his blush. And you thought it was alright to do so because he let you. He always let you.

But oh how wrong you had been.

One minute you were poking his neck with feather light touches of your finger tips, the next your wrists were bound together in front of you with an old scarf that had been lying on your coffee table for only god knows how many weeks.

Your eyes widened in realization of the situation you were in, and you fidgeted your hands in hopes of loosening the knot. “Xa–Xavier..”

The man in question tightened the knot ever so slightly in response, his lips curved up into a stern smile. “I’d warned you. Remember?”

Of course you remembered. How he had warned you that he'd tie up your hands if you don't stop with the teasing. Plenty of times in fact. You'd just never considered the possibility of him actually doing it. Quite literally at that!

You watched him scoot closer to you on the couch. Gone was the adorable bunny you loved pinching and patting. In this moment, he appeared nothing short of a lethal predator slowly prancing towards the unassuming and docile prey that you were.

You scooted away until your back hit the armrest and there was no room left to escape. You grinned sheepishly. “Is it too late for an apology?”

He scoffed, an eyebrow raised in amusement. “Playing innocent now, are you?”

You nodded meekly, your cheeks heating up. “Yes, um..I'm sorry??”

Unfortunately that didn't work at all.

“Since you're so free with your hands, how about I exercise some liberty as well?” He grabbed your tied wrists with one palm and lifted them over your head, his face now leaning closer to your own. His other palm slid along your neck, fingers stroking the skin torturously slowly. “How would you feel if I did this regularly?”

Your lips parted yet no words came out. And you tried to find some semblance of calm with deep intakes of breaths. “Xavier I..”

He ignored the plea in your voice, letting his palm go higher up your jaw, running his long fingers along the plumpness of your lips. “Understand that there are consequences to your actions. Dire consequences.”

He inched his face closer and your breath hitched, eyes fluttering closed of their own accord, anticipating those dire consequences he had been forewarning you about.

To your surprise, nothing happened for a few moments. And you wondered if this was how those small animals in documentaries felt when they were toyed with before being devoured by a beast.

You felt a tugging sensation upon your cheek and let out a soft sound, your eyes shooting open to realize the tugging was a result of Xavier's fingers on your cheek.

He pinched the cheek just hard enough to make you wince before letting go and chuckled triumphantly. “Just messing with you.”

Then he smoothly scooted away and picked up his book as if the events of the last few minutes hadn't occurred at all. As if you hadn't witnessed his personality switching at all. As if the entire thing had existed merely in your fantasies.

And when your breaths finally calmed a little, you realized your wrists were still tied up. You began fidgeting your hands again, your captive fingers helplessly trying to reach for the knot. “Xavier you! At least untie my hands!”

You only received another chuckle response.

this is very self-indulgent..Xavier Girlies look forward to more of these..✌️😆

» MASTERLIST «

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

The Fun Kind of Sparring Pt. 2

Soldier Boy (The Boys) x Reader

(Aka minors do NOT interact with this post)

A/N: Sooooooo… did ya miss me?? Heh. My down stairs brain has been exercised, that’s for sure. Took five but now I’m trying to change lives 💪

Anyways, as always, all interaction, especially commentary/tags, is extremely appreciated! It really makes my day to hear that people like what I’m putting out there.

Content Warning: 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ If you thought the last one was diddle-that-skittle-worthy, this one… I think I’m going to need to take a cold shower. I mean, my man doesn’t stop talking. I will say he’s really sweet to the reader. A few things he says sound more like him in canon, but overall he’s really sweet. Look, guys, life is lifing rn so I just needed a sweet hot old man to talk me through it 🤷‍♀️

****************************************************

Previously on The Fun Kind of Sparring

"Good girl," he praises, and it's all I can do not to keen. I have to be soaked through my shorts by now, there's no way. "Well, what l'd do next... that's simple. I'd fuck her until she cried, and then I'd keep going. And I'd keep going until the only thing she can remember is my name, until she's gooey and clingy and a sweet little fucked out thing, all for me," he finishes, his grin from before returning back to his face. I'm losing it. I can't think straight. And yet- he's still waiting for me to make the first move. Son of a bitch.

"O-okay," I clear my throat, unable to find my senses. "And if that hypothetical girl was me?" We both know it's me, I just need to hear it.

"Well in that case I think l'd be the luckiest bastard who ever lived," he says sincerely, looking at me with a gaze that can only be described as pure adoration and lust. Yep. That's it for me. I lean up and kiss him with as much force as I can muster.

A strand of spit connects our lips when we part, and if I hadn’t heard him say all those dirty things I’d think it was the most erotic thing imaginable. It’s certainly a close second, though.

He crashes his lips back to mine once the strand breaks, demanding access that I could never be strong enough not to give. He explores my mouth with great fervor, silencing the small whimpers and whines trying to tear themselves from my throat. Once he’s sure I’m breathless he moves down, planting a row of kisses to my jaw before kissing down my neck, biting and sucking dark marks at the juncture of my neck and shoulder.

But through the lust induced haze that’s already clouding my brain I can only remember one thing.

“Uh, Ben?” my voice is unrecognizable, breathy and high.

“Yeah?” He says into my collarbone where he’s been leaving more love bites.

“What about you? Don’t you get to come in the story?”

“Oh, you’re sweet on me, huh, baby? Don’t you worry about me sweet girl, that’ll come later- no pun intended.”

“Oh, okay,” I mumble, tugging him up by the hair so I can kiss him again. “I could kiss you forever,” I say. And it sounds stupid, but his plush pink lips are just too good to be true.

“That can be arranged, sweetheart,” he smirks, leaning down to kiss me again. There’s just no feeling like it. I reach for the hem of his grey sweatpants, but he grunts, pulling away. I look at him, eyes wide with confusion.

“Sugar, as much as I’d love to give some sad sap the chance of walking in on this, I think it’s better we move this to my room.”

“Oh, okay,” I concede.

“Trust me,” he says, almost… shifty? Whatever. I’m too horny to decipher his gaze at the moment. I let him all but pick me up off the floor, and I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror embellished wall: my face is sweaty and splotchy, hair already a wreck, hickies everywhere on my neck and shoulders. Holy hell. I haven’t even gotten laid yet, and I look like I went nine rounds in a porno. Motherfucker. Me-fucker, in a minute. Good god.

“I think I’m an artist,” he says smugly from behind me, admiring the blues and purples on my neck and shoulders, and catching my gaze in the mirror. He presses his bulge to my ass, at which I gasp. He’s huge. I can already tell. How the fuck does he even-? I don’t even know how I’m going to finish that question.

“C’mon sweetheart, my room ain’t far.”

“Okay,” I mumble, stuck on the absent feeling of his bulge against me. “But the floor was so hot,” I pout.

“Don’t I know it, sweets,” he grins. “But I’ve got big plans for you, if you remember.”

I moan softly at the memory of his dirty words

“Attagirl.” The shit eating grin from before is right back on his face. “Now c’mon, sweets,” he tugs my hand in his, practically dragging me out of the gym. Before I know it I’m laying on my back in his soft bed, him over me. He somehow kisses me both soft and slow, and rough and fast, and it’s almost impossible to breath. Especially as he adds more to the canvas he’s made of my body.

“Can I?” he asks, tugging at the hem of my shirt. I nod, and pulls it up over my head, obviously enjoying what he finds under it.

“Of course my pretty girl has pretty tits too, I shouldn’t even be surprised, but”-he kisses the tops of each of my breasts-“damn, baby.”

I blush at his praise, unable to help myself. “Can I take off this cute little bra?” he asks.

“Mhm,” I say, hoping that he’ll just rip it off. But instead of being raucous he gently unclasps it from behind, teasing it off of me. He trails lower with his lips, lavishing my breasts in attention that leaves them perky and alert once he leaves them for my stomach.

I can’t help but start giggling at the feeling of his scratchy beard on my stomach as he continues his trek of kisses and such southward. “What’s funny?” he asks, obviously amused by my laughter. I can only giggle harder because he seems to catch on, now intentionally scratching at me with it. He starts kissing lower and lower, and eventually my giggles dissolve into moans as he nips at the juncture of my thigh and pelvis.

“So sweet,” he mumbles, tugging at the waist band of my shorts. He pulls both them and my underwear off in one go. “Oh, sweets,” he breathes. “You this wet all for me?”

I squeak, unable to respond to the dark, lust-filled look in his eyes as he asks. Thankfully the question is rhetorical, because my brain is already starting to get fuzzy.

He gingerly pulls off my shoes and socks, before pressing featherlight kisses to and massaging up my left leg. Just as he reaches my sopping heat does he stop, biting the squishy flesh of the inside of my thigh before returning back down on my right leg.

“Ben,” I whine impatiently, unsure of how much more of this teasing I can take before I just come without him doing anything.

He just tuts at me before continuing his ministrations. And good grief does he know what buttons to press, because my legs already feel like jello in his hands.

Finally he bites my other thigh, and I’m all but shaking with how eager I am for him to do something, anything to me. And he seems to be more than happy to comply.

“Listen, if you tell me to stop, I’ll stop,” he says roughly, sincerely, as his cheek rests against the inside of my thigh.

“O-okay?” I say, my tone far past breathy.

“That’s my girl,” he grins before diving in.

It’s like nothing I’ve felt before. It feels like he’s lit orgasmic fireworks, like far too much and not enough all at once, like… it’s fucking inexplainable. Especially while I’m physically squirming from how good it feels, while he only needs one big hand splayed over my stomach to keep me down. I couldn’t even tell you what I’m moaning between the incoherent mess of his one syllable name and the whines he’s pulling out of me.

It’s incredible. And he’s so methodical, so good at it. Eighty odd years of experience will do it to you I guess, but this is like, next level.

And before I know it my stomach is tightening in on itself, and I try to warn him. I really do. But he doesn’t even need me to warn him. Instead he takes his hand off my stomach and places both on either of my thighs, locking me in place around his head. And before I know it, his tongue thrusting in and out of me and his nose and facial hair rubbing on my clit have me coming with a loud cry of his name. I’m physically shaking by the end of it from how he continues to fuck me through it, lapping up every last drop.

The thing about Ben is that he does everything with great fervor. Passion, really, except he thinks that’s too feminine a word. There just has to be a certain exceptionality to the way he does things. When he snorts a line of coke, the line had better be four times longer than anyone else’s. When he performed back in the day, it had to be more grandiose than Queen, more ostentatious than Madonna. When he eats pussy, it has to be fucking leagues ahead of any other man or woman in the entire world.

And man oh man does he deliver. I think I come again, but it’s hard to tell from how intense the initial orgasm was and how fuzzy the overstimulation is making my brain. But he eventually pulls back, once again resting his stubbled cheek on the inside of my thigh, my come glistening on his jaw and mouth. It’s a sight of debauchery in its purest-or should I say filthiest- form. I’m panting, trying to ground myself as he smugly smirks at me, his greens eyes sparkling like cut emeralds.

“Y’like that, sweetheart?” he asks, knowing damn well I do. And yes, he’s cocky as fuck, but… he’s not wrong.

“Yes,” I mumble.

“Good girl,” and at that I clench around nothing. And he does not fail to notice.

“Aww, my sweet girl likes being a good girl,” he observes, languidly running a knuckle through my folds. I gasp, and he chuckles. “Easy.”

He surprises me by thrusting one finger in- and like he said, it wouldn’t do much with how wet I was. So he gives me a second, and I start to feel it, especially when he hits my g-spot on every languid thrust, eliciting tinny moans from me. The tinny moans get louder when he starts scissoring his fingers inside of me, opening me up as far as he sees fit. “Gotta get you ready for me,” he explains, spitting on his other hand before brining his thumb to my clit. I’m beyond fucked once the rough pad of his thumb meets my sensitive bud, gasping his name and arching my back.

“You’re taking ‘em so well, sweet girl. Gonna give you another,” he tells me before adding a third finger and rubbing on my clit even faster. I barely last three minutes of this before I come for the second-third?- time with a weak cry of his name, still ready for more. I’m flustered from how easy it was to make me come, and his words certainly don’t soothe my blush.

“Oh, look at this pretty pussy gushin’ f’me, she’s too good to me,” he groans, slowly thrusting his fingers in and out to prolong my bliss. “Aww sweet girl, why’re you embarrassed, huh? I think my new favorite color is pink cause of your sweet cheeks. My pretty girl, my perfect girl.”

My mind is so fuzzy. Ben- Soldier Boy- is literally praising me whereas he calls anyone else a disappointment or a whore. And he’s making me feel so good, not only because of the incredible sex but with the way he’s treating me.

He kisses me again before he stands up, and I can taste myself on him. I don’t mind though, because his lips, his tongue… I can hardly account for my senses, much less comprehend the taste of myself. He stares at me and finally takes the waistband of his sweatpants in his hands. I can’t help the way my jaw drops as he finally pulls them and his boxers down, and naturally he gives me his signature smirk.

The bottom line is that he’s even bigger than I had thought earlier. Like, this is a size I thought only dildos came in, not the real thing. It’s long, it’s thick, and it’s rock hard. His eyes are trained on mine, so naturally he catches me gaping and laughs. Jackass.

“You know that not all of that is going to fit, right?” I ask, a little nervous.

“We’ll see about that,” he says, cocksure. I can’t help but gulp involuntarily, but once he brings his lips back down to mine I’m right back into my whipped frenzy, pouting and following his lips like a puppy when he pulls away, rummaging in his bedside drawer but talking all the while.

“Don’t worry, m’gonna give you what you want, just gotta ease you into it, okay? Ain’t gonna treat you like a loosened whore, I could never. My sweet girl. Didn’t bring you in here for nothing, wanted this.” He holds up a small bottle, and that’s when I get it. He needed the damn lube. That’s why he wanted to come back here. Not a big connection, but for someone who’s ready to let him doin all sorts of unspeakable things to her and thank him for it, it’s a revolutionary revelation.

“Oh-oh,” I say, my voice breaking when I watch him fist himself a few times.

“Gonna make it feel so good for you,” he mumbles, rubbing a generous amount of lube up and down his length. As if it hasn’t already been beyond good. “Tell you what, baby, I want you to ride me, just to start. Y’can adjust on your own time, take it as slow as you need, okay sweet girl? ‘Cause if I’m on top… I don’t think I can make any promises.” At least he’s honest. The horny part of me wants him to just go ahead and rail me within an inch of my life, but the small, annoying, rational part of me recognizes how huge he is. He sits down next to me on the bed, comfortably resting against the pilos and the headboard. His legs are splayed, showing off the endearing curve to them.

It takes a lot out of my already fucked out self to move two inches and straddle him, but I do. He smiles, genuinely smiles, and I can’t help but smile back.

“Take it easy, sweet girl,” he tells me. “We’ve got all night. You just take all the time you need.” I’m so turned on by how sweet he is, I genuinely can’t even help it.

“Okay,” I mumble, reaching for his cock, feeling it in my hands. It’s just a little thicker than the grip of one of my hands- definitely thicker than anything I’ve ever had, but not as scary as I thought. I rub the leaking precum over his tip, because even though he’s already poured a more than generous amount of lube on himself I can’t be too sure. Not to mention the delicious gasps he’s making at every touch are enough to just do this for the next six hours.

But finally, finally I’m ready. I position myself over it, my arms encircling Ben’s wide, freckled shoulders.

And then I slowly, ever so slowly sink down on the tip. We both moan at the newfound sensation, and I physically have to stop for a second. He’s just so big. All of him is, from his ego to his overall stature, but inside me? He’s huge, and the stretch is beyond satiating.

“You okay, sweets?” he asks, recovering quicker than me.

“Yeah,” I whisper.

“Good girl,” he kisses me on the lips. The distraction of the kiss lets me move more comfortably down his length. I make it a little bit more before I have to stop again. “You’re squeezing me so good, this pussy was made for me,” he groans when I stop, and I hide my own noises into the crook of his shoulder.

“Ben?” I mumble.

“Yeah?”

“I need help,” I whine, keeping my face hidden to hide my embarrassment.

“Aww, sweetpea,” he lets out a small laugh despite himself, furthering my angry red blush. “C’mere, look at me,” I do as he says, my thighs sore from keeping me up as I do so.

“No need to be embarrassed with me, sugar,” he says softly, before bring my lips to his, a big hand cupping the side of my head. I barely notice his other hand on my hip until he slowly starts guiding me down on him, lifting me up and down where I’m and pushing me down further and further as he does so. He muffles my whimpers and whines into the kiss, kissing me so long that I forget what it’s like to breathe.

Once he’s bottomed out and I’m properly seated on his lap does he pull away, letting me moan as loud as I need to.

“How do you feel?” he asks, his own voice strained.

“Full,” I mumble, because it’s true. He’s so all consuming in this moment, all I can concentrate on is how he fills me to the brim.

He twitches inside of me at that, his brow furrowed.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Nothin’ baby, you just can’t be throwing around words like that,” he groans.

“You asked,” I protest.

“I know,” he retorts, kissing me again. After a few moments of sitting there on his lap, I tell him I’m ready to move a little.

“You need help, sweets?” he asks, giving me a knowing look. And I want to say no, that much is probably written on my face. Want to show him that I’m capable of bouncing on his enormous cock, but I sincerely don’t think I am.

“Maybe,” I concede sheepishly.

“That’s okay, baby,” he smiles gently, grabbing me by the hips. He slowly lifts me up his length, and I can feel my walls trying to contract around him as he moves me up, clenching him like a vice. A soft groan leaves his lips whilst various whimpers leave mine.

He keeps this gentle pace, so slow that I can feel every single inch of him slide in and slip out. Slowly the burn from the initial stretch disipates into pure pleasure that leaves me whispering his name every time he bottoms out. But eventually it’s not enough, because the thoughts of his promises creep into my empty mind, his promises of fucking me. Until I cry, until I can only remember his name and nothing else.

“Ben,” I mumble, my head still resting in the crook of his neck as he eases me up and down. “I’m ready.”

“Ready for what, pretty girl?”

Jackass. He knows damn well what, I can hear it in his voice. “I don’t want to say it,” I whine. He pulls me back so we’re eye to eye, resting me on his lap.

“I think you’re gonna have to,” he’s grinning ear to ear.

I pout, my hands resting on his chest.

“C’mon baby,” he prods, thumbing my lower lip. I take his thumb into my mouth, sucking on it. It clearly takes a lot out of him to take his finger out of my mouth, he seems to be turned on by the action.

“Fine. I want you to fuck me,” I tell him, crossing my arms.

“You’re lucky I like you so much. If anyone else were acting this bratty with me I think I’d have to teach them a lesson,” he smirks, the cocky promise clear in his eyes. Before I can retort he slips out of me, and I whine at the emptiness. I don’t like it.

Thankfully I don’t have to wait long because he lays me down, resting over me in a plank just as he was when we were “sparring.”

“Y’trust me?” His thumb comes up to meet my pulse point, his other fingers grazing across the bitten flesh of the juncture of my neck and shoulder, creating the most delicious sting. I nod frantically. “Words, baby.”

“Yes,” I whisper. His presses down barely a fraction harder, and yet it’s already enough to set me off even while being empty.

“I need you to promise me something, gorgeous,” he says, making the most intense eye contact I’ve ever seen from him.

“Okay,” I whisper.

“If you need me to stop, you tell me, okay?” His eyes are slightly wide, indicating how important to him this is. It’s easy to say: “Okay,” he has all of my trust. I kiss him for good measure, and we’re back. Fireworks gone off again halfway through as I take initiative to deepen the kiss before he can. But it doesn’t matter, because he’s stronger and so all consuming, and before I know it my mind is blank again. Blank and wanting one thing: him.

He gets up and I whine, not wanting him away from him. “Miss me already? My clingy girl,” he says affectionately, grabbing a pillow and putting it under my hips, kissing my stomach.

Settling above me once again, he lifts my legs up so that my ankles are resting on his shoulders, nearly bending me in half. But I let him, I’ll be as malleable ad he needs me to be if it’ll help him deliver on those promises.

“You sure you want this, sweets? Last chance to back out,” he tells me. I can’t believe he has the audacity to let the thought of me wanting to back out cross his mind. I’ve never wanted anyone more than I want him.

“I’m so sure. Fuck me, please,” I tell him. This is the strongest my voice has been this far, and I think he gets the memo.

“As you wish,” he grins, before sheathing himself in me in one go. I scream his name, but the noise is cut off by all air leaving my body as he thrusts into me at a literal superhuman pace. The sounds are ungodly, with every thrust a broken moan and the occasional grunt from him. He finds my g-spot with ease, slamming into it with every thrust ad he pounds me into his mattress.

“You sounds so pretty, maybe we should look into making one of those Internet videos.” I moan at the idea. I didn’t think starring in a porno would be my thing until he and his transatlantic 1950s accent suggested it.

“Yeah, everyone would want a piece of this pussy. But she’s all mine,” those last three words are punctuated with particularly hard, possessive thrusts that leave me gasping his name.

He brings his hand up to my throat once more, and the moment his thumb grazes my pulse point as it did before I realize just how much I want to come. “You like that, huh. Such a good girl,” I clench around him as he presses light pressure to my throat, and even though he’s not even done anything with my clit and it’s been maybe two minutes I’m coming hard and all-consumingly. It washes over me in waves that match Ben’s pace, seemingly getting more intense as he keeps fucking me.

“Oh sweetheart, you look so gorgeous when you make a mess of my dick. I’m hopin’ to see that five more times before the end of the night,” he tells me, but I barely hear him, too engulfed in my pleasure. He somehow adjusts the pillow under me while continuing his incessant pace and his grip on my throat and the new angle has me crying from how good it is.

“Aww, what’s the matter sweets?” he coos, knowing damn well what the matter is. It’s just too good.

“You’re so deep,” I sob, unable to gain my bearings because of how full I feel.

“Don’t I know it,” he groans, going impossibly harder. Eventually he takes his hand from my throat, and I whine, until he brings it down to my clit.

“Make it a good one, beautiful,” he winks with a click of his tongue before skillfully rubbing circles into my sensitive bud.

“Ben, it’s too much-,” I protest, but all it takes is a few more circles and I’m coming undone around him again. I’m both hyperaware of my tears soaking my face and the burn from the position of my legs but also on the verge of unconsciousness with how good it all feels. My legs are quivering around him but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“You’re okay, sweet girl, taking it so well,” he mumbles against my lips, kissing away my tears. I’d never had a lay so good that the guy had to reassure me that I was okay because I was shaking and crying uncontrollably from just how good it was. But then again, prior to tonight, I’d never had a lay with Ben.

He quickly brings me to the edge again, his fingers fast on my clit and his thrusts deeper than ever. When I come I can’t say his name, I can’t say much of anything because my mind is blank. Fuzzy, syrupy, I feel almost soft while the only noises I can make are little whimpers as he just keeps going. And I fucking love it.

“‘m gonna come,” he warns, and I muster enough of my bearings to tell him ‘please.’ He gladly obliges, coming with a loud grunt of my name, bottoming out so far inside me that he may damn well be in my cervix. I can feel it leaking out of me, and even in my fucked out stupor I can remember to moan. It’s the hottest feeling I’ve ever felt. He slowly pulls out then, gently easing my legs down.

I look up at him with questioning eyes, wondering why he doesn’t go for another three like he was planning to.

“Don’t want to break you on the first night, sugar,” he says, sweetly cupping my face in his hands. “I know you don’t feel it right now but you’re gonna be real sore in a couple hours.”

I pout, unsure of how to react to that. My legs are still shaking and while I do feel tired I’m still turned on.

Okay, maybe there’s dull ache.

“Oh, don’t pout. There’s other nights, and I’m gonna take care of you,” he smiles softly.

“Okay,” I whisper, finally regaining enough sense to talk.

He leans down to kiss me, softly this time. I melt into the kiss, and that’s when I realize: I don’t just want Ben. I think the feelings might be deeper. Maybe I… love? him.

But hey. There’s other nights.

****************************************************

As a bonus, cause I love y’all: if we can get 250 notes on this post by the end of the poll time then I will do a spicy soldier boy fic with whichever of these gets the most votes. If we can somehow get to 400 I’ll do the top two! No kink shaming, okay? 🥹🎀

In the meantime, if you want more Soldier Boy try Taming the Supe!! <3

For fans of Big Sky!Jensen, part two of 2SC (aka my favorite project thus far) should be coming out next!

And don’t forget, asks/requests/thoughts/thots are always open!!

[justawritterwithideas]

Boy Wonder and the Rockstar | s.r

✩ previous part | next part ✩

summary: The BAU rushes to Washington after discovering that the lead singer of a famous band may be in danger, causing Spencer to come face to face with his past after 15 years.

general warnings: this series contains topics such as mentions of death, alcohol, drugs, strong vocabulary, as well as talk of heartbreak, disappointment and arguments. It also contains content regarding CM season 13, so it clearly contains spoilers.

chapter warnings: this chapter contains mentions of murder, vomiting, mistreatment, as well as the use of strong vocabulary. this is a spencer reid x famous!reader story.

words: 4,269 words.

a/n: hello! here i come with the second chapter of "boy wonder and the rockstar", i had fun writing this chapter as i also suffered from lack of creativity ( T T ), but finally inspiration touched me. I hope you like it. Remember to read the chapter cautions and have a good read.! English is not first language, so I may have mistakes, if so, I'm sorry. :(

𝟎.𝟐: 𝐌𝐲 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫.

For many people, memories that are related to times in their lives relate to certain aspects of the five senses, whether it's certain sounds or textures, music that brings them back to that exact memory, or simply tastes of foods that remind them of what their loved ones used to make.

For Spencer, it was smells.

Despite possessing a memory that makes him remember even the smallest detail of what happened the day before, his olfactory memory was much more developed than other senses.

During his childhood, or what he considers childhood, his memories smelled of the pages of old books that his mother read to him and her perfume, impregnated in the bed sheets when they sat together to read some classic of literature. When he was in his youth, sometimes the smells reminded him of the charcoal in his pencil, writing mathematical exercises on white sheets, or sometimes the smell of chlorine, because of the thousand times bullies forced him to go to the bathroom.

But during his college days, he always thought that the smell that would be his favorite was the soft smell of the library, of wood and humidity; but no, those memories had the smell of freshly brewed coffee, cherries and menthol cigarettes.

His good memories always brought smiles to his face in the middle of nowhere, as if he was remembering one of those old bad jokes they used to tell him and he couldn't find the humor in them, or maybe the less thought out answers to such logical questions. His good memories caused his stomach to clench tightly and his chest to feel heavy, as if a stone was replacing his heart.

Spencer knew why. Why his body felt that way.

But he didn't want to admit why.

Because if he admitted it, he knew the only reason he did would make him regret it, he would have to give reason to his sentimental side than the rational side.

And he hated not being right.

"Spence."

J.J.'s voice brought the boy back to his desk, taking his eyes off the nearly iced coffee with a pound of sugar to keep him awake.

He'd been daydreaming about Y/N's laughter in his ear for nights now, just like when they had sleepovers at her apartment. He couldn't get her out of his head, let alone get the smell out of her hair when she was the small spoon.

"What, what's going on?" the opposite replied, looking at the blonde. She seemed to be trying to decipher what was going on in her friend's head.

"I'm asking you, is something wrong, are you sleeping well?"

"Yes." Bullshit.

"Are you sure? Your eyes say otherwise." The black circles under his eyes gave him away.

"I've been sleepless for a few days, but it's because my neighbors won't let me sleep." Another bullshit.

"You should talk to them, you know." The boy nodded, giving the blonde an elongated smile and returning to his paperwork.

"Really all right?"

"Yeah, J.J. It's fine."

"'S okay, you know what you can tell me."

"Yes J.J., thank you."

The answer didn't leave the blonde satisfied, but she made an extraordinary effort to ignore his attitude and return to the desk with Luke and Matt, who had been staring at him for a couple of minutes.

"He's rambling again." Commented J.J as she returned, who kept her eyes on her best friend and tried to figure out what was wrong with him.

It was usual at this time of year, when the leaves were beginning to turn their last summer colors, that Spencer would go blank staring at a spot in the room more than once.

No one quite understood why that happened to him, the only one who knew was Gideon. But he never shared any of Spencer's secrets, not even if a gun was held to his chest.

"Guess whateee, my dear friends!" The conversation was interrupted by a cheerful and enthusiastic Penelope, who commanded everyone's attention with her sonorous voice.

"What's going on, Garcia?" Luke turned to see her, who was coming with an envelope in her hand.

"Your genius did it again, rub the wishing lamp and I got tickets to the best concert of the year - Paradox in Virginia! Can you believe it?"

"You got them!?" J.J. was the first to startle, coming closer to see the tickets for the most anticipated concert of the year.

"That's right, my dear friend! A girls' night out to see Paradox. You, me, Emily and Tara."

"No way, god. I'll talk to Will and rest assured I'll be ready for that night." J.J smiled hugging her friend's arm.

"What's Paradox...?" muttered Luke, causing Matt to turn to look at him. The poor Luke was trying to comprehend what his friends were talking about.

Was he too out of date on pop culture or were they speaking in some kind of secret code?

"Oh Luke, why did you ask that?" Matt shook his head, earning a glare from the blonde couple.

"What did you say, newbie, don't you know what Paradox is? Oh god, no way. I'll have to bring you up to date with a course on what today's music is right now, follow me." Penelope motioned to the boy, who turned to see Matt who was lifting his shoulders laughing.

"No Penelope, you're not going anywhere. We have a case, and it's urgent. There's no time, meeting room now."

The rest of the people turned to look at each other, abiding by their boss's orders as they saw her so anxious and serious about a case.

That didn't look good at all.

The adrenaline and euphoria of last night's show, plus the last two dates, had been enough of a stimulant for Y/N to fall asleep in bed once they arrived at the hotel. Her whole body was exhausted, and at that moment all she wanted was some chamomile tea and a thousand hours of sleep.

She loved her job, of course she did! But she was mentally and physically exhausted from giving almost 15 concerts without a break, from one state to another, with more cups of coffee and energizers in her body than times where her eyes closed to sleep.

And the only time she found peace and quiet was when her body was being moved from one location to another, so, at that moment, her body was resting in the comfortable seat of the SUV after being driven to an interview and returned to the hotel to rest.

She felt her limbs meld with the seat, feeling like she was in heaven itself where her muscles all over her body were relaxing after days.

Her peace didn't last long when she heard a soft call.

"Psss, Y/N."

The, now, blonde heard the call from Felix, also known as the band's drummer and her best friend.

"What? You ruin my beauty nap."

"What did one wall say to the other?"

Y/N could hang him right then and there.

More the tiredness in her body made her think, trying to devise the best answer to get him to leave her alone.

"What?"

"I'll meet you at the corner."

"I'm having the biggest self-control to not kill you because you just interrupted the only moment of peace I've had these past three months, asshole."

"You haven't been able to sleep?"

Y/N denied with her eyes closed, desperate to get back to her attempt at sleep.

"Not a single moment, I woke up three times last night and that was the best attempt at sleep I've ever had."

"Your pills aren't working?"

"They're placebos, they won't make my body calm down just like that and go back to my eight hour sleep cycle that I'd had for the last two years without touring." The young woman opened one eye, looking at her friend. "I just have to get used to it, I have to get back to the cycle of excitement I used to have when it was tour after tour."

"Maybe if we talk about that thing that bothers you-"

"No way."

Y/N knew what he meant, knew it was talking about a certain doctor who gave her goosebumps every time she thought about him and took her back to her college days.

Why was she still thinking about him? It had been almost 15 years since they last spoke.

Y/N looked at the date on her phone.

No, she was wrong.

It had been 15 years since they last spoke.

Today was 15 years since she had received the last letter from Spencer with her name written on it.

The last time she felt the smell of his perfume on the sheets and his ugly doctor's handwriting on a sheet of paper.

The last time she saw written "wherever you are, whatever you do or whoever you are with, you are always on my mind and in my heart, Y/N."

Last time she saw written "Love from Quantico, dr. Spencer Reid. I'm also known as your #1 fan, but only you know that."

Was that the reason she hadn't slept well that night? Yes.

Was that the reason she hadn't slept well for that last week? Yes.

Was that the reason why, every time she closed her eyes, she saw him smile? Yes.

Was she going to admit it? No.

Never.

"Y/N..."

"I don't want to talk about it, Felix. Don't insist."

"But, Y/N-"

"Let it go, Felix. Really, don't insist." Tyler's voice made Felix turn to look at him angrily.

Tyler and Shawn, the guitarist and bassist respectively, shook their heads and made an "X" symbol with their fingers, muttering at the same time "don't do it, don't be stupid."

"Enough kids, let it go. In two days we have a very important concert to give in Seattle, so I don't want any fights."

"You heard him, Felix." Y/N smiled opening her eyes, looking in the direction of Gerald, her manager.

Thank you, Y/N murmured in the man's direction.

Gerald just raised his shoulders, noticing how the van parked.

"Okay, down."

Tyler and Shawn were the first to get out, followed by Y/N and then Felix.

Felix hated to come off as meddling in Y/N's life, so whenever he meddled too much in the girl's life, he simply knew that seeking forgiveness from her was his best option.

"Sorry Y/N, I didn't mean to insist."

"It's okay, Felix. I know you meant no harm, but I don't want to talk about it."

"And when will you?"

"I don't know, I guess when I'm ready."

"It's been 15 years, Y/N."

"I know, but I'm still not read-"

"Miss Autumn?"

Y/N turned to see the receptionist, who was holding a package.

"A package has arrived for you."

"Thank you, do you know who brought it?"

"No miss, I'm sorry."

"No worries, thanks again."

Y/N received it, walking to the elevator along with Felix after seeing how the package had a sticker on it that said "express delivery."

"What did you order, compulsive shopper?" Gerald turned to look at her, causing Y/N to deny in confusion.

"Nothing that I know of, I promise."

"Maybe it's a collaboration, Tiffany's already started putting the ads with your face all over it." Shawn smiled, elbowing the arm of the store's new ambassador.

"A gift for you to occupy at the next gig." Gerald replied, nodding softly as he looked down at his phone.

The box was small and covered in the typical plastic they place around it. Compact enough to drop a set of jewelry on behalf of the brand, but it seemed odd that it came directly and without warning.

The group made their way to the small meeting room where they had set up everything they needed, ready to hear the itinerary Gerald had prepared for them about their upcoming events.

Y/N's fingers went to open the package once it was placed on the table, watching as  the "Tiffany & Co." logo on its little sky blue box.

"Okay guys, tomorrow you have rehearsal from noon until three in the afternoon, then you'll have an interview on a radio station near the sta-"

A beautiful gold ring with a navy blue gem in the middle was the first thing that caught the young woman's eye, perfect for the occasion. But it was heavier than usual.

"Then you can go eat and rest, we'll still have dress rehearsal, so you can get ready-"

A shout coming from Y/N deafened the group of people, causing them all to look in her direction.

Her skin was as white as paper, her eyes fixed on the box she had just opened and her face with an expression of pure terror from an experimental horror movie.

All eyes went in the direction of the box, which Y/N felt like everything she had eaten that morning was going to spew out of her mouth right then and there.

"Shit."

The beautiful ring encircled something.

A human finger.

A human finger that stained the bottom of the box.

A human finger that was accompanied by a note.

"I hope you enjoy my gift, my sweet star. I made it just for you, good luck at the concert."

"This morning at the Queen Elizabeth Hotel in Washington, the lead singer of the band Paradox received a package. Inside was a human finger with a ring on it." Emily was passing around the photographs that had been sent by the Washington police, it showed just what she had just described above. "According to the receptionist it was dropped off by someone from a package store. The police questioned him and he said it had arrived with yesterday's load of packages."

"From where?" Luke asked.

"They don't know, they collect packages from all over the country so they don't know where it came from. They're looking for the tracking code of the branch they sent it from."

"How grotesque, who would send such a thing to an artist like her?" Tara looked at Emily, who sighed.

"But what do we have to do with this case?" Rossi looked at his tablet, zooming in on the picture of the ring.

"The DNA results came back to find out whose finger it is." A photograph of a stranger appeared on the TV screen. "He is Bruno Colombo, an Italian artist and the owner of that finger. We just got word that his lifeless body was found in his art studio."

"He's Autumn's ex-fiancé." Penelope commented, surprised at all that was going on. "In 2016, he and Autumn got engaged after dating for two years, but after a few months it was discovered that the engagement ended after Autumn discovered him and an art gallery owner having sex in his studio. According to him he did it because he wanted to make an exhibition that would portray Autumn's true feelings, and this way he could see her feeling of anger and sadness. There are still people who idolize him for that."

"What a jerk." Matt muttered.

"And how come no one noticed his absence?"

" According to this, he was isolating himself when he was setting up exhibits so it wasn't out of the ordinary for him to suddenly disappear."

Spencer felt his heart pounding, why would he get like this over a clear case of a stalker obsessing over a music star?

It's not like he even knew her.

"Apparently, this relates to a series of related cases over ten years that the only common element is this band, Paradox. No one has ever linked them before as none of the modes of operation are the same, the only factor that unites them is the viciousness with which they are carried out and the band, of course." Emily sighed, showing the various faces and deaths that surrounded them.

"Race or religion has nothing to do with it, it seems neither does gender." Spencer commented, quickly reading each of the bodies found. "But it looks like they all had an encounter with the band or one of the members. From 2008 when the first body was found until now."

"The director asked us to take on this case, the level of this band is insane and it seems to be going against the vocalist, Autumn. They are currently on a world tour after two years of no activity, plus not much is known about her in general." Emily turned to look at Penelope. "Garcia, you're joining us on this trip. You serve us better back in Washington than you do here at Quantico. Reid and Lewis will go meet the M.E., the rest of us will go to the station and then we'll all go to the Queen Elizabeth Hotel, we'll meet the band and their manager." The whole group was surprised, especially Penelope who held a surprised expression. "Wheels up in 30."

Y/N always thought that the whole thing about having human parts shipped to you in a box was part of fiction. At best, news fiction.

But what she had just experienced was surreal.

Her body was shaking with a cup of tea in her hands, feeling her hands stinging around the cup.

"Who the fuck would send something like that to Y/N? No one we know is capable of doing anything to her, they would fuck up their careers if they were exposed like that." Tyler turned, annoyed, in the direction of Y/N. "Who did this to you, are you hiding something from us?"

"No, Tyler. I'm not hiding anything, why would I hide the fact that someone sent me a fucking human part on my name to a hotel in the middle of our comeback tour? You're blaming me for something, huh? Tell me to my fucking face, Tyler."

Y/N stood up in exasperation, letting the hot water spill onto the floor.

"I don't know, you tell me, Y/N. If you got sent a finger."

"Go straight to hell, Tyler. Right straight up." Commented the girl raising her middle finger.

"Enough! Both of you." Gerald's loud voice interrupted them, separating the band's strong personalities. "Right now we can't fight. They just sent a fucking human finger to Y/N, we can't get mad about that, we should be worried."

"Finally someone with sense." Y/N sat back down, setting the cup aside.

"What are they seeing so much of us, why aren't they doing anything? They should be looking for the person responsible." Felix got up walking towards the officers, being stopped by Shawn.

"Hey, they're doing the best they can. If we go in there and raise our voices, we're going to hinder the investigation, don't be a dickhead."

"Damn it, this can't be happening." Y/N stood up, starting to walk over to her purse to pull out a cigarette and place it between her teeth.

"You can't smoke in here, Y/N." Gerald's warning went in one ear to the girl and out the other, flicking her lighter. "Y/N."

"What, look at the shit we're in, I just got sent a fucking human finger from who-knows-who and you're asking me to keep my cool!? I can't! There's a crazy person out there sending me that shit with 'nice words'." The girl threw the lighter at who-knows-where, finding herself on the verge of an anxiety attack. "Don't fuck around and leave me alone to have a smoke, Gerald."

The group fell back into the same silence that surrounded them four hours ago, letting the cigarette smoke flood their nostrils.

They were desperate, they needed to get to the root of this.

Y/N knew it. Right now she was the eye of the hurricane, who that box and message were addressed to; the same person who had sent her that, had taken it upon himself to send her flowers and letters with the same nickname, "my sweet star."

At first she thought it was nice, of course it's nice when you get your favorite flowers along with letters of good cheer and best wishes, but it's not nice when you get a gift like today's.

But her attitude would get her nowhere, she was annoyed and exasperated, but they didn't deserve that kind of treatment.

"I'm sorry, but this is too much for me, I can't handle this alone and my attitude isn't helping anything. " Y/N commented, taking her eyes off her cigarette and looking at the people closest to her. "We should be in this together."

"I'm sorry, kid. I got upset that I couldn't help you, that you didn't know who sent you that." Tyler sighed, giving the girl a rueful smile.

"Don't worry about it, Ty. I'm really sorry, everyone."

The girl took another puff on her cigarette, letting the minty flavor cool her lungs.

"The FBI is here."

The announcement made everyone look at each other, taking their last breaths and letting Y/N finish what she was doing, the only thing keeping her sane at that moment.

"I'll see you downstairs, okay?" Felix left a kiss on the young woman's forehead, taking his leave to get on the elevator.

Y/N found herself alone in the room, again feeling disgust rise in her throat. She couldn't get the image of that package out of her mind, how was someone capable of writing those sweet words and sending something as grotesque as that.

The girl's hands gently stroked her cheeks, waking up and she shook her head. She would make one last stop to the bathroom before heading downstairs, so she could go more consciously for who-knows-what things would make her talk.

The BAU met up with a group of people who, thanks to the way Penelope was getting excited, could be sure it was Paradox.

All along the way, Spencer had listened to Garcia's theories and who it could have been. He loved listening to her talk, but his head was somewhere else, somewhere else but there.

Something inside him sensed something, something he wasn't sure what it was. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or maybe it was his thoughts of the past that had been running through him since morning.

"Agent Prentiss, I'm Gerald Murphy, the manager of Paradox." The man shook hands with the woman, who was looking over his shoulder at three people. "These are the members of the band: Tyler, Shawn and Felix."

The three let out a wave into the air, giving them a smile of sorts.

Spencer knew they weren't entirely happy they were there, he read it in their body language.

"I understand there are four of you in the band, here I see three." Emily looked directly into Gerald's eyes.

"Yeah, Autumn, the vocalist, is upstairs finishing something. But she's coming down now, right?" Felix nodded, watching the FBI agents.

Felix crossed glances with Spencer, feeling that familiar air from somewhere.

Spencer felt that familiar air too, but maybe he thought his mind was playing tricks on him.

"Please, let's go somewhere more private. That way we can talk more quietly."

Gerald motioned to the three men, who plunged inside the room, followed by everyone else.

The BAU settled down in front of the four people seated on the couches.

"If you like, we can wait for Miss Autumn." Emily glanced at the group, all of whom nodded.

"It's for the best, she's the most affected." Felix looked in the direction of Tyler and Shawn, who simply nodded in unison.

"You've never received anything like this before?" Luke directed his question at the group of people, causing Tyler to let out a sarcastic laugh.

"You think that's a normal thing to receive, a human finger? Please, be realistic."

"Tyler, shut up." Shawn motioned, slapping the young man's knee.

"That's a stupid question of his, since when is getting shit like that going to be normal?"

"Tyler!" Shawn gave him a stern look, turning his gaze back to Luke. "I'm sorry, we're touchy about this that just happened."

"My question was out of line, it's my fault." Luke admitted, turning to look at the rest.

"When is Autumn getting here?" Felix's question seemed to work magic, smelling her best friend's signature scent.

A strong smell of cherries and menthol tobacco made Spencer shake his head.

It wasn't time to remember Y/N, it wasn't time to focus on something like that.

It felt like his head was playing a joke on him, as if she was suddenly here. But the smell didn't go away, in fact, it intensified to the point that Spencer could feel his head hurting.

"Sorry I'm late."

Spencer felt his entire body freeze, as if he were turning into an ice cube.

The voice he thought he would never hear again.

The voice that escaped so much in his dreams.

He could hear it there, like an echo in his head.

His head turned, catching the figure that had just entered with some haste.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Autu-"

"Y/N."

The girl looked up, meeting Spencer's hazel eyes.

No way, Y/N thought.

Her heart stopped, as did the time around her.

Standing in front of her was a much older and mature Spencer Reid, but with that same lotion that made her dizzy.

The woman's mouth opened slightly, feeling the air in her lungs catch and no words came out of her mouth.

Her lip quivered, her pulse altered.

"Spencer."

Oh fate, how cruel did you have to be?

@alexa-33 | @ahhhhyesk | @imthefuckingleader | @narmothewraith | @kneelforloki | @niyahwhoreworld | @lexie0037 | @deadunicorn159 | @corpsebridenightamare | @preciousbabypeter | @sakuramadae | @zzz000eee | @runefirestarter | @sebastiansstanswhore | @whateverrrrrrrrs | @xsarcasticwriterx | @chris-seb-marvel | @bellaramseygfsblog | @lillysbigwilly | @dezibou | @astrophileous | @ily2lia | @sophiario | @valenftcrush | @oxace-of-heartsxo | @spencerrxids | @w31rdg1rl | @ineedsomezzz | @yeehawbitchs | @coolstories66 | @baku-hoes-blog

If you like it, don't forget to like and repost it.

a lot of love, alme. ❀

[myscenic]

My Safe Place [Teaser]

Pairing: bodyguard!lee jeno x male!reader

Genre: fluff, romance, smut, slight enemies to friends to lovers

Warnings: swearing, top!jeno, smut (more to be revealed later), reader is very childish, cold jeno

Word Count: teaser (1k+) | full fic (?k+)

Started Date: 15.5.24 | Finished Date: ?.?.24

Synopsis: y/n's family is going on a trip for a month but decided to leave y/n at home because he always causes trouble. they told jeno to take care of him. y/n was upset, especially he had to live with his cold ass bodyguard for an entire month.

ʚɞ Note: i'm officially working on my first long fanfic! don't ask me about the jisung one LMAO. i'm really excited for this one :>> i barely see any long fics for male readers so I decided to do one so. and for the ppl who sent in the requests, i'm sorry i haven't worked on any of them yet, but i promise i'll finish them asap!!

y/n watched frustrated as the car carrying his family drove away down the long driveway. they were all waving goodbye through the windows, excited for their month long vacation at the beach house. all except him.

once again, y/n had been deemed too "troublesome" to join them, left behind instead with jeno, their family’s bodyguard. jeno stood next to y/n, his usual blank expression watching the car ready to leave.

"a whole month?!" y/n exclaimed, annoyance lacing his tone. he shot an irritated glare at jeno. "this is all your fault."

but jeno remained silent and stoic as ever. y/n knew he wouldn't get a response.

it's not like y/n caused that much trouble, he thought to himself. sure, he prank called a pizza place to send the school 20 pizzas on the principal's name. and he had set off a few stink bombs in class. but it was harmless pranks! his parents never understood.

the only one on his side was his brother junhui. as he got in the car, junhui ruffled y/n's hair affectionately and gave him an apologetic smile. "try not to drive jeno too crazy, okay?" he said with a wink.

y/n stuck his tongue out in reply. easy for junhui to say - he wasn't the one stranded for a month with the boring guy.

speaking of which, jeno had already started towards the house. y/n had to jog to catch up to his long strides. "so what, you're my personal jailer?" y/n grumbled.

as stoic as ever, jeno responded, "i'm doing my job to keep you out of trouble."

y/n sighed dramatically. "well your job sucks. this is going to be the longest month ever." but jeno just kept walking, cold and uncaring as always. ugh.

y/n stopped in front of jeno, blocking his path to the house. "entertain me mr. bodyguard!" he demanded with a smirk. "it's going to be just the two of us for a whole month, so you better find some way to keep me occupied."

jeno gazed down at y/n expressionlessly. "i'm not here for your amusement," he replied in a monotone voice. "i have a job to do - keeping you safe and out of trouble so your family can enjoy their vacation."

he tried to step around y/n, but the boy moved to obstruct him again. "come on, there must be something fun you can do!" y/n prodded, raising his eyebrows expectantly. "or are you really as boring as you look?"

jeno sighed inwardly. dealing with y/n was never easy, but now it was going to be a full time endeavor for the next 30 days. as much as he disliked encouraging the boy's mischievous behavior, he knew he had to find some way to keep y/n entertained and well behaved while his family was gone.

jeno's mind quickly ran through possible options. "if you accompany me to do evening training exercises, i suppose i could teach you some basic self defense techniques," he suggested. it would help fill the time productively, at least.

y/n blocked jeno's path once more. "training exercises?" he scoffed. “no thanks, i’m good. come on jeno, live a little!"

jeno simply rolled his eyes. "then stop interrupting me and let me do my job," he replied in an exasperated tone. he tried to step around y/n again.

but the boy wasn't done yet. "how are you even the same age as my perfect brother junhui when you're so boring?" y/n continued to needle him.

jeno could feel a headache coming on already. "i’m not here to entertain you. now move aside," was all he said evenly.

y/n threw his hands up with an overly dramatic sigh. "ugh, you're impossible. i'll be in my room if you need me, which you won't because you're the most boring person ever."

with that, he spun on his heel and stalked back inside, leaving jeno alone on the doorstep. the bodyguard let out a quiet breath, silently thanking whatever higher power gave him the patience to deal with this difficult charge.

later that afternoon, y/n was still lying bored in his bedroom after two hours of doing nothing. he was surprised when he got a text from his best friend chenle.

lele: yooo wanna hangout?

y/n: i cantttt jenos not letting me go anywhere!

lele: sneak out then? ;)

y/n felt a thrill of excitement at the suggestion. chenle had always been more of a rebel than him. before he could think better of it, he typed back.

y/n: omggg ur a genius! okay let's meet at 3pm at the park!

but as the time approached, doubts started to creep in. what if jeno found out? he'd be in so much trouble. y/n paced his room anxiously, debating whether to go through with it.

at that moment, there was a firm knock on his door. "it's time for your daily security check," came jeno's even voice.

he took a deep breath and opened the door, forcing a casual smile. "hey jeno. nothing to report, same as usual. boring in here!"

jeno's intense gaze swept the room before settling on y/n. "make sure it stays that way. no sneaking out while i'm not watching, understood?"

y/n gulped. with great effort, y/n kept his tone light. "yeah, yeah, i get it. you're in charge. i’ll be good, promise!"

for a long moment, jeno just looked at him assessingly. then with a stern "i mean it. leave the door open so i can check on you better," he turned and walked away, leaving y/n to wonder - how much trouble was he really in?

y/n hurriedly changed into some nicer clothes, excitement growing at the thought of sneaking out without jeno catching him. he peered out his window, ready to jump out.

just as y/n swung his leg over the sill, ready to jump, there was a knock on the door. "y/n, do you want something to eat? i can grab you some snacks-"

jeno saw y/n was at the window, he shouted, "hey!", y/n gave him a cheeky smirk. "see ya!" he called out confidently.

in one swift motion, y/n launched himself out the open window before jeno could react. he managed to stick the landing in the grass below, rolling to absorb the impact. already he could hear jeno shouting after him from the bedroom window.

"this kid..."

[ivesambrose]

Rest of 2023 Forecast 🎐

1. 2. 3.

Just like that, it's already autumn 🍁

How was everyone's year so far?

Mine was rather eventful towards the later half.

But let's take a look into what the closing messages of 2023 are for you 🩵

To book a personal reading with me DM or email me at Ivesambrose@gmail.com

Personal Readings

Masterpost

Thank you for the tip

Picture 1

Realizing that you want to do and achieve certain things for yourself and not because someone expects way too much from you and you have to somehow gain their validation. However, you'll also come across people who inspire creativity in you and encourage you to step into your power, be more assertive without the fear of standing out.

Whatever labour you put in around this time will have it's turn out by next year. Stay patient, it will be rewarded.

You'll slowly see fortune turn in your favor, there might be sudden changes that push you to walk away from a certain place or situation but you'll be happy to do so. It's likely you were waiting for it for the most part of thr year and it's happening now.

Some of you might also hit the lottery, win a jackpot, receive unexpected money through your business, work or just randomly have it come to you.

You'll be making plans for the next year to venture out, manifest important connections, make travel plans etc you'll be looking forward to having fun and admist all the fun you'll see situations that earlier were out of control or stagnant, fall into place for you.

Be wary of certain manipulative people who seem all talk no show, they're just trying to dupe you into something. Trust your intuition here.

If you have a business or working on launching one, you'll find the right people and see a lot of growth. Have faith in your abilities.

Picture 2

Initially I see you being conflicted with something, being unable to decide with the number of options in front of you. You might also be picturing the possible ways certain things can or will play out in your life and trying to stick to the best case scenario. Eventually, you'll be able to focus. You just require some discipline.

You may also be unable to see the progress you've made so far or are making but it'll suddenly occur to you that you've indeed climbed to the top of the ladder and overcame a lot of obstacles, you're almost there, so it's best to simply enjoy the process and the journey since success is imminent if you don't stop.

There's a possible union with someone special or even celebration with your friends. Gifts being exchanged and a lot of financial prosperity coming your way.

I see by the end of this year you'll be feeling lavish and happy since something significant came through somehow.

I heard the words, "seems I'm lucky after all!"

Picture 3

It may have been a tumultuous year so far, good news is thar youre finally finding your center. Body and mind in sync, slowing down and offering a better perspective of things.

For a lot of you, I see that you had been struggling with your health a lot both physical and mental, you'll be seeing considerable progress. You might start getting into exercise again, likely lower intensity ones, it will give you better benefits as well as put you in a meditative state.

Your true glow up starts now. Instead of pushing yourself to break and grind in order get something you'll simply allow yourself to receive. You might feel creative and want to get back to the arts be in sketching, keeping an art book, makeup, even cooking or fashion/fashion design. You'll be feeling more beautiful inside and out.

You'll be excited to welcome the new year, a new chapter of your life is beginning. You'll be feeling more energised and hopeful. Attend more events, celebrate with friends, make new ones, travel etc

You have a lot of intellect and wisdom, there's a power in your words as well as your voice, you'll be influencing the right people who'd want to be around you or know you personally. Have discernment when letting anyone in, eitherway the right ones will stay and add value to your life.

[cilil]

Hi, do you have any advices for budding writers on AO3 or here?

Hey! :)

I've given this some thought and compiled what I hope might be some helpful pointers, but if there's anything else or anything specific you want to hear more about, feel free to ask again. Also I'm assuming this is about the amazing craft of fanfic and not, uh, building a platform or whatever (I wouldn't be very helpful with that, I'm a nobody x)).

Share what you feel comfortable sharing.

So since you're asking about budding writers on AO3 and Tumblr, I take it you're at a point where you feel comfortable sharing your writing online, which is amazing. Nevertheless, I feel the need to once again mention (just for anyone who may be in the same or a similar situation) that it's completely alright not to be comfortable with it (yet) or not to share everything you write. I share almost everything simply because I'm annoying and it makes me feel accomplished and since I've grown pretty comfortable with it, I might as well; but not everyone feels that way and feelings also change. It's completely alright to write just for yourself or a small circle of friends.

Don't worry too much about "being good".

I will be the first to admit that I deeply relate to struggling with perfectionism when it comes to writing (and other creative pursuits). However, as someone who's been reading fic for many years, tends to be into quite niche and obscure things sometimes and is rarely spoiled by big fandoms' abundance of food, I want all writers, especially new ones, to know that you don't have to write the most amazing, perfect, publishing-ready pieces. What matters is your passion and creativity, which will show in your writing regardless of skill level. Not to mention that fic is free and in fact a tool for many to experiment.

That's not to say you can't strive to improve or be good - by all means, I find it admirable if you want to hone your craft and make progress as you continue to write. Just don't let perfectionism ruin your fun and stifle your creativity.

How to get better without trying overly hard.

Aside from just writing, writing and writing (that is the most important part though), how do you improve without making it a point to do so? Well, if it works for you to read/watch guides or you enjoy specific writing exercises, that's great, but one thing that I find gets overlooked a lot in writing spaces is simply: Reading. Just reading for fun.

I find that I often discover little things in other people's writing that I really like and then I think to myself "wow, that's really neat how they did that, maybe I could take a page out of their book" (pun intended) and make it a point to pay attention to these things when I write. Essentially, it's like creating a nice patchwork blanket which is your style, made up of your own voice and preferences as a writer and cool stuff you picked up on the road.

Let me just name some examples, which, yes, are also an excuse to shamelessly blow some writer friends of mine a well-deserved kiss of appreciation. @sauron-kraut writes incredibly polished short stories with beautiful wording and atmosphere that have a lot of little hidden things to discover and dissect, and I want to steal her ability to set the stage and hide those easter eggs. @a-world-of-whimsy-5 is an absolute legend when it comes to writing medieval and medieval-adjacent stuff, and I learned so much from her fics. @i-did-not-mean-to has a way of writing with such esprit and wit that I always end up in a good mood after, a style of narrative voice I've adored for over a decade, and I've greatly improved my humorous writing in particular thanks to her. @crackinthecup has the marvelous ability to craft extremely emotionally evocative scenes, which have encouraged me to be more courageous and experimental in my sentence melody and structure. @tragedybunny has a way of writing that reminds me of coming home to a warm and comfy place, and I will find out how she did it and how I can do it as well.

So as you can see, it can be super helpful to compare notes with your fellow writers. Never be discouraged by someone else's ability; instead learn and expand your own.

Feedback, criticism and community.

Let me just get one thing out of the way: You don't have to take criticism from everyone. Or at all. As far as I understand, the fanfic community has come to to agree that we're doing this for fun and don't give criticism unprompted/when we aren't sure it's wanted or welcome. As a general rule: Take criticism from those you would also seek advice from. Ask for feedback if you feel comfortable, and if not, that's a valid boundary to have and I will gently smack anyone who presumes to pick apart writing that was made for fun and generously shared with the community for free.

The community aspect, however, should be taken into account on other fronts. While I won't tell anyone they have to interact and believe that, in an ideal world, everyone's writing would just speak for itself, it is helpful to engage with the community. Things you can do (both on Tumblr and AO3 if also applicable/possible) include: Respond to people interacting with your works, interacting with other people's works (for example while you're doing your reading sessions and looking at other writers' styles) and just overall being present, being talkative, going with the flow.

Again, this is not a must. But I will say that pretty much all of us want positive responses and interactions on their work and that just won't work if you expect everyone to show up for you all the time and never show up for anyone else. Engagement, passion and community are our "currency" in the absence of money and reciprocity is an important element of that. A lot of friction and complaints in the fanfic community regarding lack of interaction or entitlement are rooted in misunderstandings of this fundamental principle.

But don't take this in a cynical manner. Seek out what you enjoy, share the joy and passion and you'll make friends just accidentally - which is the part that I find makes fandom on AO3 and Tumblr so much fun! (I don't even want to be a "traditional" author anymore, I want this instead😁)

Find your groove and groove along.

Lastly, make sure your writing is fun for you or else it'll become a chore and eventually get ruined for you as a hobby. This is unfortunately a continuous task as your needs and interests shift - for example you might be in the mood to do an entire drabble challenge one month and during another month you feel so drained that you couldn't do another one. Or you might want to write something different for a change. Or whatever it may be.

Either way, one recent lesson I've learned is that I got too tied up in obligations and it left no space for spontaneous inspiration, so I never got to write what I wanted to write in the moment and it pushed me quite close to burnout. Do yourself a favor and always hold that space for yourself. In practice, this could for example mean that you do one event and on the side write this cool new idea you had, instead of doing three events - which is fun and games until it starts getting too much and you don't have time for your passion projects.

Finding your groove also includes the whole technical aspect, such as which writing programs you use, which device (or none at all), where you write, how to make yourself comfortable, how to get in the right headspace for things. I would also like to encourage all of you to be a bit crazy and whimsical about this: For example I've gone to the perfume store, picked out a scent for a specific character in a specific scene and sniffed it while writing the description several times now. Do what it takes. And say goodbye to your squeaky clean search history - you will research some weird stuff just to get that one line right.

So yeah, these are just my random thoughts on fic writing and what has been helpful in order for me to have lots of fun with this hobby. Happy writing!

[pomefioredove]

Ah

Was going over the voicelines and references and aaa it's so fun

I think i found the snippets that were good fodder for vilyuu. some of them from the post that goes into depth for vilyuu this one -> the link ( https://jasminetl.lofter.com/post/1d5363f0_2b4c8f58d )

These ones are fun

From the camping event, outdoor wear

I know I'm beautiful but did you know i can be rugged too? Look how rugged i can be. <- vil really said i can do both actually. He didn't have to say that, he singled out yuu for that

Invitation for yoga and exercise by the lakeside

From beanfest (this one i might be just really intensely wanting to see but ahhh who knows)

So again, he's like " I'm not JUST pretty, look how cool and capable i am. I can even get dirty for this"

And again he's like "y'know being covered in dirt and scuffed from battle can look attractive. Don't you think that looks attractive??" <- vil why are you seeking so much approval??? Do you have something to say???

The more i look through the voicelines (between him and Yuu) and in other events the more i find that a lot of it really does kinda boil down to "heh, isn't this cool? Do you think it's cool 👀" subtle gauging of interest type of stuff. Trying to help, to get some hang out time (usually in excuses though not always), constantly dropping those hints. It's very funny, even more so compared to how he acts with other characters in similar situations. I'm just saying that vil very much offered only prefect his cape to hide in to protect from ghosts, and didn't really offer as such to any. He's Definitely more likely to get irked by someone else asking for his time than prefect lol.

Anyways thought to drop this in to the ask box due to that last post about vilyuu week and just like for funsies

look at this man.

he wants them so bad it makes him look stupid /ref

I think it's delightful how he has 10 billion fans and a live-in hype man but he still purposefully seeks out approval from Yuu. which could mean nothing.

I read a lot of voice lines on the wiki when I'm trying to develop a character's voice and his definitely stand out because. hmmmmm 🤨

touch

vil has mixed reactions to being touched (by yuu), I suspect a part of that is just being overwhelmed from time-to-time

like this:

"I know you want me to pay more attention to you, but it will have to wait. I'm very busy at the moment."

(okay but notice how he he doesn't say no. he says later. okayyyy mr schoenheit. making room in the schedule for your little angel huh. I see how it is)

other times he's okay with it:

"Ah, but of course. Given my radiant allure, I can hardly fault your overwhelming desire to touch me."

and other times he ASKS(!!!) yuu to touch him:

"The placement of a single hair can greatly affect the outcome of a photo. Could you fix this for me?"

>_> I'm just saying.

obvious flirting (and banter)

not including the obvious ploys for yuu's attention which he does CONSTANTLY (as you have shown in your ask!) there's a lot of. uh

"Is it the dorm uniform that leaves you smitten, or is it I? Heh..."

"Admiration nurtures the seed of beauty. By all means, fall for me."

"Unfortunately for you, you have nowhere else to turn. So you'd best resign yourself to becoming my thrall."

"I will sink my fangs right into you."

I KNOW this is the halloween event and he's only playing the part, but c'mon. come on. COME ON

"Trick or treat! But I'm not after your candy. Vampires are more interested in... Heh heh!"

why is he giggling.

then there's cute little bantery moments like:

"Where's MY souvenir, then? ...Oh, goodness. I was only kidding, but you actually had one for me. Why, thank you."

IDK the way he feels comfortable and friendly enough around yuu to joke with them... 🥺🥺 they make me want to chew metal

"You'd like to visit the Scalding Sands with me someday? Certainly-as long as you draw up an itinerary that won't leave me bored."

they're planning a date here actually. hello. I hate them so much (lying)

and whatever you'd call this

"You are the last person I ever expected to make me happy. That's a compliment, by the way. Thank you for your warm wishes."

THEY MAKE ME SICK. I read this in a mean way at first but now I think that's just his sick twisted version of flirting. "I never expected you would make me so happy but you do and I'm still partially in denial about it" DO YOU HEAR YOURSELF

other stuff

these are like random and inconsequential, I just like them

"Parting is such sweet sorrow."

this is literally just Shakespeare. does Romeo and Juliet exist in this universe or did he come up with that. crazy thing to say either way

anyway yeah. these are taken out of context and such so there's other stuff going on but you get my point. the OTP

[truths33k3r4]

TMNT au Writing/Sketching Prompts! ~TMNTember 2024~

These are some silly, angsty, peaceful, comforting, and bizarre prompts you can use to really explore your characters in your au!

Going for a walk after being inside for a whole week

Carnival ride gone wrong

Aftermath of a scary situation

Betrayed by someone they trust

Exercising to cope

Sibling catches them cheating in schoolwork

Forced sedation

Bribing a tattle tale sibling

Sibling's voice changes over night (Piercing HIGH/drumming LOW)

Battle with siblings for the bathroom in the morning

Forced to go to doctor/hospital/medic- "I don't want to go! Don't make me go!!"

Trying to keep a secret from parent/older sibling at dinner table, while other sibling continually tries to reveal secret

Realizes they're poisoned after the battle is long over

Younger sibling uncharacteristically fighting back at older sibling

First time alone in the house

Playing pretend with siblings outside

Unexperienced medic forced to re-locate sibling's dislocated arm/leg

Knock out dart/knock out gas

Tea Party

Finding an abandoned baby

"This is going to sting. ... Like a lot."

Strapped down and experimented on

Freaky Friday- Body Swap

Fake smiles for a photo

Finding out they have a tail now

A silent, pleading prayer

Panicking as they try to turn off a scary movie

Nightmare serum injected by villain

"I'm ready. I... am READY."

Turtle Pile

Hope anyone who wants to try this has fun!! The purpose of this exercise is to really push yourself out of your writing/sketching comfort zone. Many of these prompts are vague enough where you can choose if they'll be comforting, angsty, quiet, or full-on angst. Have fun with it!!!

(Just a heads up- this challenge is just for fun! You do NOT have to do every single prompt! Do whichever one you want! :) )

And please feel free to tag me if you use this! I'm going to be doing this exercise this month to hopefully stretch my artistic/creative abilities too! And I'd love to see what you guys come up with! :)

If anyone wants, they can send me a number of a prompt and the name of a character from my au, "The Strength in Weakness", and I will either draw a sketch or write a short fic on it. :)

HERE'S WHAT I HAVE SO FAR!!

Going For a Walk After a Week of Being Inside

Carnival Ride Gone Wrong

Aftermath of a Scary Situation

Betrayed By Someone They Trust

Exercising to Cope

Sibling Catches Them Cheating in Schoolwork

Forced Sedation (comedic and angst versions)

Bribing a Tattle Tale Sibling

Sibling's Voice Changes Overnight

Battle with Siblings for the Bathroom

Forced to Go to Doctor/Medic/Hospital

Trying to keep a secret from parent/older sibling at dinner table, while other sibling continually tries to reveal secret

Realizes They're Poisoned Long After the Battle is Over

Younger sibling uncharacteristically fighting back at older sibling PART 1 and PART 2

First Time Alone in the House

Have fun creating, guys!!!

~ Melissa

[melrosing]

MBO Robert's Rebellion: Season 2 Episode 2

what the fuck is this: it's me drafting a fake robert's rebellion tv show through a series of bullet points. there will be two seasons of ten episodes each

i figured actually this one is basically done so im posting it. the rest should come prettyyyy quickly now, it's just a couple story strains where i'm making the last few edits to get everything in across the ten eps. anyway this 'season' is probably a wholeass exercise for me in trying to make sense of Rhaegar Targaryen so welcome, pls come along for the ride.

SEASON ONE: Episode 1, Episode 2, Episode 3, Episode 4, Episode 5, Episode 6, Episode 7, Episode 8, Episode 9, Episode 10

SEASON TWO: Episode 1, Episode 2, Episode 3

title for this one: rhaegar breaks everything

Lyanna wakes in her tent to the sound a baby’s desperate screams. Perplexed, she dresses hurriedly and saddles her horse, riding off at pace to where she thinks they seem to come from. She grows more frustrated the further she rides, never seeming to get any closer. Suddenly, she hears a voice scream her name - it’s Ned’s. She sends her horse to a gallop, and reaches a familiar clearing: she met Rhaegar here a year ago, during the tourney of Harrenhal. Distracted, Lyanna regards the place a moment in silence, then reaches inside her cloak to find the flower crown Rhaegar gave her back then. It’s dried out now. A voice whispers ‘Lyanna’ more quietly, and Lyanna, alarmed, turns to see Rhaegar, leading a horse of his own. She asks if he heard a child; Rhaegar says he didn’t. Lyanna says she’d thought she’d heard Ned too, but he’s in the Vale. She supposes she must’ve been dreaming. Rhaegar asks if she dreams often, Lyanna says she dreams sometimes. Rhaegar asks of what, Lyanna says of this place, of blue roses, and of - she looks at him, stops. But Rhaegar knows already. He says, ‘I dream, too.’

Opening creds

Brandon riding for the Stark camp with Edmure, who chatters beside him about how he’s never ridden this far before. They meet Benjen at the outpost, who looks anxious; Brandon asks what the matter is, Benjen tells him it’s Lyanna. Together, they ride hard for camp

Ned and Robert at the Eyrie. Robert is bouncing a toddler in his lap, whilst Ned looks miserable. Robert makes reference to Brandon’s wedding, says Ned might have gone; Ned replies that he doubts Brandon will miss him. Rickard neither for that matter - Ned suspects he had always favoured his brothers. Robert laughs at that, assuring Ned that he’s the best of them - but for a man unbetrothed he could afford to have a little more fun. Ned says sceptically that betrothal has never kept Robert from fun, and Robert laughs, making the toddler (Mya) in his lap laugh too. Robert laughs the harder

Brandon and Edmure meet Rickard in the woods, searching for Lyanna. Rickard tells them that he and Lyanna had fought, and he suspects Lyanna may be sulking somewhere - but these woods are too dangerous for that, and she must be found. The rumours are already abound, too, that she is wild and loose, and he fears for their betrothal if Robert were to find out about this. He rides off, vexed 

Benjen asks Brandon if everything will be alright; Brandon isn’t sure, says he suspects Rickard is more worried than he’s letting on  

Jaime guarding Rhaella in the godswood; he has seen little of her since he took up his post, and notices bruises about her neck - the only part of her uncovered. Rhaella tells Jaime she remembers his mother, talks fondly about her as though talking to herself. She was such a child: giggled a lot, had plenty of daydreams, a sweet girl in her way, before she became lofty Lady Lannister. Jaime isn’t really listening, distracted by her injuries - he asks if she’s alright. Rhaella’s face clouds over; she tells Jaime it’s nothing, and speaks no more

Cut to Aerys in the throne room. Where is his goddamn son??? Rhaegar has not been seen for several nights. Aerys airs the suspicion that Rhaegar rides for Casterly Rock to plot against him with Tywin Lannister. Varys says he shudders to think… but it is said that Rhaegar did not take the Goldroad. Aerys wonders if Jaime Lannister knows something. Gerold Hightower says he’s sure the boy knows nothing. Varys says they can’t know that. Either way - Hightower changing the subject - for all his strength, Rhaegar is vulnerable when riding alone, and should be found. He says he will send two of his own men to find the Prince. Arthur Dayne knows him well, and will doubtless find him in good time 

Elia alone in her rooms, with her children playing at her feet. Rhaenys asks where father is; Elia, feeling too tired to comfort her daughter, simply tells her she doesn’t know. Rhaenys, weepy now, asks if he’s coming back. Elia says she doesn’t know that either. Rhaenys starts to cry, and Elia, looking dead inside, does nothing for several moments before reaching down to pick her up and comfort her. She tells Rhaenys about Dorne, says if father can run away then so can they. They’ll go to the Water Gardens, and Rhaenys can play with her cousin Arianne. Rhaenys asks if father will be sad if they go. Elia says no, she doesn’t think he’d be sad at all

Arthur Dayne in the WST, packing bags. Jaime watches on, asks where he is going. Arthur says to find the Prince. Jaime says he’ll go with him, Arthur says no. Jaime tries to argue, Arthur remains steadfast. Upset, Jaime says that he knows Arthur regrets knighting him, thinks it was a mistake to ever place him in the KG to begin with. Arthur says that isn’t so, it is simply that the King needs him here. For what?? Jaime says the King hates him. Arthur does not deny it, but states simply that there will come a time when the King will have great need of him. Jaime stares at him, perplexed. Ser Gerold Hightower walks in, and says he has an errand for Arthur, yet is startled to see Arthur is packing already. Jaime even more perplexed 

Ned running errands for Jon Arryn in a small town in the Vale. In a tavern, he attracts the notice of a black-haired girl, who flirts with him. Ned is uncomfortable, buts feels some attraction himself. She says she’s noticed him before with his friend, but she’s always liked Ned better. Ned feels himself being drawn in, doesn’t altogether like it - but likes it a little. The girl suggests they go somewhere quieter, and Ned tentatively agrees. As he follows her to the back rooms, she kisses him. Ned is shocked despite himself, and just as they reach the door he declines after all and turns back, embarrassed

Searching the woods for Lyanna. Benjen finds her dried flower crown on the forest floor where she had been the night previous, and runs to deliver it to his father and brother. Rickard and Brandon look at it horrified, till a local arrives with guards to tell them what he saw: Rhaegar rode past their village last night, and he had a girl with him. Rickard in crisis mode: he orders Benjen to return North to hold Winterfell. Benjen tells his father he doesn’t want to leave; he wants to find his sister. Brandon tells him there must always be a Stark in Winterfell (doesn’t explain why there wasn’t one this whole time but I digress), and Rickard tells him that they will return in good time - but not without Lyanna

Cat and Lysa waiting on the parapets for Brandon. Cat wonders why Lysa seems in such a good mood today, and asks her - but Lysa won’t reveal, hums smugly to herself

Suddenly they see Edmure on the horizon, but there’s no sign of Brandon??? The sisters race to the gates and find their father is there already. Edmure, both panicked and confused, tells their father that Brandon has ridden for KL - wtf???

Ned returns to the Eyrie, is told Jon Arryn wants him urgently. Ned bizarrely feels like he’s in trouble, enters Jon Arryn’s solar nervously - finds Robert pacing in rage, and Jon looking sorrowful. There’s been raven etc

Rhaegar and Lyanna riding together. Rhaegar is very quiet, and Lyanna doesn’t quite know where she’s following him to - but follows nonetheless. She asks lots of questions, doesn’t get many clear answers, till Rhaegar reveals he believes they were meant to meet that day at Harrenhal. Had she felt it, too? Lyanna frowns, intrigued, but a little frightened, too. Perhaps she had felt that, too. Rhaegar looks at her, knowingly

[blingblong55]

Sweetness- Simon "Ghost" Riley

Picture credits: @ave661

Based on a request: Hii, I hope this request finds you in good health :)) Could you do a simon riley x reader where the reader is a super soldier who can fly and shoot lasers out of her eyes. They're the new recruit of the team and simon is intrigued by them. They work together and the reader effortlessly destroys the enemies. Then he starts to develop feelings and they end up together :)) Thankss!! Take care <3 ---- F!Reader, superhuman!reader, superhuman!au, friends to lovers?, confessions, fluff?, super soldier!reader ----

In the heart of the bustling city, amidst the chaos and the constant threat of danger, a recruit was about to make her mark on the battlefield. She was no ordinary soldier; she was a super soldier, gifted with extraordinary abilities that set her apart from the rest. With the power to fly and shoot lasers from her eyes, she was a force to be reckoned with.

After working with Laswell in some undercover mission, she finally decides to put you in the military. This was after an attack that led to some dead soldiers, something you could have prevented, had you been there. 

Being the so-called rookie of the team was not fun, every wrong move anyone made was somehow your fault and after three long months of proving yourself to be worthy of respect, Price paired you with the infamous Lieutenant. His usual partner, Soap, was out of the field sometime after a mission flawed. Ghost was more than curious to work alongside you for some time and when the opportunity arose, he was glad he would be able to see your powers on the field.

Simon, being the soldier he is, had seen many skilled soldiers come and go, but there was something different about you. There was a gracefulness to your movements, a confidence that spoke volumes of your capabilities. As you effortlessly took down targets during training exercises, Simon couldn't help but feel intrigued by you.

He approached you after a training session, his footsteps silent as he moved closer. "Impressive work out there," he said, his voice low and steady. You turned to face him, your gaze meeting his with unwavering confidence. "Thank you," you replied, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. "I'm still getting used to all of this." Simon nodded, studying you closely. "You seem to have a natural talent for it," he remarked, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. A blush crept onto your cheeks, and you looked away, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his intense gaze. "I've had some practice," you admitted, your voice soft.

By the time you two had reached the small and torn-down town your mission would take place in, he finally decided to ask a good question. "So, your powers, are they as good as everyone says they are, or are you bullshitting us?" He looks your way, his mask only giving away that cold stare of his. "They are as accurate as can be, Lt-"

"Ghost, call me Ghost," he cuts you off. You nod and try to understand that maybe he didn't like the rank title as much as others would. 

As you two prepare for the long night ahead, he sits down and thinks the plan over and over. Without trying, his gaze falls on you. he observes you with interest. Simon, being the soldier he is, had seen many skilled soldiers come and go, but there was something different about you. There was a gracefulness to your movements, a confidence that spoke volumes of your capabilities. As you effortlessly took down targets during training exercises, Simon couldn't help but feel intrigued by her.

By the time the sun had left the blue skies, Ghost and you prepared to attack the small base. It was a coordinated attack, one he and you had studied and planned for weeks before tonight. He wanted to test your abilities, but he also had to ensure your safety. "Got your six," he mutters before nodding at you as you kick through the door. 

The enemy soldiers shooting at you both, your eyes shooting lasers at them. Most of them lost an arm, leg or both, some got cut in half. Ghost tried to shoot at any moving enemy but shortly, the fire ceased as he stood in shock, watching the so-called piece of art you had made with their bodies. He chuckles, fuck, now he owes Gaz money. 

"how the fuck- how did you even react that fast?" he says, still in shock. You smile, "practice makes perfect, sir," you respond gently, trying not to sound threatening or say something wrong that could freak him out, something you have learned from past encounters. An amused nod and a chuckle later, he extends his hand and shakes yours. "Glad to have you on our side, Y/N," his deep voice no changed for a much softer one. "Glad to be a part of it, Ghost," you smile. 

It had been hours since the mission, and the ride back home was strange, he looked at your eyes, not wanting to read you but to study how from them those lasers just magically appeared and disappeared. How the fuck can they cut a human's arm off? You seem so sweet and gentle but holy fuck you are something mythical he only read about in comics. 

What became such a funny thing to him was who you had become to him. The girl would reach for the high-shelf items but just simply float off the ground like it was nothing and hand them back to him. He would often joke around and purposefully place items on the highest shelf in his office just to see you float off the ground and grab them for him. 

It was like having his very own pretty angel when you'd do this. 

 You were never supposed to be someone to him, not romantically at least. 

Training sessions became stolen glances in hallways, inside jokes, late-night smokes, lingering glances, shared meals in his office, smiles and laughs on lonely nights, phone calls when either of you were away, subtle touches when passing by each other, heart-melting comments and forehead kisses before a mission. 

"Simon?"

"Yes, darling?"

"What's on your mind?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"No."

"It's you, darling," he says as his arms hold you to him. His heartbeat is faster as he kisses your forehead. "I don't want to just be the guy you talk to, I want to be the guy who gives you more than forehead kisses or lets you use his jumpers," he confesses and it makes your breath hitch. Say the right words, he thinks. 

"Simon–"

"You should stay with me. Let me care for you," he says, his hand travelling to your back. "Let me spoil you the way you deserve. Let me protect you, move in with me so I don't have to spend more nights feeling like I need those sweet eyes looking into mine before sleeping."

"Do you want that?" you trace his tattoos and he nods. "I want to have you in my life," his hand travels to the back of your neck, making sure you see the seriousness in his eyes. "I want all my clothes covered in your scent. I want to find your hair in my bed or your makeup on my neck." he leans forward, his eyes pleading for a response. 

Your lips so hesitantly touch his but once you kiss him, he pulls you in, needing those lips of yours glued to his as he finds any cure in them. 

Tags:

@liyanahelena @mangowafflesss @livinginmyreality @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @rvivienner @Krinoid24 @iruzias @frazie99 @idklols @night-mare-owl-79 @saoirse06 @Juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @willowaftxn83-87 @coralwitchdreamland @ikohniik @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @Llelannie @Macnches2 @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @Nyx_Flower @sparky--bunny @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @kaoyamamegami @the_royal_bee @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @asianbutnotjapanese @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @born4biriyani @mychemichalimalance @marshiely @tuihiatus @sleepyycatt @believeinthefireflies95

[jamneuromain]

Revenge Oh So Sweet

Steve Rogers x You (Agent!Reader)

Warning: Revenge (sort of), dick pics, bad language word, fluff? Clintasha if you squint.

Summary: For once, you decide not to put up with this shit anymore.

A/N: Based on the prompt from the bingo challenge. The inspiration came from @rogerswifesblog / @rogerswifesblog-updates (a big smoochie) and my recent experience, there's another experience under the tag #why I hate men. So ... yeah, you get the gist.

Your life-long happiness seems to have been a mutual concern of every Avenger in the compound.

After two not-so-successful relationships and another couple of failed dates, everyone is eager to share their experience or their suggestions as to what could help you find a partner.

"Be yourself." Tony commented on your love life when he accidentally overheard you girls talking in the kitchen, "Trust me, that's how I got Pepper." He said with a smug smile on his face.

Natasha rolled her eyes as Maria tugged the corner of her lips and made a rude - you considered it not so rude, but Tony jumped and felt offended - face.

"Come on, Stark." Natasha huffed out, "That's because Pepper is loyal and devoted. And you can't live without her."

Wanda stayed quiet but nodded like a chicken pecking the grains right in front of her.

"I can introduce the guy working for the IT, nerd, but... cute." Natasha fished out the Instagram of said guy.

Tony grumbled something under his breath as he headed out.

And it was not long before almost everyone on the Avengers team started to give you advices on how to secure a partner/date.

You were nursing over a bucket of chocolate ice cream, your standard medication for sorrows of "not being able to find a boyfriend" the other day when Thor's voice boomed by your ear, "... I am SURE Asgardian warriors would be kneeling at your feet if you could swing the battle sword during a fight."

He smelt like Asgardian mead.

"Thanks, Thor." You appreciated his effort, nonetheless, raising your ice cream bucket for a gestural toast.

Tony snorted at the end of the coffee table, probably having way too much caffeine than he should, and patted Thor on his bicep, "She needs a boyfriend, Point Break, not becoming Arnold Schwarzenegger."

Clint plopped down next to you on the couch, nudging you with his shoulder, gathering your attention, and asked, "Look, why don't you just kidnap some hot dude? That's what Nat almost- HEY!"

He yelled when Natasha threw a couch pillow in his direction, hitting him square in the chest, succesfully shutting him up.

Clint shrugged and gave you a glimpse of sympathy, which you were 99% sure he meant "Sorry kiddo". He shrunk to the corner of the couch, taking a swing of his beer.

"Why not try meeting someone with mutual interest?" Steve carefully pitches his suggestion, he looks at you with a hint of thought, "Like finding someone who shares the same passion over some exercises in the gym."

"Except I'm not a big fan of gyms." You pouted slightly, "But yeah, I guess book clubs and stuff... could work?"

"Gym." Bucky sniggered without even trying to mask his amusement, "Such a Steve thing." After receiving a warning glare from Steve, Bucky moved slightly away from his best pal, and singsongingly added, "I'm sure a candidate is much closer than you'd think."

Sam shook his head. Leaning on the counter of the kitchen, Sam proposed his idea with much delicacy to you, chuckling, "Steve might have a point. You know, maybe get to know your coworker better." Sam said this almost suggestively, a knowing smirk lingering on his lips, "After all, we never frown upon office romance. Not a bad idea to date your coworker as long as they are nice decent people, while you get to have fun."

"Surely redhead is neither nice nor decent." Bucky pointed his finger towards Nat on the far-end chair, whispering loudly.

"Don't get me breaking all your fingers, Barnes. And I'm not only talking about the ones on your right hand." Natasha retorted back, looking as if she was ready to bicker with Bucky again.

Vision, on the other hand, was not comfortable with processing a large conversation with so many participants even though he was able to identify every one of them. However, it was customary for everyone to join the conversation, no matter how they contributed to it. After doing some research in his head, Vision spoke up with confidence, "May I suggest a less time-consuming approach?"

This certainly drew the attention of most people in the room as Rhodey walked in.

"I have been analyzing the data of Miss Y/L/N, and I have come up with a list of results. It is a list of possible partners of Miss Y/L/N." Vision gave some time for this information to sink in before starting the list, "On top of the list, data run came back with a 99.7% matching rate to a book named-"

"A book?" Tony almost sprang from his seat, "HOLD ON. Hold on, for a minute here." He raised his index finger shushing everyone in the room, "What's the book?"

After hearing his question, the room fell into a unison of grumbles. "Seriously Tony?" "You're interested in that book? There's something wrong with..." "Ask him to take another look at the data for Christ's sake-"

Tony rolled his eyes in the most elegant way, "Fine. Vision, would you please erase all lifeless forms of matching in your database and focus on possible 'human' partners?"

A few seconds gone with Vision processing the data in silence, before speaking up, "I have now entered the condition of 'human partner', and the first person with a 99.4% matching rate is Andy Barber, lawyer-"

Gasps and murmurs swirled over the room again.

"...he lives in Newton, Boston, Massachusetts. According to data, he is married to Laurie Barber. Being the leading character of the crime fiction Defending Jacob-"

You would prefer to be drowned in your chocolate ice cream than to have Vision pairing you with a fictional character - even if it's a fictional character that is played by a very handsome actor in the TV series.

That you probably watched more than a dozen times. But still! Fictional!

Rhodey murmured to Tony: "And that's why we still wouldn't apply AI to our weaponary program..."

You groaned in agony, "Vision, I adore you, really. But I really need you to stop-"

"Ya-Da-Ya-Da-Ya-Da-" Tony cut through your sentence, "Vision, no fictional characters, we need real men-"

"Or woman." Wanda squeaked, clearly more amused than everyone else in this room.

"Or woman. Thank you, ponytail," Tony cleared his throat, "Someone who is actually living on the planet right now-"

"Recalculating. Ari Levinson Kidron, former Mossad agent. He is 99.3% compatible. He was renowned for Israel's Operation Moses and Operation Joshua from 1984 to1985."

"Eighties?" Bucky chimed in with mischief sparkling in his eyes, "How old is he?"

"He is currently 78 years old. A movie based on him was released in 2019, starring an actor named Christopher Robert Evans." Vision replied, "Your Netflix history clearly shows a tendency toward strong powerful men with romantic gestures during dating."

You buried your head as deep as the ice cream bucket allowed, "Please, Vision, I'm begging you. Don't leak anymore of my browsing history before I decide to jump into the Hudson River."

Wanda shook her head lightly at Vision, the latter seemed to gain a hint of realization after a while, "Sorry. I have been intrusive. My deepest apologies, Miss. Y/L/N."

You waved your hand in the air to indicate "all is well", but your eyes were still staring into the brown-ish ice cream, which had started to melt.

Shit.

Wanda scooted closer to you, holding her phone in front of your face, she seemed optimistic about what had just happened (even though you were devastated and actually considering being single for the rest of your life).

"What about dating apps?" She showed you a few, swiping men's profiles for you to see, "It's definitely simpler than asking some random people. You can also tell them at the start that you are looking for serious relationships, rather than sex."

Actually, that sounded...

"Thank you, Wanda." You shot her an appreciatiating look.

That sounded like the most solid suggestion anyone has ever made. Especially with the match-making plan of Natasha and the nerdy guy didn't work out, you were willing to try Tinder. Or something similar.

Wanda gave you an encouraging smile, before hugging you on the shoulder and helping you start your own profile on some app. While Sam half-dragged Steve out of the living room, mumbling something about "bats".

After a couple dozen men who wanted "something casual, sorry" and a disastrous night, you scrolled through your dating app to see if anyone has messaged you last night.

You were on an all-nighter mission with your teammates. Due to an unfortunate incident, you had to chase the criminal for about twelve blocks. On foot.

Just got your phone back from your locker, you sagged down on one of the empty chairs by the mission dispatch center, and scrolled through your dating app.

Daveid757: Hi.

You clicked on his profile picture.

"Daveid" is a decent-looking guy with a thin beard and hazel-brown eyes. Tall and broad-shouldered, he held a few 10-foot-long fish in half of his pictures and his different fishing rods in the rest.

Not bad, at least.

You returned to the chatting screen.

[Daveid757 typing]

You should probably say hi back.

Daveid757 stopped typing.

And the next thing you know, a dick pic that took up almost half of your phone screen attacked you right in the face.

A dick.

A at-first-sight-it-was-five-inch-but-some-skin-and creases-are-repetitive-so-it-was-at-most-a-two-inch dick.

A naked dick and his naked thigh.

A tiny but photoshopped dick.

You began to wonder what should you reply at this point.

You sure it's not two inches? No. Basically harmless to a guy who sends dick pics.

Fuck off you prick. No. That came off too strong.

How about I've seen bigger? That could probably trigger his competitiveness, though. You were hoping for something that could make him as furious as how you felt when you received his dick pic.

The sickness of getting a genitalia photo, the rage of being disrespected by men, the grumpiness from your staying up all night, and the frustration of knowing that the "dating app" method was a bust, all united as one .

Although you knew your blood was boiling from all four emotions, they were helpful too, enlightening you with a brilliant idea.

You should get a Nobel Peace Prize for it.

You searched "dick" and selected a dick pic that looked significantly larger and thicker than the one Daveid sent you.

Your dick pic is smooth and pink, clean-shaven, and with a man's hand gripping the foreskin, revealing the angry red tip.

This one looked much better than his.

You looked at this dick pic fondly.

And sent it to him.

Daveid757: You fucking crazy motherfucker.

Daveid757 has blocked you.

His profile picture turned grey, just like the type of picture people will put in front of his casket during his funeral.

Out of nowhere, a surge of euphoria washed over you. Having you doing your best to maintain a calm presence. You try your best not to smirk or giggle, trying your best to keep your lips between your teeth, biting the inside of your mouth from hollering out laughter.

Yeah, you definitely like "your" dick pic better.

While the two dick pics stayed on your screen.

Peacefully. Paying each other respect.

"Hey Y/N," holding his first cup of coffee in hand, Steve emerged behind you in his full tactical suit. He still had an hour before his mission and he decided not to board the jet without a healthy caffeine dose at 5:32 am. He saw you from the break room across the hall, and he just had to say hello to you.

Professional. This is purely professional courtesy!

You seemed undisturbed, gazing into your phone, with a smile ghosting your lips.

Naturally, Steve trotted near, earning a peek to your phone - he didn't intend to be sneaky about it, he only wanted to know what was mesmerizing you - while sipping down some hot hot burning lava hot coffee and -

You're looking at dicks???

"Oh my - Steve! Are you alright?" Shoving your phone into your pocket, you found some Kleenex in your bag and put it into Steve's hand. He choked and coughed violently, whole face flushed red as he waved his hand, stepping away from you, continuing coughing his lungs out.

You were struggling to understand whether he means "No, I'm not alright" or "No, I don't need the Kleenex" or "No, everything is alright". Though you didn't know how the last one worked the way inside your head.

Steve calmed himself after coughing into his palms some more. Shaking his head but accepting your tissue paper: "Yeah I'm - EHEM - 'm fine." Dabbing his suit which now has coffee splatters over his chest, he muttered an almost inaudible "Thank you".

He didn't look you right in the eyes when he was busy cleaning up his mess, but he felt like he had to when he should talk to you about workplace ethics. He finally looked up from the ground with his baby blue orbs, and tried to sound serious with his ears and cheeks blushing: "Y/N, I'm not ... " he winced, "You know I'm not that type of person who ummm... tries to dictate what others do or don't."

"Like Tony?" You scoffed, but the scoff was more directed to Tony rather than Steve. God, you should know better than to let Tony participate in your love life, giving out advices.

Steve manages a smile witth difficulty, "I'm not, but ... I don't ... I would consider ... I uh - I believe genital photos are not workplace appropriate."

You choked out a laugh, fishing your phone from your pocket and showing him, "What, this?"

"God, please, Y/N." He blocked your screen with his leather-gloved hand, becoming visibly more nervous, blurting out but his tone appears to be more begging than commanding, "Not ... here!"

You giggled. The few hours of sleep you had while you were on the plane back from the mission had led you to an unstable mindset. It would be completely insane for the "normal" you to show Steve Rogers, a work fellow, dick pics. But right now? With all those emotions boiling down your veins, the lack of sleep (and apparently, the lack of clear sense) and the sudden euphoria of making Steve nervous, you were feeling bold. Audacious. Felt like you could conquer the world and slam a monster silicone dildo right onto Daveid's face.

So you apologized, though not with much sincerity, and told Steve why you were "watching dick pics" on your phone in your workplace.

"He started it!" After accusing Daveid of sending you dick pics, you whined like a grumpy child, which you definitely wouldn't, if you were not sleep-deprived, but Steve felt like the most trustworthy male person on the planet at that moment, so you spilt your guts and tried to excuse yourself out of the workplace ethics violation that Steve nearly had you reported to HR.

He almost would never. Report you to the HR. But he kept that to himself.

"And it's not my dick. I suppose it's not entirely my fault?"

Steve chuckled soundlessly. It was in fact, adorable for you trying and whining, "Even if it is your dick, you don't send him that until you're out of the compound, okay?"

"I don't have a dick!" You huffed out in a hush voice. Seeing his typical look, the look with the raising eyebrows that says "yes, and-", you put up your hands in defeat, "Okay-Okay. You have a point. No dick pics."

"More like no dating apps scrolling while you're at workplace, just in case." Steve was amused. He thought for a while before making amends, "Tell you what, there's a nice little place in Brooklyn. You free tonight at 7? I'll wine and dine you, and you can tell me about all the awful macho men you've encountered. Promise, no judging."

He looks at you, almost sympathetically, with his crystal blue eyes, making your breath hitch in your throat.

You lowered your head, pretending you need to find your bag before summoning up the courage and shrugging, playing it cool, "Deal, Captain. Be ready for some of the worst men you've ever heard of."

After some most amazing medium rare steak and two glasses of fine-aged red, you were beyond caring (about your little crush of the handsome blonde sitting across you) and exchanged laughs and giggles that were definitely way too loud for a decent date.

You attracted attention, being the most stunning couple in the restaurant (so the "couple" word maybe a little too "ouchy" for you, since you normally spent time admiring Steve from afar), and some glances from other customers were casually thrown this way.

You had to admit, watching Steve in a brown leather jacket and jeans, triggered something inside you that encouraged you to climb him like a tree and slam your lips over his.

Steve chuckled, covering his lips with his fist, temporarily blocking his seductive (and to you, sinning) grin, "I can't believe Daveid is actually nicer among all the douches you've dated. Being a long-term friend of yours, I'd suggest you not to pick up men from dumpsters."

You cast a sour look in his direction, raising the glass to your lips, taking a small sip from the third cup of wine, "I would if I could." Your glass landed on the table with a bit too much force. Faking annoyance, you groaned at the ceiling, "Men are just ... awful."

"Touche." He murmured over his glass, clicking it with yours before downing a big gulp. Feeling bolder than usual, he looked at you right in the eyes, hoping he would convey a message, a hint, anything, "Surely ... there are a few good men out there. But, 80% of them are plain stupid, you know? You gotta ... I don't know, it's not about trying harder, I guess, but ... open to other ... options?"

You snorted, leaning back onto the comfy chair, teasing him, dipping your toes in the water for a second, "Oh, you're spoiling me and trying to get me zero dates in my future since you raised the bar too high, Captain."

He looked more jumpy and edgy after your "captain" comment. His ears and cheek turned pink under the dim yellow restaurant light, "I'm certain that you can have a boyfriend in the future that would be ... nice, to say the least. Apart from your lapse of judgment on this guy," he couldn't help but let slip of his smile, "you have some good friends and I'm sure you'll go on a date with someone better than him, someone better for your relationship, and more deserving for you."

You feigned a gasp of shock, "Are you calling yourself "better"? So competitive, Captain Rogers."

His fluster-ness drained from his face all of a sudden, slightly narrowing his eyes to focus on someone behind you, "I think - Is that ...?"

"What?" You were bewildered.

"The ass who sent you the dick pic." He shifted his focus back to you, "Your four o'clock. Black suit, Caucasian male, 5'7''. He's not looking this way but I'm positive he's the guy."

You spared a glance at him quickly. He did look like "Daveid757" and his profile pictures.

"Fucking hell." You muttered.

"You know what would make him furious? Letting him see you're having the best time of your life." Steve placed his palm on your wrist, giving you warmth and support, "Letting him know what he has missed out."

"Flip my hair and giggle?"

Your words didn't mean to be sarcastic, but they sure came out this way.

"Or we could return to the compound to suit up." Steve kindly offers, "I'll beat his ass until he learns a lady is supposed to be respected."

You drained your wine, teasing him with a dash of liquid courage, "Revenge doesn't suit you, Cap." And I don't want you to get into trouble, even if it is a tempting gesture. You swallowed the latter half of your sentence.

And of course, you had a much better plan...

"Is he looking this way now?" You moved to the seat by Steve's side, making sure Daveid could turn his head and see you with little effort. "Accidentally" having your wine class clatter with your ceramic plate, you made a loud noise for the entire restaurant to hear.

"Yeah but-"

The rest of his words fell on deaf ears, as you cupped his chin and kissed him.

His lips were soft. Grape-flavored with a bitter taste of alcohol. The kiss was sweet, tender, careful even, as he reciprocated your small nibbling, threading his fingers with the base of your hair.

Your liquid courage burnt down faster than you had imagined. Burying your face into his chest, you were rid of all the strength you had to check Daveid - or Steve, for that matter, because on second thought, using Steve to get back at Daveid wasn't such a good idea if Steve misunderstood your feelings as a method to get even with the dick pic dude -

"I hope you haven't fallen asleep, because that guy looked like he could swallow his wine glass. And he broke his plate, dragging his date to leave but - oh ho, now the waiter is asking him to pay for the plate and the wine -" Steve sounded normal, unaffected, calm. On the contrary, you wanted to jump into the Hudson River right this second for kissing Steve and wash off all the embarrassment and nervousness.

"I suppose you need to get some air and not suffocate yourself in my jacket?" He joked, patting on your back almost in a comforting way, while you were still buried into his chest, "Don't worry, the Daveid guy made a bigger scene and now he got kicked out of this place."

Your hair must be awful. The move messed up your hair, and your lipstick no doubt. And ruining your make-up. And you couldn't face Steve knowing that you kissed him and this - you are going to be a joke to the whole compound within 48 hours.

"But if you don't say another word for five seconds, I'm going to presume that you are losing consciousness and perform CPR in front of the whole restaurant."

You sat up reluctantly, wiping the outline of your lips and possible lipstick smudge without a mirror. Pouting.

"Or how about being my fake girlfriend for five minutes and we will show Daveid that we are a happy couple?" Steve observed your expression, making yet another proposal.

He was sweet. He was really sweet offering all these choices for you and your pathetic dating app experience but all you wanted was - "How about being real girlfriend." You grumbled under your breath.

"Sorry?"

"Never mind." You shook your head and decided to put this delightful dinner time behind you, "Let's -"

"You mean it?"

"Huh?"

His crystal blue eyes searched your features, searching for signs that you wanted him, wanted this, wanted you two to be a thing. It was cliche and a chance in a million, having his friend -you falling in love with him, but so were myths and superheroes. He liked his odds.

"Would you," He spoke, painfully slow, "like to be my girlfriend? Not because of revenging. But because I want it to work. Because I love you and I want to kiss you. Because you feel the same way, and finally, you can help put my misery of seeing you dating other people to a stop. I want to date you," he thought for a small while before adding, "exclusively."

The sun must be rising from the west, or the sea must be pouring back into rivers, or the dead must be alive from their graves.

A most-amazing miracle was happening.

Because the next thing you knew, you nodded and he pulled you into his warm hug.

And offered you one of his many sweet, sweet kisses.

Bonus:

You sneaked back to the compound, holding hands, grinning like fools, feeling like the first day of being in love.

You walked past the living room with Vision in the corner still knee-deep in his thoughts, calculating, or searching.

"It seemed the most fitting human candidate is Captain Steve Rogers, with a 99.2% match." The sudden voice startled you both, but Vision raised his head and greeted you, "Ah. I see that my data is no longer needed. Congratulations on finding a perfect partner, and good night, to you both."

You whispered a "Night" as Vision drifted towards his chamber.

Turning around when you noticed Steve went silent, you saw him scratching the back of his head, just a little bit annoyed.

"I rank behind a book and two fictional characters?"

[oneatlatime]

The Blind Bandit

I had honestly forgotten that the Gaang were trying to find an earthbending teacher, so the 'previously on' segment was actually useful instead of spoilery.

Nobody's face is having a good time.

Look at this sweetheart. You go ahead and treat yourself honey. You've single-handedly escorted a pair of earth-shatteringly overpowered tweens around the world for months; the least you deserve is a shopping trip.

"You kids like earthbending?" Has the same energy as "wanna buy a sun dial?" from that animated Hercules movie.

This guy is one of those strip mall karate types.

I take back everything I ever said about Zuko's season 1 haircut. This guy has a dust bunny poop on his head.

Momo's bag now.

My absolute favourite girl power: incredible violence!

The acoustics at this earth rumble place must be great. I don't see any microphones.

"That's what I paid for." Sokka is a simple creature at heart. Likes food and violence.

Something very strange about this guy's face. I think his mouth moves but his eyes don't.

So apparently earthbending gets you mad air.

Oh! I get it. This is a WWE parody. Somebody on the writing team did their homework too. Don't ask me how I know, but this is a very accurate parody.

Sokka thinks listening to big muscles is a very good idea actually.

And here's the heel. Complete with russian accent. And oddly homoerotic anthem. And cowardice when challenged! Yep, total heel.

I LOLed at the zamboni badgermoles and hockey organ.

She's like two feet tall!

I'm. in love.

I could watch little girls beat up grown men all day.

Earthbending sonar?

Omigod it predicts. She can see moves before they happen.

Well it's a good thing Bumi said to look for someone who Waited and Listened rather than Watched.

"I don't really want to fight you. I want to talk to you." Says the guy who just volunteered, in front of a full stadium, to FIGHT her. Time and place, Aang.

Get back on the ground you flighty airbender. She sees with that ground. No fair.

This is about the face I made when Aang pulled that move. Does this boy think at all? I love him, but what part of stealing her well-earned title is supposed to convince her to talk to him?

You messed up.

I love sartorially inclined Sokka. It's a tiny an innocuous little trait, but it rounds out his character so well.

I get to watch two different girls terrorise idiots this episode. I am blessed.

So I'm guessing the two idiots at the earthbending academy are doing that excercise where kung fu people stick their hands in sand (I've seen videos of it) but it really looked like they were in the 'beat back the dough' phase of making bread.

In this universe of plot-convenient clothing blindness, how do Dumb and Dumber recognise Aang as the one who beat the Blind Bandit?

I think the voice actor for the dumb kid with actual hair did a bunch of voices in season 1. The soldier who gives Aang Bato's map comes to mind.

Have I said recently how much I love Sokka and Katara?

These wrestling guys keep switching between first and third person. Too many rocks to the head.

This could be a board for a murder mystery board game. Or a map for a DND dungeon.

It's her hair. I thought the Blind Bandit had a cap type thing with a little brim for her costume, but it's just a pile of her hair? Like a beehive?

A lesson in character writing: if you want to make someone look super dumb, have them earnestly believe in the credentials and authenticity of a guy you have previously set up as a borderline con artist. Lookin at you, Blind Bandit's dad.

"Basic forms and breathing exercises only." That line is just so funny. And they're all so stupid. She snapped like half a dozen spines last night and this guy is preaching breathing exercises.

Wow! I hate her dad!

I hate him more!

Sokka going ham on some rice rather than listen to the idiots. Good priorities.

This passive aggressive fight between the girl and Aang at the dinner table is so fun.

Looking for somewhere to store your meal after you've face planted into it? Try the top of your head!

I need to get a hold of some of those magic napkins. Wiped up a whole multicourse meal in like 5 seconds.

That is indeed the appropriate reaction to this pint sized badass. Glad Aang is learning. (Also this episode needs more Appa. The last couple have been sadly bereft.)

Called it. Earthdending sonar. Or is it more like echolocation? No! Whiskers!

How does this pint sized badass - who if I am understanding correctly, is not known to exist outside the walls of her house - have more emotional intelligence than the entirety of the Gaang put together?

So much for the guards in the garden. They'd actually be useful now.

Sokka. Priorities. Although given how many times Aang has escaped custody/kidnapping he's probably ok to take a minute to fangirl over an autograph.

These idiot parents don't know their daughter at all. That chafes.

"I'm not smiling." I LOLed at that too. Perfect delivery.

Hippo man having a snack before he gets down to business. No wonder he's missing teeth.

All this blind and tiny and helpless and fragile talk is really making me hope someone smacks the crap out of the dad. What an awful thing to say, nevermind saying it where your daughter can hear.

SMACKDOWN INCOMING

This is gonna be good.

If this girl does join the Gaang the writers are going to have to nerf her in every major conflict. She's too powerful. I bet she could take on the firelord now.

And that's why you don't announce sneak attacks.

So remember how Sokka was absolutely losing his shit over the Boulder? That's me right now.

She waits. All these idiots are losing because they're getting impatient and attacking first. Which means that, to her senses, they're telegraphing their moves. That is so cool. And so is this visual.

Here's your chance Dad. Are you going to mess it up?

"I love fighting. I love being an Earthbender. And I'm really really good at it." me:

I don't have words for how much I LOVE when little girls STAND UP for THEMSELVES and THEIR INTERESTS. This would have had me HOLLERING if I'd seen it as a kid. It was a message I needed to hear too.

Wow I want to kill her parents.

OH FUCK OFF

COME ON

You made my girl cry.

Get wrecked belt stealer. I LOLed at this too.

Sokka just beaned a blind girl on the head. Not a good look. I laughed though.

Fun fact: everyone in this picture is a piece of shit.

I haven't been this steamed since Zuko's dad burned half his face off.

Final Thoughts

IT WAS SO GOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Seriously, this episode feels like it's movie quality. This show is usually excellent, but this feels like a cut above. I feel like I could sense the love the writers, animators, voice actors, everyone had for this episode. They had a good time making it and were enthusiastic about it. And there were lots of tiny background details in this episode too. I'm sure I missed quite a few. Oh No! I'll have to rewatch it!

New team member! That hasn't happened since Momo. Actually, no wonder the episode was so good. Introducing the first new team member in at least a season's worth of episodes is a delicate operation. I bet they were workshopping this episode since early in the first season.

And Toph! (thank you credits for how to spell that - I was really hoping it wasn't Toff). Be still my heart I love Toph. She may well take Sokka's spot as my favourite character. Strength of character, self-assurance, emotional intelligence, badassery, mastery of violence, what's not to love!!!

How did she get so emotionally intelligent and articulate if her parents have kept her caged her whole life? I don't know but I'm not complaining!

How did her parents get away with caging her for her whole life? I do know (money) and I am complaining. Very much so. And yet Toph can still find it within herself to have an honest conversation with them, including apologising for leaving said cage. I never would have had the maturity to do that in a similar situation. I would have gone the Katara explosive rage route.

A little girl who stands up for herself. Against HER PARENTS. I just. Do you know how amazing that is? Especially in a kids' show? I was ROBBED by not being able to see this show when I was Toph's age.

Does bending work like a muscle, in that you build up stamina? Because if so, then Toph is the strongest human earthbender in the world by default. If she's using it in place of seeing, then she's using it 100% of the time that she's awake, all day every day. By the time she was like 5 years old she'd probably used her bending more than the average earthbender does in their whole lifetime.

My one complaint is Toph's voice. Nothing wrong with it; this is a me thing. It fits her perfectly, but my ears do not play well with nasal voices, which hers is. I had to rewind quite a few times and resorted to subtitles by the end. Hopefully I'll get used to it like I did Zuko's.

Sokka! My soon to be demoted beloved! He shone in this episode. I love that he has fashion sense and is not afraid to show it. I'm thinking, what with how hung up he was on masculinity at the start of the show, that the water tribes have a different conception of masculinity: one that classes fashionability as a masculine or gender neutral trait. Even back in season one it didn't take much to get Sokka into the Kyoshi warrior uniform, and he's shockingly good at applying face paint symmetrically. Which I still cannot do with winged eyeliner.

Katara! Not headed for a career in diplomacy but so satisfying to watch. I would love to have a Katara in my pocket that I could unleash on people. And her and Sokka bouncing off each other this episode was great. Every one was at peak performance this episode, except Aang. Not at his brightest this episode.

Checking for typos before I post this and I realise I'd already forgotten that Toph is blind! Just like in the Northern Air Temple, this is how you do disability right: as just a part of who they are, rather than an entire personality. This show is so good.

In sum, Toph: