#in my first failed attempt i gave the guy more money

[claire-starsword]

oh ho ho. found a FAQ on weapon forging and still kinda unsure of it, making this thing was not a first try attempt and i could swear i did the recipe, but whatever we’ll figure it out eventually. This is still a game changer, so many enemies in this game are flying or undead. And I have the Tempest Ring for more 200% damage to flying ones, i wonder how absurd it is gonna be

[errielovesu]

Sesshomaru x Fem!Reader (smut)

Cw: Violence, drugging, breeding, oral sex, sex in general, humiliation (?), mentions of sex work/prostitution

A/N: first smut, first fan fic what feels like since 2021, I would’ve wrote this in second person pov but I just ended up doing first pov, I hope you enjoy (^^)

Word count: 2,131 words (wow)

The flash of blush that passes through my body could be enough to warm me up…foggy vision and no knowledge of what or where i’m at.

“Wake up.” I hear a voice say, funny that this thing thinks i’ve slept, I sit there immobile, i’m not afraid but i’m unsure on how to address the current situation. “I know you heard me, you low level thing” thing? i’m not some thing? I slowly peak my head towards the door where the voice comes from, tall, long haired, that’s as much as my eyes can figure out. “Who are you? What did you do to me? Where am” I got cut off by the sudden steps towards me, slowly he comes into my vision.

A demon! “Tell me, why does your kind always say so many words with no meaning.” I asked what I think are very meaningful questions! “What do you want” I snark, quickly i’m met with pain. He slapped me. He slapped me? “Do you not seem to remember? You tried to kill me. Pathetic attempt as you failed miserably and got yourself into this situation.” he said, his voice deep and cold, he reaches down and pets my back, leaving a trail of goosebumps along my body, “i’m not sure I understand, before coming here i was…? i was?” I don’t remember anything at all, “What? You can’t recall your stupid actions, can’t you own up?” I shiver, usually I can get out these situations with a quick smile and wink but I sure this time it might be over for me.

“My name is Lord Sesshomaru” Lord? who actually is this guy. “Lord..?” I stammer out, “Yes, that’s what I just say did I not?” yet another smart ass response, he slowly sits down in front of me, his face more visible now, “Lord Sesshomaru whatever I did i’m sure I can fix but I don’t wish to be tied down like livestock.” I don’t think i’ve been here for a short period of time, i’m starving and weak, I need to do whatever I need to do to get this so called demon lord to release me. “You can fix?” Slowly his hand approached my face, the stands of hairs framing my face get moved out the way, his long nails caress my face enough to give me goosebumps once again, my body is afraid but i’m not, I want out of this place. “If you claim you can fix this attempt of murder that you tried to commit, what shall you do?” Trying to make out his face for some kind of weakness but I fail once more, i’m blind into this, only a figure talks to me, “I can pay you a lot of money, I kn—“ Pain meets my face one more, the familiar slap i felt before, “I’m not in need of money you pet” this time his voice scares my body once more, my body is slowly becoming numb, my joins hurt and i’m losing hope, money always works? everyone wants money? “What do you want then, demon.” I spit out almost defeated, his hand reaches out, I prepare for the slap i’ll get, “You’re willing to do anything? Without denying me?” No slap? Anything? What is he thinking, i’m afraid now, my senses slowly returning and I can smell this place, i’m terrified. “What do you need, Lord?” I vomit out, I don’t enjoy feeling defeated this way. “What is it that your body can do?” My body? Oh. My pride swallowed the fact I am naked, I look down to my figure, my breast, my core, quickly I pull my legs to my chest covering myself, he reaches out and slams my legs down to their original position, “You said anything to get out, you can’t fight? you’re too weak…you should just give up yourself to me now.” Give myself up? Slight beads form in my eyes, I gave up this kind of work ages ago, “I know what kind of filthy work you did…it’s no secret you used to give yourself up to other demons” Sesshomuro? Have I worked with him before? “Yeah I did, years ago, are you forming some kind of revenge plan because I didn’t do you?” My mouth is going to get me killed, “You didn’t do me because I would never pick some thing to help me through my issues, your body wouldn’t even be able to hand my touch” His cold voice makes me want to snark at him, his hands reach out to me once more, this time i’m afraid of where he might reach, my breath hitched his hand wonders around my neck, afraid he’ll lower his hands more my body trembles in his touch, my hands tied behind me and my ankles tied as well. Sesshomuro gets up and leaves the room quickly he comes back with a tea cup, “You should drink this. I don’t want to mess with such a weak body” He holds up the cup to my mouth, I drink the liquid, not to worried what it could be from the strong smell of tea the tea cup gives out, slowly I consume the liquid, my body feels warm again. “I’ll be back.” He closes the door behind him, a big sigh leaves my body when seconds later I lose consciousness.

“You can’t handle anything can’t you?” A muffled voice interrupts my sleep, “You’re body is warmer than usual. Pathetic how the body can submit itself.” What is he talking about, my eyes feel too heavy to open and my body even heavier to move, my face is lifted up by his cold hand, “Tell me human, why is it that your body yearns for me” I can’t formulate a coherent sentence for him, “Too stupid to talk?” His thumb caresses my lower lip, slightly parting my lips together his cold finger slithers its way inside my mouth, “If you’re mouth is this warm I wish to see what other places are.” My eyes slowly wake up once more, his face close to mind, his finger in my mouth it’s all so weird and I can’t process anything around me, his finger slips out of my mouth, “Please what do you want from me?” I whine out in desperation, my body slowly regaining strength, “I want you to serve me with your body” My body snaps away from him in protest, I don’t want to ever touch a demon in that way ever again…I promised myself. My thoughts merge together I can’t formulate thoughts again, what is going on with me. “Seems that it’s finally taking action, wether you want to or not your stupid cunt will be attracted to me”

What? I feel a heat rush through my body, my heart beat accelerating, Lord Sesshomaru drugged me? For sex? I can’t think straight, slowly I feel it, the wetness build up on my sex, my nipples hard and my face flushed, “Shouldn’t you be embarrassed? hah..your body is dripping for me you animal.” My body is too weak to stop his advance, his face close to mine, his hands grab my waist and pick me up, my legs wrap onto his body uncontrollably my body needs to be close to his, I need friction, my body needs pleasure, it feels as he’s carrying me away, shortly my body is pressed into a floor, Sesshomaru towering over me and my body, he lowers down and kisses me, not gently, these are desperate kisses, sloppy kisses, my body only responds by kissing him as well, the interchanges of kisses fuels my body more, I need more, Sesshomarus hand slowly wonder on my body, caressing my neck till he reaches my harden nipples, he isn’t afraid to start playing with them as he stops kissing me and moves his mouth towards my neck, he pushes his teeth into my neck, my body is feeling so much pleasure I can’t feel any pain, I want more. He cups my breast and slaps them, the feeling only fueling my desire for more, his hand move to my face and quickly he lifts me up, “Your mind has sure changed, you’re wet and warm” looking up to him his eyes are red, his fangs longer than before and quickly he grabs my hair and positions me right on his lap, my face…close to his cock, it’s begging to be taken out, “You’ll do me a big favor you pathetic whore” he’s sitting down and i’m on all fours, my ass up in the air exposing everything there is to hide, he slowly pulls his twitching cock out, no time is wasted when he pulls my face straight down, stuffing my mouth with his giant member, I slurp and bob my head for his pleasure, he moves his hand and grabs my ass in the air, my ankles still bonded together pushing my thighs together, Sesshomarus finger wander around my body till he gives in and starts running his finger down my slit, wet and warm, all he can think about his shoving himself deep in me. His other hand pulls my mouth from around his cock, he grabs my face and leads my body to his lap, my dripping sex begging for his cock to fill it up, “You help yourself to it, i’m not going to do everything for you” Slowly I start to position his big head around my entrance, i’m afraid he’s too big for me and he’ll break me, when I slowly ascend into him, Sesshomaru slams himself inside me, he isn’t gentle, rapid strokes meet my core, I can’t help but let out moans and whines, my breast bouncing on his face as his red demon eyes seem to almost want to eat me whole, hands tied behind back as he forces and uses me as his doll, he growls and hums as I squeeze around him. “You gave up this work for what reason? Your tight cunt should always be put to use, you’re unbelievably stupid for doing this, you’ll have to endure me for however long I want” Sesshomaru snarks at me, he stops and throws me on my stomach, positioning himself once again and slamming himself in me, my cunt swallowing every single inch of his cock, unsure how i’m taking him so well I only have pleasure in my head, I need to finish, I need to make him finish, his cold hand lift me up and once again he sinks his teeth into my neck this type more aggressive than before, moans escape my mouth and I can’t contain it anymore, it feels so good, he feels so good, he throws me back on bed and drags my ass up again, slamming once more into me, his hand grabbing

my hips and i’m used like his doll again, all I feel is him. His strokes start to get more sloppy as I feel him twitch inside me, I can’t help but beg for him, beg for his seed in me, i’ve never gotten any in me and right now my body is only asking for it. “The stupid thing wants my cum? Are you even deserving of such treatment, to carry my off spring inside you?” I can’t help but just nod at his words, I want every single drop he has to offer, his strokes filling up every single part of my canal, begging more he shoves his finger in my mouth and forces me up, he cover my mouth with them as he becomes more aggressive, his cock feeling bigger than before in me, my muffled whines and begs only makes him go even faster and faster, he keeps going until I feel it, everything inside me, the warm liquid filling up my womb as he keeps fucking it into me, more whines follow my climax as I clench around his cock and shiver in pleasure. Sesshomaru quickly removes himself from inside me and flips me over, his tounge swirling around his bite marks as he cleans up my blood, his face, his hair, everything you see. He leaves the room and snarks, “If you did give up such work years ago, why does your body still swallow me up everytime, what would others think? A human girl submitting herself to yet another powerful demon, think about that while my warm seed is inside you, farewell.”

[ilydeku]

‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎How to Love a Hero

‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎← menu →

01. ENCOUNTER

‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎9:13pm | Fri, April 28

Pen Square, a not-to-shabby small bookshop conveniently located just remote to your apartment. It's name was well unknown and there weren't many avid customers to preserve it, but you didn't mind at all—you pretty much kept its existence intact. It was like the bookshop practically belonged to you. The oakwood bookshelves that gave off a sort of earthy scent, the beanbag chairs that lie at every corner, the novels old and new practically whispering your name everytime you strolled down an aisle. Not to mention that the shop owner was quite gracious of you being a regular, and quickly caught on to your favorite genres and plots. There was just no bookstore like ol' Pen Square.

"Looking for something sweet, hm?" The owner grins, propping up their arm on the register table. They've noticed your fixation, a slow circling pace around the romance shelving.

"Eh. Just looking for now." You answer with a shrug. "Trying to see if I can find something new besides my series. Oh, isn't the new one out yet?" You inquire and they answer by a show of the newly released novel of the series in hand.

With great excitement, you beelined toward the register, but that joy was quickly plucked from your chest and replaced with fear as one of the bookshelves suddenly came towering over you.

Fortunately, the bookshelf caught onto the next like a failed domino attempt, caging you from harm, except for the tumbling rain of volumes.

"Ah! I'm so sorry—are you alright?" An anxious voice exclaimed from behind the inclined bookshelf. Chips of oakwood were scattered around you on the old floor, along with books opened and flipped over. The owner quickly came running to the scene, first to squawk at the one responsible, then to assist you out of the situation.

"—now clean up this mess or so help me—you okay dearie? You're not hurt are you?"

You shake your head as you're pulled out from under the unfolded ruckus, taking a quick glance at the person gathering the stray novels. But as he looked up, you couldn't help the slightest bit of entrance. He was a burly young man, verdant disheveled curls that framed his plain, but pleasant face adoringly. Curious round eyes and emerald irises, virtually glowing at the sight. The light blue sweater cascaded over his black tee and shorts loosely, red shoes creasing as he sat up to mind you more clearly. He spoke gently, his voice placate and collected.

"Hey, I'm really sorry about that. I was just looking for a couple comics," elaborated he, his eyes darting to the mess before him. "But then I saw these books under the bookshelf and well...I guess I didn't realize they were supporting it." A guilty, lopsided grin played across his lips. No surprise to you that that bookshop couldn't even stand on its own. The owner escorted you back to the register and handed you the new edition, sealed and bagged with care, along with a few other nick nacks.

‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎!! Accolade Aquired:

‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Sour Dreams" Soft Candy !!

You were quick to take out your wallet and the money, but the owner stopped you, sliding it back and simply noted: "It's on the house...for the troubles." A dirty look casted in the direction of the guy on all fours.

The muffled chittering of crickets began to arouse as the great dark descended over the skies. It was getting late, and you knew better than to stay up the day before work. The 12 hour shifts at the hospital will absolutely bite you in the back in return.

Thanking the owner, you turn to step out into the night, but you find yourself momentarily glancing back toward the guy with verdant hair and the illuminated streets just outside the entrance.

‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎What will you do?

[acowardinmordor]

Rumor Has It

Found this in my drafts and don't really remember writing it. I know it was prompted by a post I saw, but I can't find it . The only other thing I know is true in this AU is that Steve is not aware he isn't straight.

-

Eddie didn't trust the rumors that plagued Hawkins. He heard them just like everyone else, sometimes he'd chase down more details if it interested him, but he didn't trust them at first contact the way that most of the denizens of the town seemed to. The ones that faded away in a few days were obviously fake. The ones that lasted weeks probably had some grain of truth. But this one, now six months old, but still only whispered about, should have been counted as truth. If it lasted that long, it had to be true. Eddie still didn't trust this one.

Not when it was a rumor that was, quite literally, the stuff of his dreams.

Steve Harrington was gay.

According to rumor.

The story started sometime after he got dumped by Wheeler and got his shit rocked by Hargrove. Eddie didn't know where it came from, but he heard it said for the first time a few weeks later. Hargrove never said that it was why Harrington got beat to hell, but he gave a nasty grin if the topic came up that implied a hell of a lot about Harrington on the rebound.

And Eddie didn't trust that. He didn't trust it when Tommy H started telling tales from their freshman year. Or when some of the guy's attempted-hookups started talking.

Eddie didn't trust it because it spread fast, stuck around, had plenty of sources, but it also never got said to Harrington's face. And if there was one thing that Eddie was sure of, it was that no one in that damn town had a problem throwing out slurs if it was even possible someone was different.

According to the rumor mill, that was because Harrington's dad had a connection with the mayor and enough money to bring the police down on anyone that started something. So it remained a rumor, remained in the background, and Eddie remained unconvinced.

Until Eddie went to the mall.

Embarrassing uniforms to earn minimum wage was not evidence. Though it was eye candy.

A different facet of the rumor said that Harrington Sr made Steve get the job as a punishment for the facade of heterosexuality slipping. So, no, the ridiculous, awful, wonderful, slutty little sailor suit didn't count as evidence of the guy's sexual or romantic preferences.

The lip gloss, on the other hand...

And maybe some eyeliner and mascara, but Eddie hadn't gotten close enough to be sure that wasn't his imagination.

And even then! That wasn't proof. A straight guy could use makeup. They didn't, they flipped out at the very concept, but in theory, it was possible.

Eddie wanted to know. Nay, he needed to know. His dreams, and his junior-year-crush demanded answers. Eventually, the temptation of fruit of knowledge grew to be too much.

Slipping into line behind a trio of girls, Eddie watched as Steve deployed the charming smile that had melted the hearts of half the school. Plus Eddie's. He watched it fail to work, catastrophically, and after six months of hearing this rumor and resisting the lure of believing it, he figured: fuck it, go for broke.

If it was bullshit, he'd get to be the one who broke the news to the guy, which might finally be enough to kill that stupid crush of his when Steve flipped out at the insult of the implication.

On the other hand, if it was true....

"Hi, welcome to Scoops Ahoy!"

"Well, hi there, sailor boy," Eddie flirted.

-

This is a hot potato fic. Continue it, steal it, whatever you please.

[forthevillains]

I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ANSWERED OMG— okokok THANKS, and sorry but if it's confusing, it's because English is not my first language.

I was thinking about Albert Wesker with Fem!Reader being a poor woman; from a negligent family, with a disastrous job and in general, a miserable life. He takes the same simple interest in her as he did in the later mother of his child (if we're talking about the canonical story of the game), but what if Fem!Reader rejects him? How would Albert react to a woman saying 'no' to him after he offers her financial security, sex and money?

I have a little theory that he would have sexist ideas about women like Fem!Reader, who aren't looking for something better for themselves—but the truth is that his ego was bruised, and eventually he is drawn to her even more strongly. Such is the intensity of his longing for this woman that Albert questions whether it would be right to continue, considering that he gets bored of people quickly.

In a nutshell? I'm thirsty for a pathetic and perverse Wesker, desperate to conquer and possess a woman who isn't the least bit interested in him. He would become more and more insistent, bordering on insanity and obsession for her.

Sorry, I got hooked watching Wesker's edits and that's how I got hooked lmao😔

Ok no I love this idea too much. I apologize beforehand if it feels a little rushed, but I hope you’ll still enjoy!

You were nothing but a disappointment to all of your surroundings. Since you were a child, you were abused, mostly mentally by both of your parents. You were unwanted, someone who wasn’t supposed to be alive at all. Growing up poor, with no friends or family to support you made you depend on no one but yourself and as the time went on, you ran away from your abusive parents to begin your own life with high hopes of money, partner and success. Your mind was filled with visions that were not only unreal for someone like you, but also difficult to achieve for a regular person.

It was no surprise you ended up on the streets, thrown out of the school where you purposely failed every single subject only to not see your terrible classmates ever again. It was a terrible sight, truly, even for passersby, but no one as much as stood up for you or gave you any sort of financial support. That was until another young woman acknowledged the only thing that you had - beauty. And so you ended up being a prostitute at just 16 years old.

You felt pathetic, especially the first few years in your newfound job that did you no good. It was a traumatic experience to say the least and you could barely afford the rent by yourself. You had to live with a few other girls to keep on surviving like that. No matter how hard you tried, how beautiful you looked, there was no one else to buy you except for the creeps and drug dealers that were desperate for a woman to warm their bed just for a night. You spent most of the time in other people’s places, in uncomfortable positions, hell once a guy even attempted to lock you in his basement.

You had to improve yourself, to learn how to stand up for yourself, to stay protected and with the help of the girls who were doing it for longer than you have - you managed it. You’ve become a confident woman, no matter how miserable you felt at times, no matter how disgusting a man that chose you was, you went with it. You became good at one thing finally, that being seducing men and stripping them off all their money.

It came to the point where you were able to choose your customers as more handsome men approached you, whether the age was appropriate, you cared not. What became important to you was their treatment. They had to respect you before and after the intercourse. That was your only requirement.

But little did you know as you were walking through the streets of the city, pretending to be someone you were not, you caught an eye of the devil himself. Not only were you too beautiful for a man’s eye to miss, but the way you acted, talked so highly as if you weren’t a literal whore to be sold… It made a certain man more than interested to find out just who the hell you are.

Wesker was curious about you, truly, yet he soon got to know the truth. He was quick to find out your true nature, that you’re just pretending. Something in him just wanted to test the waters around you, to just play with you a little.

He’s found his way to you, paying you for a night, for the entire night. You couldn’t say no to a man like him, so handsome, beautiful and yet mysterious. He caught your eye as well, just as he thought he would. Not only that, he proved to be more than just a good lover, bringing you pleasures you haven’t even dreamt of, especially when you were the one getting money for it. Wesker definitely made sure to shower you with attention that night, he did it purely for himself though, to satisfy his ego, to have you all over him the next day, to wrap you around his finger just like all the previous women in his life. It was nothing but a sport to him.

You’ve fallen asleep as the morning slowly approached and when you woke up, he was already dressed again, sitting on a chair he pulled beside the bed to watch you the entire time, observing, thinking… He’s grown to a conclusion that he could definitely get something more from you. He’d come up with an offer he was almost certain you couldn’t turn down.

"Good morning, dearheart,” his blue eyes bore into your sleepy ones when you opened them, the unexpected sound of his voice nearly making you jump. You blinked a few times, rubbing your eyes as you slowly sat up.

"Morning…” you mumbled and just tried to realize what really happened last night. It was tough after how much he exhausted you… It was unusual as barely any man you’ve been with managed to go for more than just two rounds. And that goes without even making you come at all. Wesker on the other hand… "You know you could’ve left, right?”

He gives you a small smile when you mention it. "I’m not that type of a guy.”

You chuckle at that. "You must be pretty rich then.” And then you get up, collecting all your clothes from the ground. Only when you go to pick up your bra that was laying by his feet, he catches you by the wrist, making you look at him.

"Aren’t you tired of doing this?” he questions.

"Doing what?” You answer with yet another question and forcefully rip your hand away from him, finally picking up the last piece of clothing.

"Selling yourself.”

You almost laugh out loud while you’re getting dressed, ignoring how his eyes keep slipping from your face to your body as it’s still not completely covered. "You haven’t paid me enough to answer personal questions.”

"Would you answer them if I offered you a better life, then?”

You raise an eyebrow in curiosity. "And that would be?”

He stands up finally, walking up to you, towering over you and only now do you realize how big he really is compared to you. Slightly scary even. He reaches out his hand to touch you, caressing one of your cheeks softly, then tracing your jaw only to grip your chin tightly when he reaches it. "You are quite a unique woman, I must admit. I’ve not laid my eyes upon a more beautiful one, to say the least. What would you say to an exchange of services, hm? You could easily earn a home, everything that you’d want or need and maybe if you’d be good enough, you’d earn a husband as well.”

Your eyes widen in shock. You just stare at him for a moment, trying to process what he’s just told you. And then it hits you. The urge to laugh, at him. So you do, pushing his hand away.

His expression changes to a confused one as you seem to make fun of him. And he doesn’t take it lightly.

"That’s definitely going to be a no,” you snort, not taking his offended look to heart.

"That wasn’t a joke.”

"I’m sorry, but you must be delusional to think I’d ruin my life further more for a man I barely know. You may be good looking, but that doesn’t make you special,” you finally calm down a little, but there’s still a smile tugging at your lips even though you try your best to suppress it.

"Ruin? I’m offering you help, you, a literal prostitute. What other opportunity do you think you’ll get?” He’s getting pretty pissed and it’s more than noticeable.

"I don’t need one. I’m rather going to continue selling my body than giving someone a soul to keep,” you finally get serious also. You turn on your heel, grabbing the money he left for you on the nightstand, planning to leave.

"You’re going to regret that! Enjoy your pitiful life as a hooker!” He shouts behind you, with no intention in stopping you. He’s shocked, pissed, even embarrassed slightly. How could you say no to him? How could you prefer a routine such as atrocious as yours over living with him? He didn’t get it. But he still let you go. For now.

Days passed, weeks even and you haven’t heard of him, to your surprise. Although he’s thought of you, repeating that dialogue in his head all over again every single day. He’s not special? Him? Do you really think you’re better than him? He couldn’t get it through his head. You weren’t better in anything, you were just a poor woman with no proper life or education. Wesker couldn’t get it off his mind, your rejection should’ve been a sign that he could move on with his life like nothing happened. He hasn’t spent that much on you anyway… But for some wicked reason, he couldn’t move on. A woman like you rejected him, how fucking embarrassing. He wouldn’t let this slide.

And he didn’t. Two months after that incident, you’d come back to your apartment on fire, getting to know all your friends that lived with you died inside and couldn’t be saved. That there was not a chance for them to make it out. You’ve lost your all. No one was able to tell how it happened, whether it was accident or not. Wesker took care of it. No one would know. He knew it’d break you even more, losing the little you had, knowing you’d cry so badly you’d lose yourself in the grief. You had nowhere to go, once again, no one to talk to… And he’d wait only a while till he’d be back with his offer, knowing you wouldn’t turn him down this time. The suspicion be damned, he didn’t care if you knew it was him. He wanted to stay true to his words and oh did you regret rejecting him the first time…

[mystery-star]

Occupational Hazard - Spock

Pairing: Spock x fem!reader

Warnings: robbery and insults

Words: 717

Please do not repost my work on other sites or platforms!

-

You had never believed that there would somewhere be a planet that was almost exactly like Earth during the early 20th century. And while the inhabitants did not call themselves ‘human’ one could almost think you had just landed in an old, American city. Since the Captain had been fascinated to find out more and put together a landing party. Since the aliens looked very similar except for two single facial ridges, you even could meet the natives, of course pretending you were from the planet too. What made you especially happy was that you could be down there with your husband. But as history expert you figured it was logical that you would be part of the small landing party that went down first.

As you walked along the streets, you were happily rambling about certain stuff you found, marveling at the similarities to Earth of the time. And yet, there were some differences, which were even more interesting. Spock patiently listened and sometimes did his own scans or asked questions. Suddenly, there was a young man in front of you.

“Hand over your dough and valuables, now!”

“I am neither carrying rough bakery products nor valuables with me at the moment. Even if I did I fail to understand as to why I would want to give them to you”

“Oh yeah? Maybe this helps” he pulled out a gun. Had Spock been human, there surely would have been a frown on his forehead

“Are you attempting to engage in a barter transaction?”

“If you wanna call it that” the guy adjusted his hair “Your money or your lives”

“I doubt this qualifies as a legal swap”

“Spock” you hissed, nudging his side because he was unknowingly making the situation worse

“Finally sunk in, huh? Now give it to me”

“As I have stated previously, I carry neither of the objects you desire and if I had them, I would be disinclined to leave them to you”

“Thinking you’re funny?”

“I am merely being serious and honest”

“Well, maybe the whore listens” he pointed his gun at you and you took a small step back “That gun you wear and your… whatever its” the pointed at the tricorder that you wore around your hip. Exchanging a glance with Spock you just wanted to hand them over because you didn’t fancy being shot.

“I would appreciate if you did not refer to my spouse in such a pejorative manner, especially seeing that her profession is entirely different from the one you have mentioned”

“You know what, cocksucker? I’ve had enough of you” with that he pointed his gun at your husband, making you cling to his arm.

“Please” you said, directed at both of them. To Spock that he should just shut up and to the man to stop “He’s just trying to be funny. He doesn’t mean it. Here” you took off the tricorder but Spock caught your wrist

“Handing over our equipment would violate the prime directive”

“And let him violate us instead? This is a robbery”

“See now, I think your Missy’s seeing sense”

“Robberies have always been considered a crime, no matter the culture” he told your attacker, who didn’t seem to like it at all

“Spock” you gently touched his arm and lowered your voice so only he could hear you “Let’s just give it to him and then you take him out. No harm done. ‘Cause even if such pistols are old they still were deadly” your husband didn’t react and at first you thought he had not heard you but then he gave a nod and took off his own tricorder. When the robber leant forward to take it Spock’s hand shot forward and he nerve pinched the guy, making him fall to the floor with a groan. You let out a relieved breath.

“Perhaps this individual would be better off searching for work instead of threatening people on the street into giving him their private possessions. I suppose it would a much safer occupation that would even earn him more” you chuckled

“Well yeah, work always was better and safer than robberies. Can’t be said for us though” you nudged him in the side with your elbow. “Our job almost got us robbed on the street right now”

[wewereborntomakehistory]

How Do I Do This?

Fandom: Chicago PD/One Chicago

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Female!Reader; Kelly Severide x Platonic!Reader; Stella Kidd x Platonic!Reader

Warning/s: Mentions of Divorce, Anxiety and Alcohol Consumption

Request: No

Word Count: 979

A/N: This is based off of the song, How do I do This? by Kelsea Ballerini. You don’t need to listen to the song to get this by any means but I recommend you do! It’s a song that’s been on my mind for a while and I just love Kelsea’s music as a whole! It got a little away from me so apologies for that! I’m also still working on requests and some more chapters of my Jay Halstead fic so please be patient with me.

Enjoy!

***

Are you free Saturday? I know a spot

Those two texts come in rapid succession as you finish cleaning the store up. You’d usually try to avoid checking your phone so often in front of your manager, but by this time you were usually the only one left.

What did you have in mind?

You erase the message in-between organizing the new book shipment.

Saturday? That’s a little too close for me.

You erase that message while balancing the books for that day.

By the time you lock up the store and head home, you had thought up a couple million ways to respond before erasing them. Putting your key in the lock and you finally respond with a simple Yes.

Your next thought was right before you slid into bed for the night. Where the hell is your dress?

Specifically, your little black one that showed off all of your curves. The one that was probably lonely from being unused for so many years.

Having split from your husband over a year ago and trying to start fresh back in Chicago, you were worrying yourself into a spiral. You hadn’t been on a date since you were 22 and you were feeling out of place, getting back into the dating scene at 29.

You and your ex had grown apart from the moment your marriage started. You had done everything you could to keep everything together. You—being the one who made more money—had bought a big house. One that had room for you two to grow a family and have a backyard for a dog. It felt right at the time, maybe it would be enough so the walls didn’t seem like they were closing in.

You and your ex had been fine. But that’s all you were…fine. You finally convinced him to do therapy with you and, unfortunately, the final straw for you was when you realized that he loved you more at 23, then at 27.

You had filed for divorce not long after that. He claimed he hadn’t seen it coming, and fought you for the house. You gave into it, wanting him to just sign the papers and be done with it. In the end, when you signed your lease back in your home city of Chicago you finally checked the box “divorced.”

It had been quite the change, getting used to being back in the city. You contacted one of your oldest friends, Kelly Severide, to hang out and catch up.

It was at one of those meet ups that you met Kelly’s girlfriend, Stella Kidd, and the two of you hit it off instantly.

Now a year later, Stella and Kelly were getting ready to get married, and you voiced your thoughts to them about dating again. Stella said that she had a friend who was your type.

You had no idea what that meant, but after a few failed attempts at signing up for one of those awful dating apps, you gave Stella permission for her to give her friend your number.

The day after the first two texts were sent, he texted you again saying: Great! I’ll pick you up at 7.

You remembered at 22 being a little more cautious about a man picking you up for a date, but you trusted Kelly and Stella so you tried trusting this guy too.

It was hard, everything you’ve ever known about dating, relationships, and love had been ruined with the breakdown of your marriage. Now you wished it wasn’t affecting your thoughts this long after.

So is it any wonder that it’s 6:52 on Saturday and you’re trying to reassure yourself by saying you got this during your last looks in the mirror.

“You’ll be fine,” Kelly was saying over the speakerphone as you contemplated taking a shot to calm your nerves, “Do you think we don’t have your best interest at heart?”

“Kelly,” you say plainly, “It’s been years since I’ve been on a date. I’m gonna look so stupid stumbling over myself and what if he brings up my marriage? You told him about that right? How do I fucking do this? Is it wrong if I take a shot of something?”

“Stella,” you hear Kelly call from his end, obviously feeling like he needed backup, “she’s freaking out.”

“Yes I am.” You almost growl in confirmation, “I blame you both for this. What was I thinking?”

“Relax, girl,” Stella’s voice says over the line in a reassuring tone, “I got you. Look, I’ve known Jay for a while okay, and I’m sure you’ll charm the socks off of him.”

“Oh god,” you say, slapping a hand to your forehead almost dramatically, “I know he’s too good to be true. What have you done, Stella.”

“Breathe, Y/N,” Kelly says, his voice clear and unyielding.

There was a knock on the door. You jump slightly, looking up at the clock on the stove. 7:00 on the dot.

You curse, telling Kelly and Stella that he was there. They told you to have fun and they’ll call you later for details before immediately hanging up on you.

Cursing your friends once more, you open the door, and your breath lapses. You were going to kill Stella for understating his looks by saying he was “good-looking”.

He was much more than good-looking. He was gorgeous. His dark hair was cut evenly. His eyes were a mix of blue and green and freckles littered across his features. He was dressed for a date, his outfit lining the structures of his body. You feel slightly better about choosing your black dress for this, you may even want to wake up tomorrow with it on a floor that isn’t yours.

I’m ready, you tell yourself in your head.

And for the first time since this whole thing started, you believe it.

[adorethedistance]

First Meet - Jamie Drysdale x Reader

Hockey Masterlist

Warnings: swearing? very PG meet cute

Words: 1020

Summary: First meet - having a meet-cute with Jamie Drysdale in a smoothie shop.

A/n: In an attempt to make up for me being gone for two months, I give you the first installment of the series of firsts. Some other firsts coming soon: first date, first I love you, and first time.

“A seagull is not a predator!” My best friend Chelsea argues as we enter the Jamba Juice of the spectrum center. The line is longer than we’re used to since this is the first time we’ve been here on a Sunday, but the wait doesn’t deter us and we stand patiently in line while we argue.

“What do you mean?! They literally eat fish.”

“Well, yeah. But they’re diving for bites from the ocean, they’re not hunting schools of fish!” She fights back growing increasingly more agitated and amused. The conversation only gets louder as we finally step into the smoothie shop. The long line of other less passionate conversations in tandem with the volume of the blenders has us shouting over the rest of the shop.

“What difference does it make!” I screech out of frustration, unsure of why Chelsea and I are having such a huge disconnect over the issue. We’re furious with each other but we’re also failing not to laugh at the ridiculous nature of the conversation.

“It makes a huge difference actually!” Chelsea huffs a sigh through her undefeated smile.

“Look, all I’m saying is that any animal can be a predator, it just has to try hard enough!” My declaration is immediately followed by a hearty laugh, but not from Chelsea. Turning around, I look over my right shoulder to see a boy around our age, waiting by the end of the counter for his order to be completed. The high contrast of his flowing dark hair and fair complexion is captivating, and a soft ocean blue shimmers in his kind eyes.

“Sorry,” He says earnestly, though he’s still smiling. I exhale a small laugh before replying,

“It’s okay. The argument was ridiculous to begin with,” throwing the pointed comment at Chelsea whose eyebrows raise in shock.

“Yeah. It is. So just give in already!”

“Oh my god. You see what I have to put up with?” I comment on her stubbornness, causing the stranger to laugh once more, and he nods knowingly.

“I feel that. He’s the exact same way,” he says, gesturing to the boy next to him. The comment causes him to turn around, light brown hair flipping with the sharp movement. His friend is cute and all but I find myself still enraptured in the first stranger’s eyes.

“Dibs.” I hear Chelsea softly whisper behind me in reference to the dark haired boy’s friend.

“I’m Y/n, by the way,” I say amicably to the first boy. He smiles softly and extends me his hand to shake.

“Jamie.” Jamie. “And this is Trevor.” Trevor reaches out to shake my hand also but I’m ushered away as Chelsea steps in. I hold in a laugh as best I can, shaking my head in an amused disbelief. Good for her.

“Chelsea. Nice to meet you guys.”

“Are you guys from Cali?” Trevor asks her to strike up conversation. 

“I am, but she isn’t. I take it you guys aren’t from here?”

“What gave me away?” Trevor squints with a laugh. Chelsea is visibly charmed and laughs along with him.

“No one from California calls it Cali,” I answer. Jamie laughs sheepishly, a soft blush creeping across his cheeks. He’s so cute.

“I’m from Toronto,” he replies simply and my ears perk up.

“Toronto’s nice. Are you hockey fans?” I ask, using some of the very little information I know about Canada. The two boys laugh and share a knowing glance.

“You could say that.” Trevor answers smugly. The comment strikes me as odd and I cross my arms defensively to jeer,

“Why are you laughing?”

“We play hockey professionally.” My lips part in a mild shock.

“And you make money doing that?” I ask, incredulously.

“You could say that.” Trevor shrugs and then asks Chelsea about the necklace she’s wearing, though it’s clear he’s only staring at her cleavage. Idiot. I return my attention to Jamie and smile.

“What do you like to do in your free time? Other than hitting on girls in smoothie shops.” Jamie laughs sheepishly once more. The raucous whirring of the juicers makes the shop a loud environment for conversation; he subconsciously steps closer to me to hear better. 

“Well, I was learning guitar for a little bit.”

“How’d that go?”

“Pretty terrible, not gonna lie.” Jamie and I laugh over the confession. 

“Did you learn any songs or just chords?”

“I tried to learn a song but it wasn’t going so well.”

“That’s a shame. What song?”

“In case you didn’t know by Brett Young.”

“In case you didn’t know,” I sing in the worst pseudo-country accent I could manage, “That one?”

Jamie laughs hard, nodding yes as his nose scrunches and his eyes fall closed. I laugh at his reaction, although I’m trying to hold it together. “Why are you laughing?” I feign ignorance and he laughs harder.

“Oh my god, that caught me so off guard.”

“What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”

“That’s one way to put it. You’re cute.”

“What are you gonna do about it?” I fake challenge, crossing my arms over my chest as if I’m contemplating fighting him. Jamie merely pulls out his phone and hands it to me to text myself. It’s at this point that I have a moment to tune back in to Chelsea and trevor.

“Oh you’re doing numbers?” She comments from her vantage point and I laugh out of slight embarrassment.

“Maybe.” I say, playing coy to Chelsea, but I can tell Jamie’s taking me literally. “Here.”

Jamie takes the phone back to look at the sent message. In handing over the phone, the tips of his fingers brushed mine and the gesture ignites butterflies in my stomach. 

“Y/n,” He recites gently, smiling at the screen that displays the new text conversation. I bite back a smile at the sound of my name on his tongue, and nod softly. 

“Yo, Jimmy, we gotta go.” Trevor calls over the noise of the smoothie shop. He nods in acknowledgement before looking back at me with a small smile.

“I’ll text you?”

“Don’t forget it.”

***

A/n: this is just a little blurb but there's more to come. I have exams right now but once they're done I'll be back!

[simplydannie]

This may seem crazy but the outro of billie eilish's song "blue" makes me think of your au of floyd and the twins pls listen to it and see what you think (love your posts btw) !!!

Haii!!

First of all, thank you so much! It means a lot to me!

Secondly, I went ahead and listened to the song (since i had never heard it lol) and the feels it gave me. Of course Billie never fails to impress with her music ❤️ Listening to those lyrics really got me thinking that his is Floyd talking to twins, a really hopeless Floyd where he thinks they can’t be saved at all. This little story popped in my head while listening to that beautiful song:

Previous “The Betrayal”

One month….

It had been one month since Veneer trapped him inside this diamond that now served as his prison. One month of torture they were putting him through…But through all this, Floyd couldn’t help but feel it was all his fault.

He looked through the glass diamond at the twins…his twins. He looked at the pop crazed little demons they’ve become. Their glammed up hair, makeup, clothing. This isn’t them, he thought to himself. These weren’t his twins that he met and cared for. How in the world did he allow for this to happen? Why did he accuse them and think they were all part of this evil woman’s plan? Why did he go off on them like that?

Time and time again he tried to talk to them, try to speak reason. Velvet didn’t want to hear, she no longer cared for what he had to say. She didn’t even call him by his name anymore. All he was to her was the “Troll”. Veneer never spoke his name again either… “little guy”…That’s all he was. Why couldn’t they speak his name? Why couldn’t they call him what they once did? Floyd….Dad…It hurt him, he tried not to feel anything, but he couldn’t help it, it hurt because its as if those years with him never existed.

He tried to get pieces of conversations whenever Mistress was around…but it’s as if she knew he was listening. She dare not speak around him. It was one day, that the twins were rehearsing for a performance that broke him, yet, he was helpless, all he could do was watch.

“SLOPPY! THAT WAS SLOPPY!” Mistress yelled.

“Of course it was! We don’t have the Troll.” Velvet fought back.

“The Troll is only for performance. At least until you guys can get your hands on more. Veneer, what the hell? You’re lagging! You need to be EXACTLY like your sister. Other wise this whole perfect, twin illusion thing will fail!” She yelled.

“Uh, what do you think I’m trying to do?” He responded, “Besides I’m not my sister! We’re twins but we’re totally different. I have my own charisma, can’t I try doing that instead.”

“No! The main reason I contracted you two is not only because of your subspecies abilities, but you two are the only known Rageon twins. Do you know how much money that is making me?! You’re person, you’re look, it all depends on it. No one cares who the hell you really are! Your sister is the more charismatic one, so you follow her lead!”

“Yeah bro.” Velvet teased sticking out her tongue.

“From the top!”

Floyd watched as the Mistress over worked the twins, how she molded them. He did nothing to help back then, he really couldn’t do anything about it now. He saw how she shook her head and stomped her foot in anger…

“Dammit! No, no, no! Dammit Veneer!” She began to march up the stage.

“I did what you wanted me too. Not my fault I’m now as flexible as- AHHH!” Mistress smacked him clear across the face. Veneer retreated holding his cheek. Velvet stood there staring in bewilderment. All Floyd could do was stand up and bang against the diamond attempting to grab their attention, but he had no luck. Tears began to well up in Veneers eyes.

“Don’t you dare cry! Crying is for the weak! Study your sister’s movements to perfection. Remember you’re her exact copy. We’re done for the day.” She stormed off.

The twins just stood there staring after her, a distant look in their eyes, staring off into space as if zombified, “Guys?” Floyd called out. He knew he caught their attention, he saw the snap back in their eyes. Velvet side eyed him, a look of disgust on her face.

“Let’s go. Come on, let’s just get out of here. Let’s go while we can.” He said practically begging them.

Velvet sneered, “Who the hell do you think you are Troll?”

“Velvet…you have to be kidding me. You haven’t called me by my name in a while. It’s like you forgot who I was.”

“You’re our little tool to stardom. That’s it. Let’s go Ven.” She marched off. Veneer only spared a small glance at Floyd and went off after his sister, still holding his cheek where Mistress slapped him…

…They are really gone, aren’t they? There was no look of compassion or remembrance in any of their eyes. What they had was now just a dream, a ghost, and Floyd couldn’t help but feel that it was his fault. He should’ve spoken to them when he still could, when their hearts weren’t changed, when they weren’t under this, this “spell” that witch had them in. He didn’t know how could bring them back, or even if that was possible. Floyd fell to his knees inside the diamond bottle. Leaning his forehead against the diamond wall, tears began to fall as song began to rise in him…

“Born blameless…grew up famous too…I don't blame you…But I can't change you…Don't hate you…But we can't save you.” Tears fell form his eyes to the floor of the diamond, “I’m sorry guys…I failed you.”

[babyhatesreality]

The Sinner and the Saint Ch 3

Pairing: (eventual) Mob!Boss Bucky x f!reader

Warnings: NSFW, f!reader, language, fake names (for now), Truth or Dare, LOTS of innuendos and dirty thoughts, everybody has secrets, reader says unkind things about herself, reader is an exotic dancer, reader is extremely flexible dancer :D, reader uses several dance styles, Bucky (aka Nick) is a little shit, touch of angst, touch of fluff, slow burn relationship. There will be many, many more warnings for future chapters including mafia and all the stuff that comes with that, kinks, and smut. 

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. MINORS DNI. THIS IS AN 18+ STORY ONLY AND IS NSFW. I DO NOT CONSENT FOR ANY OF MY WORKS TO BE COPIED, REPRINTED, OR TRANSLATED ONTO ANY PLATFORM EXCEPT MY OWN.

Previous- Chapter 2

Chapter 3

“Who goes first?” you asked boldly, smiling at him.

“Well,” Nick said, running his gloved finger along his chin as he thought. “I SHOULD say ladies first. It’s be the proper thing to do. Gentlemanly and all that.” He tossed the rest of the bourbon into his mouth, then set the glass down definitively. There was a dangerous sparkle in his eye. “Well, I’m always a gentleman, but I’m definitely not proper,” he said with an evil grin. “So. Truth or dare?”

Your own lips twisting as you tried not to show how much that glint in his eye was turning you on, you merely tilted your head like you were thinking. “Um...truth,” you said, pretending like it had been a thoughtful decision. 

“Do you like working here?”

“Honestly, I love it. Most of the girls are fantastic, and Ms. Romanoff’s one of the best bosses I’ve ever had.” You paused to take another sip of champagne. “Then of course, I get to meet charming men like yourself as well,” you said overtly flirtatiously, in an attempt to...well, you weren’t sure. This guy paid for your company in the freaking VIP Champagne Room, which WAS NOT cheap- shouldn’t you be giving him compliments and making him feel like an alpha male or something like that? Your inexperience was making you both mad and terrified. 

Nick gave a carefully constructed and corporate smile at your words. One that was acknowledging your flattery but also said he didn’t truly accept it. Your guts twisted again. That made you panicked and disappointed that you had failed. Not just at your job, but...him. You’d failed him. And that really bothered you.  Disappointing him was...not an option.

 Before you could put your filter in place, the words came tumbling out again. “Sorry if that was inappropriate,” you said, your face turning Hooker Lipstick red. “I...I mean, you’re really nice and I just...I don’t think you’re getting your money’s worth with me just running my mouth and being so dumb and I don’t want you to waste your time-”

You snapped your mouth shut- FINALLY- as Nick’s jaw dropped, his shocked blue eyes piercing you down to your soul. Finally, he collected himself. “No, I...no that’s not what I was thinking at all,” he stammered. “You thought that...” he choked to a halt, looking flabbergasted. A teeny tiny part of you rejoiced that you weren’t the only one on the back foot now, but THAT made you feel more guilty. Shit, if you could afford a Therapist they’d have a field day with this emotional rollercoaster you were on. “I...I don’t want you to think that you’re not worth the money. But...not in a cheap way, like not that you’re cheap, but not like...oh fuck not like I’m buying you or....I mean...shit. Goddammit,” he finally grumbled, standing up and storming over to the bar and pouring himself another bourbon quickly. He took a huge slug of it before pausing, taking a deep breath, and turning back to you. 

“Sorry. I’m not used to having to explain myself,” he said gruffly, but seemingly more in control now. He exhaled and relaxed a bit, then smiled. “What I meant to say is that I am enjoying my time with you. I’m especially enjoying your forthright honesty. Not many people give me that. You don’t have to worry about me not having a great time. This is one of the best conversations I’ve had in a very, very long time, and I want it to continue.”

It was your turn to exhale, your eyes wide as they could go. How the FUCK were you supposed to respond to such a masterful answer? All you could think to blurt out was, “Can I have a bourbon too? Or whatever it is that just made you so eloquent while you were freaking out? Cause I clearly fucking need it.”

Nick suddenly tilted his head back, laughing loudly at that, which made you laugh too. After you both wiped your eyes and settled down a bit, he pointed to the glass in your hand. “You stick with champagne, missy, you’re still working.”

You sighed playfully. “Yes, sir,” you responded deliberately. He froze again for a heartbeat before making his way back to the couch. 

Damn, that was still very interesting.

After he sat down, he turned you to again. “And don’t call yourself dumb again. I don’t like it. Got it?” he said, with that air of authority mixed with...something... you couldn’t name it. 

Shocked that he cared about that, you took a beat before responding. “Okay,” you said, feeling your entire body soften for a moment, before tensing right back up again. 

His secretive smile returned. “Your turn,” he said in his arrogant tone.

“Truth or Dare?” you asked after trying to clear your throat delicately.

“Truth.”

Wanna fu- “What do you do for a living?”

Nick tilted his head, staring right into your eyes, for three solid seconds. Just as you were about to get nervous that you’d once again put your foot in your mouth, he smiled- softly. It was a good look on him. 

“I’m the CEO of a business that handles a lot of high-end imports and exports,” he said, the words falling so seamlessly off his tongue that you knew he’d said them a million times before. “We dabble in all sorts of fields,” he continued in the same breath, his eyes never leaving yours. 

“Wow,” you said breathlessly, realizing that money clearly was not an issue for this man, but having enough tact and filter thank god to not bring it up. “That sounds really cool. So you manage how and where product comes from, pricing, all that kind of stuff?”

Nick smiled mysteriously again. “Tsk, tsk,” he said, before pointing a finger at you. “That’s a second question.” You blushed again, making his grin widen. “Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

“How long have you lived in New York City?”

“Nearly three months. Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

“So you manage how and where product comes from, pricing, all that kind of stuff?” you asked sweetly. That caused Nick to snort a laugh into his drink. 

“Yes, that’s the basics of how it all works,” he said, chuckling. Your gaze fell on his leather gloves as he brushed away the moisture in his eyes, and you instantly knew your next question. But it was his turn. “Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Depends on the day and how I’m feeling.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“But it’s the truth.”

“Clever girl.”

“Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

“Why are you wearing gloves?”

“Poor circulation. Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

"Why did you move to New York?”

“You already asked me that.”

“But you didn’t answer. You freaked out thinking you sounded like a hillbilly, remember?”

Turning red again, you tossed your hair back in an effort to recapture your strong persona out of your embarrassment. “I came here to be a professional dancer.”

Nick nodded in understanding. It wasn’t the first time he’d met a wanna-be performer. New York City was full of them. “So what form of dance is your speciality?” he asked, curious. 

You internally steeled yourself, and put on your own seductive grin. “That’s a second question, sir,” you said, pursing your lips in mock disapproval. Nick tried to hide his smile by pushing his tongue against the inside of his bottom lip, but it didn’t work. He shook his head, grinning. 

“Mea Culpa,” he said pompously, before fixing his deep blue eyes on you again and gesturing for you to continue. Thrilled that you had won that tiny little battle and filled with an inappropriate amount of ego over it, you perked up a bit and asked. 

“Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

“What’s YOUR favorite color?”

“Black. Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

“What form of dance is your speciality?” he asked, cocking his eyebrows at turning the tables back on you. You giggled- you had a feeling it was coming. Brushing a stray strand of hair out of your eyes, you tilted your head as you thought about it. 

“I don’t really have a speciality. I studied as many styles as I could. Basically any time a new class was offered even remotely near me, I took it. Or studied it online. And I couldn’t get enough, you know?” you said, your eyes beginning to gleam. “Like every new class I took just added gas to the tank, and I needed to know more. There’s always going to be a new style to learn, a new technique to try. And I want...I NEED to know it. I...I just want to dance,” you said quietly, your mind flicking through every recital, every show, every class where you’d felt that secret, magical spark, that insatiable drive. “There’s a lot that’s inside me,” you mused, as if you’d forgotten Nick was even there, so lost in your worship of the art form. “And the only way I know how...well, the best way I know how to get it out...is to dance and let it flow through my body...I have to get it out, otherwise, the terrible beauty of the world inside me would crush me.”

The precious confession hung in the still air and you were loathe to shatter the poignant silence. You felt like you should have felt shame for sharing so much, but you just...didn’t. You wondered why. Nick gently reached over and laid his gloved hand on top of yours. 

“Thank you,” he said so softly you almost missed it. “I...thank you.” He managed to look both stunned and in awe, all at the same time. 

As if the oxygen entered the room again, you inhaled deeply and turned to him. You wanted to apologize for oversharing, but the look in his eyes made you realize that he didn’t want an apology- he honestly treasured your deep response. Swallowing hard, you took a sip of champagne, nearly finishing your second glass. “So...truth?” you asked, recovering your sweet smile. 

His smile widened, and he nodded. “Truth,” he acknowledged, toying with his glass.

“What’s your real name?”

His eyes slid to yours. You could see a million calculations going through his mind, and you saw the moment he decided. “Dare,” he said instead, cocking his eyebrow at you in that damn challenging way again. 

Your mouth opening in a delighted surprise, you scrambled to think of something ‘cool’ to dare him with. Your eyes landed on the mini bar in the room. “I dare you to take a shot of tequila...” you began. His smirk and eye roll before you even finished your sentence peaked your competitiveness. “...without the salt and the lime.” His eyes suddenly stretched wide, surprised, before narrowing playfully at you. 

“Well, let it be known that you fight dirty,” he grumbled with a grin, before heading over to the bar, looking at the contents carefully, plucking out a bottle from behind the counter, pouring himself a shot and downing it in one. You saw the faintest hint of a grimace cross his face before he shut it down with him impassive look, that turned arrogantly smug as he looked at your shocked expression. Tequila was NASTY- how the hell had he done that?!

“So. Truth?” he asked, completely smoothly. All you could do was blink at him. He sauntered back over to you, that power just dripping off him so viscerally that you could feel it in your bones. “What’s YOUR real name?”

And suddenly you knew. This was his game, and had been his game all along. He had trapped you into taking a Dare, knowing there was no way you were going to reveal your name unless he revealed his. Taking your last sip of bravery juice, you stood right up, willing your limbs to stop trembling in your nervousness. 

“Dare,” you said simply, forcing your eyes to meet his and not waver. He jutted his chin forward in his moment of triumph. 

“Dance for me,” he said simply. 

Something inside of you cracked at those words. You had spilled inner secrets and thoughts to this stranger, things you had never vocalized before, and in return, all he wanted was for you to take your clothes off for him. The sting of disappointment and...almost...betrayal? hit your heart. But that was ridiculous. He had never asked you to share- you had done it of your own free will. This was all your own fault. You’d forgotten your place. You were just another stripper in a big city to him. That fucking hurt. And it must have showed on your face. 

Nick held up his hand. “Stop thinking whatever it is you’re thinking,” he commanded after he watched the emotion flicker over your face. “Not like that. Dance for me how YOU want to. Your way,” he said softly. “I want to see that world that you’re so passionate about.” 

You absolutely froze, completely obliterated by the about-face that was happening in your brain. He WANTED, actually WANTED to see you dance your way? “Are you sure?” you asked breathlessly. “You don’t want me to...?” You couldn’t finish, hating yourself the moment the words crossed your lips. He had given you a golden opportunity and you were still so unsure of yourself, still so damn insecure, that you were offering to take your clothes off. 

He shook his head, once. “No. I want you to dance your way. Pick whatever music moves you, and just...dance. I want to see.” He swallowed hard. “Please.” He gently forced the word out, as if he was unused to saying it like this.

“Okay,” you whispered back. A look of relief flickered through his eyes before he swallowed hard and sat back down on the couch. 

“Take your time,” he said smoothly. “Whenever you’re ready.” Was that a touch of...nervousness you heard in his voice? He gestured to the wall behind the bar. You turned to look, and found a very expensive looking sound system installed in the wall. Taking a deep breath yourself, you walked over to it with a confidence you didn’t feel. Your mind raced- what song? And more to the point- what was really going on here?

Was he just being nice? Was he really expecting you to strip despite what he said? For fucks’ sake you were working in a strip club that he apparently came to all the time. He really didn’t mean what he said. Or...was it possible? Was he serious? 

Then it hit you. You might not get this chance ever again. 

Carpe Diem.

You quickly turned the system on, and found it surprisingly user friendly. You typed in one of the songs from one of your favorite musicals- a musical that made you go nearly feral from the dancing the first time you saw it. You unbuckled the straps of the Fuck Me heels, then playfully tossed them out onto the floor. You watched Nick carefully when you did that. His eyes never left you. He didn’t care about the clothes you were discarding, even if they were only shoes. He was watching you. Now or never. Truth AND Dare.

You hit play and stepped to the center of the room.

*Nature Boy from Moulin Rouge the Musical*

The evocative notes from the lone guitar filled the room. You closed your eyes and surrendered to the music, letting the notes and the feeling flow through you, gently stepping back and forth and side to side as the mental image of the guitarist’s strong hands gently plucking the strings called to you. 

There was a boy, a very strange enchanted boy, 

they say he wandered very far, very far, over land and sea

You gave the tiniest plié before going up onto demi-relevé as the hypnotic words came. You’d start with the most classical dance- ballet. You moved as if you were mystical, imagining that you had been visited by the enchanted boy and had been touched by his spirit and adventures. You let your arms flirt with the magic in the air as your legs moved you across the room.

A little shy, and sad of eye, but very wise was he

You used moves similar to a Japanese Nihon Buyo style that you’d observed on the word ‘shy’, ‘sad’, and ‘wise’. The rich Japanese culture of dance had a way with expressing strong emotions that was incomparable to anyone else. 

And then one day, one magic day he passed my way

As you continued to move lithely, caught in the emotions of the ethereal melody, you let your eyes drift to Nick on the words ‘he passed my way’. He was watching you with wide eyes, like a child seeing Wonderland for the first time.

And while we spoke of many things, fools and kings, 

this he said to me

You changed it up, going into a more modern Twyla Tharp style, subtly indicating that upon meeting him, everything else changed too. You moved as the music told you to, rejoicing in the talking, the fools, the kings, and every other word sung. 

The greatest thing you’ll ever learn 

You used wide sweeping movements on these words, trying to give gravity to the deep profound thing you were about to learn. 

Is just to love, and be loved in return.

You stopped moving after the words ‘just to love’, simply looking to the heavens in expectation, letting the next words speak for themselves. They were more powerful than any move you could have made just then. On the last moment of the word ‘return’, you looked down and ever-so-slowly brought you right leg up in passé, your arms in fifth ballet position. Except you didn’t stop- you slowly extended your leg up, until your right foot was pointed at the ceiling, and you casually turned your face to the light to look at it. And then you didn’t move; you held perfectly still. It was the move that was making you famous at the club; it was singularly yours. It had taken you years to perfect it. 

Finally getting to use it YOUR way brought tears to your eyes. 

The greatest thing (the greatest thing) you’ll ever learn (you’ll ever learn)

Is just to love and be loved in return

You held your position until ‘thing’, then let the energy flow through your body once again. Holding a position like that for that long took immense and precise concentration, so you let your muscles loose and let them take you where the music whispered to go as a thank you. On the last word you gracefully stopped, picked up your heels, and gently slung them over your shoulder, turning and slowly walking away as the violin cried out its lonely descant. On the last guitar arpeggio, you stopped and turned your head, locking eyes with your audience of one. The music ended, and you quietly turned back around, anxious and exhilarated. You both stared at each other as if you found the secrets of the stars in the other’s eyes. 

Golden silence. 

Suddenly Nick stood and walked straight over to you. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly pulled the glove off his right hand. His eyes bored into you almost in desperation. When you didn’t break eye contact at all, he gasped quietly, then reached towards your face. 

“Please,” was all he said. You nodded, unable to break the stare. He reverently drew one finger along your cheek, along your jaw until his fingers hovered right over your lips. You had never wanted to be kissed so badly in your life. You silently begged him with every fiber of your being. And he leaned in for a fraction of a second. 

Suddenly, he stepped back and let his hand drop to yours. He picked it up and pressed the back of your fingers to his lips, holding it there a long time as he squeezed his eyes shut. Finally, he stood back up, looking you right in the eyes. “Thank you, Miss Angel,” he said, almost in a worshipful tone. Then without another word, he turned and walked out of the room. 

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

He was breathing hard as he shut the door behind him. He looked to his right and nodded at Fury, who gave him a respectful single nod back. He looked to his left and met the blue eyes of the muscular, well dressed blonde man guarding the other side of the door. He turned to his right with purpose and began moving at his typical fast pace. He heard Steve’s footsteps follow him, like always.

Knowing his way around the club all too well, he walked straight into Natasha’s office. As he barged through the door, Natasha looked up, startled, her hand flying under her desk. He knew she was gripping her concealed gun in her shock, but she relaxed the moment she realized it was him. He didn’t give a rat’s ass about startling her- he wanted something and wanted it now.

“Book her with me for the week,” he said firmly, cutting right to the chase. “Every night. And I want the exact schedule of when she dances for that whole time, too.”

Natasha’s jaw hit the top of her desk. “What? Are you serious?” she asked bluntly. His eyes suddenly blazed metal-melting blue in their fury at the idea of having to wait even longer for what he wanted.

“Did I stutter?” he snarled at her. “Do it. Now. You have two minutes.” Eyes stretched open in shock, Natasha ripped her gaze from his to her computer and began typing as fast as her fingers could fly. 

He turned and looked at Steve, who was wearing his typical stoic look. “She has no idea,” he breathed out, still half caught in his moment of wonder. “She doesn’t know who I am. She doesn’t have a clue.”

Steve’s usually impassive face betrayed a rare moment of incredulity. “You’re kidding,” the muscular man in the impeccable black suit said, looking back at his boss- and best friend- in shock, unable to comprehend the idea. His boss shook his head, that daring grin spreading across his face again. He was about to expound on the thought, but Natasha walked up to him, thrusting a piece of paper into his ungloved hand. 

“Here you go, Mr. Barnes,” she said with corporate formality. “She’s all yours.”

Chapter 4

[minminho0]

✤------------------------------------------✤

◈The one◈

✤------------------------------------------✤

<Kazuha x Reader>

<Venti x Reader>

-Angst - Fluff

⏤͟͟͞͞ Part 1 - Anything Please

Summary: After he left you still processing that he already had a girlfriend, you decided to move on but did you really move on?

Gender: Female

Warnings: --

A/n: feel free to correct my grammar!

i suddenly had motivation after using it up all bcz of a single comment💀

I hope you enjoy~!

--

After the day you found out about his girl friend, you distance yourself from him but like did he even notice, its no use since he already distanced himself.

The new girlfriend is far more better than you.

Since Kazuha is quite adventurous himself, of course he wants a lover the same as him, so of course he'll never pick you, as his girl friend at least.

You waited for him for so long just for him to found another, its time for you to go.

You have so many failed attempts of moving on cuz each time you just unconsciously wait at the door and think about him.

You felt bad because he already have a girlfriend and your here thinking about him romantically.

You tried dating a couple of guys since your pretty popular, its quite easy but each time you keep thinking about him which clearly the dating thing isnt working.

You decided to just move away because your home just reminds you of him.

You went to Monsdant since its peacful and calm there, you never told Kazuha because why would he care? He forgot about you so its fair and besides your mom is living there so it wouldn't be that hard.

-

The next few days, you were looking for someone to sell your house and you finally found one.

You gave your keys to the seller after packing all your things.

A few weeks later you got the money from selling the house and gave half of it to your mother.

-

Kazuha's pov:

"How can she do this to me? Did i do something wrong?" I said as tears roll down my cheek.

How could she? After all ive done for her..i even left y/n because she feels uncomfortable!

How could she cheat on me...

I thought, memories w her flashing before my eyes and then suddenly she popped up.

Ha?

Y/n?

What?

Oh ya..i remember...she was the one who comforted me all that time.

She was...

She was the one.

-

Calming myself down, i immediately went to her house, hoping that we didn't drift apart that far.

I rang the doorbell and i was greeted with silence.

I rang it again and this time, someone finalky opened the door but wasn't the one i were hoping for sadly.

"Oh um hello, do you need anything?"

"Oh um- who are you?"

"Uh the owner of this house, why?"

"No youre not..."

"Pardon?"

"Sorry, where's Y/n?"

"Y/n? Idk who that is but i can reassure you, no one here is named y/n."

"Oh ok.."i mumbled, wondering what happened while he was gone.

I heard the door close which startled me.

I quickly run to places where she could possibly went but to no avail.

I searched everywhere but she was nowhere to be seen.

-

Today im going to Monsdant still thinking about where she could be.

Once i stepped foot at the land of Monsdant, i immediately went to a small village to ask people if he could rest at their place for a few hours.

While he was roaming around, he suddenly saw..

"Y/n?"i murmured, frozen at my spot.

"Ha?"

Your pov:

"Ha?" I turned around, hearing someone call my name.

'Kazuha!? What is he doing here?'you immediately truned on your heels but before you could walk off someone held your shoulder.

"Y/n?"

"Mhm?" You turned your head and cane face to face with him.

"Ive been looking for you! why didn't you tell me you went here?"

"Oh sorry i forgot" you reapeted the words he told you a long time ago.

"Im so sor-" before i can tell my apology and my love for her, i was suddenly cut off.

Anger slowly building up inside you but soon came down when you heard a familiar voice.

"Y/n~!"

"You two looked at the person, his face confuse while yours happy.

"Oh? Who might you be~?"

"Who are you?"

"I asked you first but oh well, my name is Venti! And can you please let go of my precious s/o"

"S/o!?"

"Mhm~? Is there a problem?"

"Oh-..uh no.." He slowly let go of you, cursing at himslef for doing that to you, now he was to late.

"It was nice meeting you and your boyfriend..hope you two have a nice life"

He turned his body around and slowly walked off with a heavy heart.

Kazuha's pov:

I finally found a place to rest but how can i rest when all i think about is her?

Honestly i knew about her huge crush towards me but i cant believe i ignored it and now.

*sigh*

Sitting up from the bed and pouring myself a glass of water when suddenly i saw them together..having fun.

"I was really to late ha?"

I went back at the bed and slept praying that this was just a dream.

--

*Masterlist*

Hiii!! Hope you enjoyed it~!

Thx for the sudden boost of motivation @luvnoya

Have a nice day~!

-February 28, 2023

[herobrinezombie]

Alright, I said I would start writing, but then I got taken by some other shit. So uh, here's a short story I wrote for a school assignment a while back that I'm proud of. Prolly is my first actual attempt at writing a coherent story like this. Hope you guys enjoy it

Drifting,

It had been a long night for John. Work had been rough and taxing on him. After pulling an all nighter, he's on the road to resting. The road has been smooth and stiff for the miles driven. The air, old, dry, and stale. John's eyes and mind weigh heavy on him as laboring at two jobs hasn't earned enough to pay rent next month. Wishing he could just live in the woods for the remainder of his days. As his thoughts dwell on his situation, his wary state takes hold.

He jolts awake as he feels his truck drifting too far to the side and into the tree thicket lining the road. Quickly and with a yelp he grabs the wheel and twists the truck back onto course. Adrenaline pumping through him, he stares, thinking for a moment about what just happened. He turns on the radio to keep himself awake, but it doesn't last for long. Sleep slowly enveloping his vision he drifts off into slumber.

John is walking into his boss’s office. “Hey there John, how's it going,” Coran cheerily spouted upon John entering. “Been doing okay,” John replied.

“You know what’s been doing better than okay?” Coran asked. “The amount of lumber we’ve been selling.” John tenses up as he starts to speak, “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that.” Coran raises a tentative eyebrow. “Since the company is doing so well, Could it fit into the budget for a raise?” John anxiously suggested. 

He awakes to metal ripping and tearing around him. Thrown around from the impact, John's mind is muddled. As his thoughts groggily reform from sleep, he opens the truck door, stumbles out of his car and into the woods. Before long, the adrenaline fades and he realizes he's forgotten from which direction he came from. Shadows creep near his feet, noises dance around his ears, the moon's light playing tricks on him.

Then a scent hits him, a light and smokey scent, and he freezes. Anxiety building from within, scrambled pieces of thoughts swell in John’s mind. Realizing more and more, dread builds in him. As a distant wolf howls, John is sent spiraling a panic and bolts. Almost sprinting through the woods John's head is swiveling around at every tree's rustle, every croak of a toad, every distant twig snapping.

His mind still spinning from the crash, the darkness, the noises, the fear, he bolts toward where he thinks the smell is coming from. As he sprints a root from a nearby tree wraps around his foot. In his frenzy John failed to realize this. His ankle trapping his leg, he falls. His body smashing against the ground leaves John defeated. Once more he begins to drift off into slumber.

Coran looked at John for a minute before responding. “I don’t know John, there's a lot to balance with that,” Coran started. “If we gave you a raise we would have to give everyone a raise and we can’t do that. It would take money away from expansion we have planned.”

“But I do a lot more work then th-” John is cut off by Coran. “How about this, we provide a pool table for the breakroom, you get a fun activity to do over breaks and the company can still expand as planned.” Coran looks at John with a clear expression that this debate is over. John tries to speak, “But that’s no-,” Coran glares at John. “Nevermind then,” he says dejectedly and walks out of the office.

He’s awoken by the sound of falling trees. As he comes too eyes gaze over an orange flicker in the distance. Trying to pry himself from the ground, he pushes up from it. Almost standing now, he starts running from it. Sprinting through the forest unimpeded. The light blazes behind him.

As he makes it through the forest, a limb hangs low out and a loud “Twack” rings out, and John falls from the impact. Dazedly, he tries to get up, feeling the heat approaching. His arms give out. Days of long work and nights of short rest have taken their toll on him. Unable to resist the allure of sleep any longer, John's eyes shut and he drifts off into the warm night.

[angeldcgs]

“it’s not about manipulating my emotions, it’s about regulating them… self control. have you heard of it?” there was nothing wrong with being an agreeable guy, river thought. he sometimes exaggerated his feelings, or stifled them altogether, but likability was important in his profession, so playing nice was unfortunately par for the course. “i don’t want a fucking… fangirl.” his voice was considerably more exasperated as he clenched his jaw and sighed, running a hand over his face as if he could wipe away this whole argument. it wasn’t only her discretion he valued, but her in general. she never failed to counter his rapidly inflating ego, never gave him special treatment or put him on a pedestal, and river had come to cherish that change of pace, though he couldn’t just come out and admit how he felt about her personally. he’d decided he needed her, but she didn’t need to know that. her fury was intimidating to behold, and while his first instinct was to crumble and admit defeat, he knew he’d never have another chance to get her back, and so he clutched her skirt tighter, lifting it higher. they both happened to know exactly where each others’ soft spots were, aiming their targeted jabs just right, and river’s nostrils flared along with a sharp exhale as he tried to ignore the urge to lash out at her, instead keeping his cool until he could compose himself. “you’ll be back,” he stated smugly. "i'd be wiling to put money on it." in response to her unsuccessful attempt to snatch her skirt back, his lips curled into a smirk, letting out a brief snort of a chuckle through his nose. “c’mon, ing… you need this. who’s gonna be your personal punching bag if i’m not in the picture? the conflict is part of the appeal for you, it just makes things hotter.”

"you may be able to turn on and off your emotions when it suits you, river, but for me they're usually pretty lasting impressions." which had more to do with her being stubborn than anything else, frankly. once ingrid had made a decision, that was final. his second jab caught her attention... but she'd already fallen for his goading once, and ing was determined not to let him get the better of her again. "i promise you, you'll have no problem finding a nice discreet little fangirl who wants nothing more than to be around you, even if no one else can know about it." personally, there was only so much hiding she was willing to do. not because it was difficult— in fact, keeping her and river's relationship off social media had come naturally considering she didn't use it much herself. the problem came in the form of him hiding her. ingrid cohen had always considered herself a prize, and not being treated as such— no bragging, no ill-timed jokes to his friends about their active sex life, no jealous exes— had begun to wear on her self-esteem. "hysterical! you're gonna see fuckin' hysterical in about thirty seconds if you don't give me my goddamn clothes, river. and don't you lecture me about 'being yourself' when you're the biggest phony i've ever met! all you DO is try to act in a way you think people will like and it's exhausting." particularly because, when he failed he was insufferably pouty about it. "fuck you: you think you're the only schmuck i have on speed dial for when i get desperate? i'll delete your number right fuckin' now and not think twice about it!" she leveled him with a steady gaze as he lifted her skirt, scoffing at his childish behavior before jumping and (unsuccessfully) swatting her hand trying to grab it from him. "like hell i will! if anything, you're just confirming the decision for me."

[fxllen-rxse]

Five comfort characters, five tags

Kojiro/James - My number one because James was probably my very first fictional crush. I was almost always reading Team Rocket fanfiction when I first gained access to the internet. I would watch the anime just for them. Over the years, I learned more and more about his character and background. How he ran away from home because his parents are basically the worst and tried to force him to marry some dominatrix. And, all in all, James actually seems like a decent human being to some extent. He cares for others and his Pokémon. Even if he gets nothing in return, he still seems like he would do just about anything for Jessie and Meowth. His found family next to his grandparents, who were the only other family he had that actually gave a damn about his well being. I'm not going to say that I know exactly how that feels, but I will say that I do have a found family myself. And my biological family isn't exactly in the picture except for some holidays or if someone needs money. But anyway, this is one of the many reasons why I picked up James as a muse. A lot of nostalgia and admiration I have for this guy.

Hanzo Shimada - If I'm being honest, Hanzo was not the first character I mained in Overwatch. It was actually Reaper. While it was fun playing as the dark edgelord, I began to experiment with other heros. Once I made my way to Hanzo, I immediately found that there was something about him that I quickly latched onto. His back story is traumatic. He struggles to find redemption and come to grips with his past. In the process, discovering his brother was alive in the Dragons short, which is by far my favorite. The biggest thing about Hanzo that stood out to me was that I felt I related to him in a lot of ways. Sure, my own back story isn't exactly the same as his, but there are definitely some elements there that I can understand. It's one of reasons that I picked him up as my very first canon muse. In fact, you can still find him here @brxken-arrxw. I haven't been on there much as of late, but there's a good chance that I could be bringing him back :)

Yami Bakura - From the Yu-Gi-Oh! verse. Yes, there was a time where I was all about that series... but only the first generation and the characters. And don't ask me how to play the game because... Yeah, I never learned, but anyway! I was very invested in the characters and ships. Yami Bakura is the evil spirit of the Millennium Ring. The spirit of a tomb raider and thief from ancient Egyptian times. He inhabits the body Ryou Bakura, who was gifted the ring by his father, who is an archeologist (I think). He possess him constantly and takes control to do his bidding. While he is technically supposed to be "evil", I did kind of latch onto him more over the other characters. I can see his past being a very traumatic one, which probably led to him becoming a ruthless thief. I have also read a lot of amazing fanfiction where he struggles with this and dealing with his feelings. Like coming to grips with who and what he is. Even with Ryou. Like, I can see him actually caring for Ryou to some extent, but doesn't want to express those feelings because maybe he's afraid it will show weakness. It is something I have dealt with before. I have attempted to hide things so that I don't appear weak to others, but man did that fail so hard for me. It's probably why I still have issues with it to this day. I am better than I used to be, but I still have moments. But yeah, I really feel like Yami Bakura has more room to deal with and grow. I definitely admire him a lot.

Lucas - A Mother/Earthbound series character. Lucas is from Mother 3. The game that was never actually released in the US. There used to be a way to download the game with translations and stuff. While I did, I only managed to get halfway through. I have read a lot about the back story. Lucas loses his mother and twin bother. I'm a little hazy on the rest of the game's plot, but I do know that Lucas is an individual that carries a lot on his shoulders. Dealing with the loss of family members while trying to carry on. No crying until the end... As the game says, at some point. Unfortunately, I understand a thing or two about the pain of loss. And having to quickly pick up the pieces and carry on. Lucas has a very special place with me for this. I have so much love and admiration for him.

Zorra Lynn Lombardi and The Devil Cat - I really struggled with this one, but Zorra was my first and only written OC. I ultimately ended up dropping her and stealing her name for myself. I once had a blog for her, which has since been deleted and repurposed into this blog (email wise, that is). She was lone girl who lived alone with a cat, whom was probably more of a thing than she was, if I'm being honest. This cat was a calico cat with fake set of red devil horns mounted on it's head. I called her "The Devil Cat". In most cases, she was referred to as just "Kitty". My idea for the cat was that they were once a god-like entity. Cast down from the heavens to reign terror upon the Earth. While this was a cunning plan, the appearance that was taken on wasn't exactly ideal. Their vision was for a cat-like beast with horns. A creature that would surely be feared by man. When they arrived on Earth, however, the plan somehow backfired and they appeared as a small female calico cat with fake headbanded devil horns. How this happened was beyond them, but it was also a no turning back kind of ordeal. So this is what they were stuck with. While they still had the ability to control some minds and start small fires, this definitely was not what they had in mind.

Anyway, back to Zorra. She was basically a reflection of myself. I basically poured all of my experiences and stuff that almost was into her. She was outcasted and forgotten by her own family, went through mental trauma after losing her mother and step father, once engaged to be married but was left after the mental trouble, but somehow made a strive to get back on her feet and try to make the most of life. She had a job at a coffee shop, had a home of her own. While she originally did not have any pets to begin with, the Devil Cat found Zorra and moved herself in. Seeing her as easy to manipulate, which did work to some extent, but being a small cat complicates things. Particularly when you're constantly given catnip and treats.

These two were my original babies, but I ultimately dropped them due to lack of interest. I made a lot of drawings of them both and had a lot of fun while it lasted, but it wasn't meant to be unfortunately. :(

Tagged by: @healingbrews

Tagging: @bombmate, @abelladxnna, @therippingtides, @imgonnaketchumall, and you!!! :)

[shearlinetrimmers]

#1 mistake all grow operations make

As this is my first blog, ever, I will ask the reader to give me a break on what will probably be an ugly first attempt! I am Ryan Hall, and I have been in this industry since, 1962, when, at the inquisitive age of 12, I planted my first marijuana plant in an old whisky barrel on my moms patio. She was so proud! Finally I had shown an interest in her passion, gardening. Of course, she had no idea what I was attempting to grow. Unfortunately, the man who lived across the street, and worked on the local police force in the small, conservative southern California town we lived in, did. He had a habit of stopping by to check on me, bullshit actually, My mom was a real looker and I was well aware that his real interest in my welfare, was at least partially , based on my mothers attire on a given day. And on one of those days, My mother , with great pride, gave him a tour of her garden and my three month along contribution to it! Later that day, when I was coming home from school, he met me in the front yard, and complimented me on my new found hobby. Without ever mentioning what he saw growing, he suggested I hone my skills on some other flora, carrots, I believe. I agreed with him right away, saying that I had thought those were carrot seeds I had planted! He smiled and walked back across the street without another word. Saved by my mothers yellow sun dress I have always surmised. This, one might expect, should have served as a deterrent to my horticultural aspirations, but showing what was to become a major personality trait through out my life, I stubbornly packed up my young charges and moved them across the viaduct fifty feet from this super cool old guys bee hives! Bees have never bothered me and this new location proved to be the perfect location for me to pull of my first crop! four stunningly gorgeous eight foot tall males. I was stoked! Remember, I was 12! 60 years later! Wow! how the world has changed, folks are, right out in the open, growing massive fields of huge specially bred marijuana plants without being raided at gunpoint, stripped of all their possessions, having their children taken away from them and locked away with violent criminals for the majority of their life. Honestly, I never thought I would see this! So now comes the part that is relevant to my website! The art of growing high quality buds has definitely evolved in leaps and bounds over the years, experimentation, scientific principles and the shear volume of growers now is leading to some amazing strains and growing technics coming to the industry! Along with this ,of course, comes new equipment to help us in this field. Lighting. climate control systems, multitudes of media and nutrient options exist now. The possibilities are endless. And yet, due primarily to the rush of most new participants in the growing end of this market, post processing, or drying, trimming and storage, has not received the attention that is required to see the true potential of all these new growing technics. no matter how resin laden and magnificent your flower appears on the stalk in growth, it can be completely ruined in a few hours of misguided post harvest handling. And surprisingly enough, The larger the grow operation the more likely they seem to be to fail to plan for this crucial step in connoisseur quality cannabis! I have spent the last 24 years, since I invented the first machine that could trim the unwanted leaf off of marijuana flowers, showing growers who would listen, how to slow dry, and properly store and handle flower to assure the strongest aroma, flavor and appearance possible, and to accomplish this with as much automation as is effective. During this period, I have learned many things! Here let me say with all confidence, that yes, you can use my automated trimming system to achieve, in many ways, a superior appearing, smelling and tasting flower then you can with hand trimming. It can be done at a mammoth savings in time , labor and money. However, as I tell every client I speak with, if you are not willing to follow the proper procedures, allot the needed space for the drying and trimming, as well as the cleaning and maintenance of your equipment. The you are going to have to be satisfied with a very small hand operation, or a vastly inferior product that ,by now, I am sure most of you have figured out, is not worth the time and money it took to grow! So, over the next few weeks I am going to concentrate on giving to you, my friends, what I am sure will be exceedingly valuable advise on every aspect of post harvest I have accumulated over my many years of successes and failures! Respectively yours, Ryan Hall, Shearline

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source https://www.shearline.com/1-mistake-all-grow-operations-make/

[howl-fantasies]

I have a request for headcanons of the Gotham rogues having met the Y/N when they were ig sane aka. not evil and then awhile after just seeing them at Arkham, now knowing they went down the same pit they had.

At least they can be a new rogue!

( I'm thinking of them liking each other romantically beforehand and then Y/N poof is now not sane- like oops but you can still date 🤷‍♀️ )

Hi dear, thank you for your request! And so sorry for the delay! I like the concept, it's a really plausible one. The idea of them meeting each other again in Arkham and bonding because of their common misfortune and spiralling to hell is a very good one! *Barbara vibes here*😂

I made scenarios with the reader being friend or sort of with the villains first, since I thought it would be fitting, I hope it's ok for you dear. I went with: Ed, Oswald, Victor and Jonathan. Tell me if you want to read more headcanons with other villains.

So here it is:

Warning: violence, blood, mental illness, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt, Arkham (hey, it can be traumatising, ask Oswald and Ed), English is not my first language I'm working on it.

Word Count: 3.685

GOTHAM VILLAINS HAVING MET THE READER WHEN THEY WERE SANE

EDWARD NYGMA / THE RIDDLER

You were Kringle's coworker and met Eddy at the GCPD.

Even if you worked with the other woman you were never really close, mostly because of the awful way she treated Ed at first.

Even if he was a dork, you used to find him endearing and always gave his riddles a shot, succeeding or not to answer correctly.

If you were good at riddles, Ed would immediately become your partner in riddle-crime, always searching for a good one able to stump you.

If riddles weren't your forte, he appreciated your effort and gentleness. You really were trying and he really loved the spark of comprehension in your eyes when he would give you the correct answer and how you would facepalm and curse at how obvious it was when you were thinking about it.

Your closeness would earn you a lot of teasing from Jim, Harvey and the other cops, most of the times it would be mean remarks targeting Ed, though.

But you both knew the truth: Nygma was still obsess with Kringle. You, on the other hand, always had a soft spot for him. You didn't need to be a genius, though, to know your attraction for dear Ed was only a one side one. So you never told him anything about it.

When Ed started to lose it, you truly were horrified. Why? How? What was happening to him? You did your best to team up with Jim in order to bring your lovely co-worker back to you.

You already know the result: it will be an epic fail. For Jim, you and finally Ed who will be send to Arkham.

Then, your own little descent into hell happened.

Without Ed, you were now the new GCPD's scapegoat. Those guys never learn anything, right?

Hell at work and in your personal life: losing a close relative, meeting someone who hurt you badly, money issues, illness... choose your weapon and be ready to see your uneventful life burst into flames for the worse...or maybe the better?

You would wreak absolute havoc in Gotham, so much, Gordon himself had to go after you and managed to arrest you.

"What happened to you Y/N?! Ed wasn't enough? Why did you have to follow his path?!" He asked-yelled, the deep hurt visible in his eyes.

Goodbye Gotham, hello Arkham. Guess who you met again here?

“No waaay ∼ Look at you my dear, you are positively stunning!” His taunting voice would call you from the other side of the refectory. “Did you missed me so much you decided to pursue me here? My, oh my, I’m honoured!” *Yes, you can hit his pompous ass, please do it*

Riddler had to stop his mocking, though. When he saw you so numb, his felt his heart clench painfully. He appreciated you a lot back then. And seeing you so hollow made him drop his cocky act. 

“Are you ok dear?” He would ask, joining you at your table and cautiously seating in front of you with his brows furrowed. “What happened?”

And you would tell him. How your life became a living hell when he was gone. How everything crumbled around you until your mind didn’t have any other choice than snap. 

Goodness. He empathized. He truly did. His own snapping was relatively fresh after all. 

He would make his own little mission to protect you from Strange and his little human experiments, he would try his best to lift your spirit and even create special riddles only for you. Don’t worry about answering wrong, you wouldn’t die for it, he swore. 

Now that Kringle was out of the picture, Ed would finally see you. See how you were always kind with his dork him, how you tried to save him when everything went south for him, how you would discreetly wrinkle your cute nose when something was bothering you but you were too polite to point it out loud. God what was he thinking while running after his previous doomed love when you, who never tried to change anything with him, was just under his nose. He would feel like the biggest fool into the whole city let me tell you. 

He wouldn’t mind you being now judged as insane. He wouldn’t mind your illness. He would only mind how a blushing mess he was gradually becoming when you were near him. And he would only mind about ensuring your security: inside of Arkham, outside of it when he would convince Oswald to get you out too. 

Be ready to be the one receiving muffins with a bullet in it, flowers, poems, and any romantic gift you can think about. 

Bonus: he will always keep a picture of the two of you inside of his wallet. You both were in Arkham’s uniform at the cafeteria while he was teaching you how to play chess with a paper handmade one he created just for you. He would never admit it to anyone but he thought you were the cutest thing in your uniform. 

--

OSWALD COBBLEPOT / THE PENGUIN

You fist met Oswald when he entered the little tailor shop you owned.

He needed a new suit for his grand debuts in the mafia’s world, when he started to work for Fish. 

He wouldn’t be very kind during his first visits. But he came back every times, finding your sense of fashion and sewing technique terrific. 

He finally decided to compliment them once, bringing you to talk about a lot of things: suits, buttons, and more dangerous subjects like his mother and his growing criminal career. Nothing too touchy, though. Oswald is a cautious little thing and he also didn’t want you to sell any information or, if you really were as kind as you looked, make you a target if anyone wanted to hurt him. 

Soon, you would become his little secret. His breath of fresh air. He would even try to hide your friendship to his dear mother, too afraid she insults you or demand him to stop seeing you. 

But Gertrude is perceptive in her own way and would suspect something. Because of Oswald’s stupid happy smile whenever he was putting one of your creation, she would stay silent and let him think he was so good at keeping secrets. She swore to tore you apart if you ever dare to break his lovely son’s heart, though. 

Your relationship reached an important point when he would met you just after Fish defeat and flee, thanks to Victor. His clothes and face were a total mess. 

So you patched his suit and him, without asking questions you knew he wouldn’t answer. 

But he decided to speak. Well, not really speak, he vented. His nerves cracking and his temper starting to get the best of him. He always tried to keep it tamed near you, too afraid about your possible reaction. 

You didn’t run away. You let him yell, smash his hands and fists against your furniture, and offered him some tea, fruits and biscuits. 

“Poof” angry Oswald was now tamed. You’re a wizard/witch reader, be ready to receive a letter from Hogwarts in the following days.

After this, Cobblepot’s fondness for you will know no limit. As his dear friend, he would always make sure your shop and you were ok, even when everything around him was burning. 

But Gotham is Gotham, you know. Trouble, misery, and disasters always find their way to you. 

It started with an arson. Your shop was burned to the very ground. By who? Oswald swore to investigate and help you build it back, even better than before. 

But he wasn’t that rich at this time, so you did what any citizen would have done: you called the insurance, you went to the illustrious Gotham Central Bank and ask for their help to lend you the funds you needed. 

Condensed, their answer was pretty much a: “LMAO no fucking way, please go die somewhere in the dark alone.” Pretty much. With prettier and complex words, but the meaning was the same. 

Oswald was livid. You too. But you’ll eventually find a way to back up on your feet. Right? *Spoiler: no*

Your chance definitely left you when a few weeks later, Oswald get caught and sent to Arkham, letting you all alone to deal with your problem and Cobblepot’s foes who somehow had heard about you. 

Domino effect. It would always be your answer to the “What happened to you?” inevitable question. You lost it. You snapped. Nobody, except Oswald, was keen on helping you in this hell hole. Nobody would care if you were to die alone in a dark and shady alley. 

Why would you care about robbing the bank then? And other banks, galleries, rich people in town? Money was the key. You needed money. In fact, it became your obsession. Money will guarantee you a home, you will never lose yours ever again. Money will guarantee you security, power, and quick solutions whenever you may be in need for one. 

You get caught too. Your total obsession for money making you the perfect new candidate to the only asylum in town. Not like you cared. Your precious money was safe, you made sure of it. But from Arkham, it would be a little bit difficult to reach. 

Life decided to stop being a bitch when you saw your dear friend again. 

“Y/N?!” You heard him yell when you were escorted to the cell next to his own. “Oh my god my dear, I am so sorry I wasn’t here for you! But what are you doing here! It must be a mistake! Guards! Let us go this instant, we aren’t mentally ill for heaven’s sake!” 

Like Ed, Oswald will make sure no harm was done to you in Arkham. Yes, he would even protect you from Jerome. He would never let the freak touch a single hair of your head. You were too precious. 

Oswald would also make sure to get you out. Even after Strange little mind game on him. He would never forget you or judge you a bad influence for him. 

Of course he’ll notice your newfound obsession for money. But he understands. Better, he will make sure to help you make and steal a lot of it. 

He asked you to move in with him during his mayor campaign, implored you to stay during his Gotham’s throne conquest - for your own security. In fact, he will want you with him at all times. You, his dearest friend. The only one who, he knew, would never turn their back on him. 

Be ready to catch him facing empty chairs a few times when you come back home. “Don’t panic, he’s practicing his confession,” Olga told you in her language that you obviously don’t understand a word about. 

Gifts. Gifts everywhere. Everyday. For no reason. He likes to spoil you rotten. “Can’t you see this boy fell head over heels for you, idiot?” Would sigh Olga every time. Of course, both of you will miss it every time, demanding her to speak in freaking ENGLISH... Poor you guys... It will take ages. 

--

VICTOR ZSASZ

Victor met you for the first time at the Lady's illegal casino.

You weren't an assassin yourself, by no means. Just here to work as an accountant. You knew about the Lady's business and ensure she never had any issue with her money, writing her contracts for her and it was all.

When the most famous assassin in town showed his bald head in the casino and the Lady wasn't here, he pretexted he was "just passing by" and got lost here. Dude... I mean...

You had to facepalm. Which made him laugh like an idiot. You knew who he was, but also were accustomed to assassins at this point so it wasn't like you were going to pee in your pants while being in front of him. He liked it.

You introduced yourself properly and explained you worked for the Lady and was aware he was supposed to come to see her.

You offered him a drink on the house and humor him with small talk while waiting for your boss.

When she finally showed up, the three of you moved in a seclude area to talk business. Something about a contract the Lady wanted to make with Victor, with the benediction of Carmine Falcone.

He was amazed by how composed and organized you were. Clinical. Like any good assassin should be, even if you weren't one. He absolutely loved your quick wit and the dark jokes you would offer from time to time to help lightening the mood when tension was getting too intense. Damn, you were good!

Victor being Victor, he quickly became fascinated by you, following you everywhere in town with or without you knowing.

You caught him stalking you once when you stopped by a pizza truck, asking for a calzone.

"Add one pepperoni please. Oh! And a milkshake too." Came his voice from behind you, making you jump out of your skin and curse him like a sailor.

"What the hell?! Are you following me? I mean, for real?! DUDE!" You yelled in pure outrage.

He wouldn't even try to hide it. Simply offering you his irritating "Uh-uh".

"What for? Plan to kill me or something?" You asked.

His long silence wasn't mean to threaten you, no. He was admiring your nerves of steel. Also questioning your sanity a bit, truth be told. But since you made him a really good impression so far, he decided you were impressive.

"Not today", he just said with a shrug. Ok, so he wanted to play friends or something so stupidly mondain like this. Again, you decided to humor him.

Guess what, after a few times of totally not planned encounters, you started to really get close to each other. Even exchange numbers at some point.

He would always find the time to pay you a little visit at the casino at the end of your shift and appreciate the strange normalcy it gave him.

Everything was fine until one day, the Lady's illegal casino was under attack, getting nearly everyone killed brutally.

You survived somehow. You weren't an assassin but it didn't mean they didn't taught you a thing or two, like surviving *the irony* or using weapons.

When the GCPD FINALLY arrived, they caught you, covered in blood and utterly shocked. You were still processing everything happening and your world falling apart.

Your distressed attitude and shock were the main reasons why you were send to Arkham, in hope they would help you to get through it and release you after it.

They didn't plan the bloodbath would have turned one very dangerous switch inside of you. The blood, the thrill, the smell of powder, the pure rush of adrenaline. God you wanted more.

A month later maybe, guess who also found his ass in the same facility? But yes of course: Victor Zsasz.

His goofy grin threatened to split his jaw in half when he saw you: "Hey Sweets! Knew you survived!"

It wouldn't need much for him to understand what switch was activated inside of you. And he was positively thrilled by it!

He offered to train you, respected when you declined joining the Zsaszettes and came with another idea: introduce you to Falcone/Oswald (depending on where you want to stand in the timeline) and make you their brand new accountant-assassin.

Be ready to find him glued to you at anytime, you were his little secret crush back then, you're now his new God/Goddess and nothing will stop him to worship you properly, not even you. You'll see you were made for each other, eventually.

--

JONATHAN CRANE / SCARECROW

You were Jonathan's classmate and friend.

You weren't as easy spook as him so you often where his emotional support and bodyguard, especially at school with bullies. No need to be a total badass, your fondness for him was enough to give you the courage to shut up the boys or girls making fun of him and you, or give them a proper beating if you feel like so.

His sensibility always touched you deeply, and you were always here whenever he needed to vent about something or talk about his fears.

This is how you learned about the arson taking the life of his mother. The gradual shutting of his father and his obsession with fear and how to tame it.

When it was only researches, you found yourself really interested in Jonathan's father discoveries, as much as Jonathan himself. He was always a little genius in science and physics. Share it with him or not, your interest for the fear field wasn't feigned.

He gladly explained whatever you didn't understand and even suggested a few theories, sharing them with you.

It could have stayed this way, a passion, a subject of research. But it had to escalate when Jon's father started to look for unwilling test subjects.

You weren't aware of it at first. Unsuspecting, until you found Jonathan doubled in half on the floor of the school's bathroom one day, crying like a river and mumbling nonsense about him being a monster and going straight to hell.

You rushed to him, crouching at his level and tried to shake him out of his shock. "Jon'! Hey! Look at me! What are you talking about, you're no monster! Something happened? Please talk to me."

Poor boy was an absolute mess but managed to hear you and let you help him to sit. And he spoke. Oh good lord, he spoke for an hour or so, telling you everything about his father and what he was doing to poor gothamites. How he was forced into this total craziness and how he started to fear his father will ask him to use you as a test subject one day.

Horrified. That's how you felt, frankly. You had to stay silent for a good five minutes to process everything your friend just told you.

But you liked Jonathan, and he wasn't responsible of his father madness, right?

You comforted him, swearing it was not his fault and he wasn't a monster.

When he finally stopped crying, you swore to him that you'll never tell it to anyone, not even the police *You were teens. Teens do stupid things like this. Well, adults too when you think about it...*

He would come to you every time his father would terrify some innocent in town, crying for hours on your shoulders.

When his dad used the toxin on him, he was on phone with you, making you yell bloody murder on the other side of the line and dropping everything you were doing to run to his house.

You crumbled when you saw your best friend on the ground under his phobia: a huge scarecrow, yelling, crying and spasming like he was having a heart attack. You rushed to him and pushed Harvey away, "He's my friend! Oh my god! Please do something!" You pleaded in tears, having to be manhandled by Jim to allow emergency services to reach him.

You were at the hospital everyday, hating you for not having call the GCPD sooner. Maybe it would have saved Jon. The guilt was eating you alive. When the docteur told you he was a lost cause, you felt like going into a tailspin. Then, came the numbness.

When Jonathan was transferred into an asylum where visits weren't allowed, you made a new friend: depression.

Nothing could help you, you wanted to die. Die for being responsible of your friend distress, die because all you were able to feel was pain.

You went to his house one day, when the guilt and pain were too much to bear. You found yourself inside his father's old office and started to rummage around his things. There, a syringe. With some shady yellow liquid floating inside of it.

You didn't had any idea about what was inside. But at this point, you didn't care any more. You took it in your hands, looked at it just a second before plunging it directly on your upper arm, emptying it in it.

Your yells of absolute terror were what made neighbors call the police, thinking a murder was happening in Crane's old house. When Gordon and Bullock found you, they felt ice in their veins. You were Jonathan's friend. The one who found him with them that night. The one who always was by his side at the hospital before his transfer. Jim felt he failed you. Harvey too.

You went through the exact same hell as Jonathan. First the delirium, the nightmares... When you finally managed to wake up, your diagnosis was the same as him: a lost cause. Arkham was your new stop. They didn't want to send you to the same facility's Jonathan was in, too afraid it would be too much of a shock for both of you guys.

Oh but fate has its own ways. And you finally saw each other again, years later. When he was now incarcerated as Scarecrow.

He recognized you immediately. Not believing what he was seeing. What happened to you? He tried to find you when he started his criminal career but it was like your very existence vanished from earth.

He was always perceptive. A minute was enough for him to understand: you were exposed to his toxin. Well, to his father's toxin.

He was as sorry for you as he was impress when you explained him you took the same dose of toxin he took a few years back and was still living to tell the tale.

Since you were his friend *cough* and also school sweetheart *cough*, and now totally immune to his fear toxin, he decided it was time for him to take care of you and make sure you were always safe.

Be ready for a clingy best friend-lover, for cuddles every times you two are alone, to weird scary gifts, halloween chocolates, dead flowers and basically any weird thing he would find romantic or cute.

A/N - I hope you liked it! Have a beautiful day/night my dear, take care!